Page 21 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
It wasn’t Felix.
It was a woman. Slender. Blonde. Red lipstick smudged like she’d put it on in a hurry. She looked vaguely familiar, some girl or other from Portland. It was hard to say. They all blurred into one after a while.
She was holding something, her knuckles white. A carrier.
A baby carrier.
He stared at it. Then at her. Then back again.
She shifted her weight. “Hey.”
“Uh…hey?”
She pushed the carrier toward him, “He’s yours.”
Dane blinked. His brain did not compute. “Come again?”
“The baby,” she said, like it was obvious. “He’s yours. Probably. You remember me…Sasha? From last year? We met at that party in Portland?”
He didn’t, really. Not clearly. But he nodded anyway, throat tight.
She rolled her eyes, “Look, I don’t want anything. I’m not here for child support or a place to stay or whatever. I just…can’t do this. He was born two days ago. I’ve been driving for hours. I’m exhausted. I’m not cut out for this shifter shit.”
She thrust the carrier forward again. “I figured, if he’s gonna be one ofyou, he’s better offwithyou.”
Dane stared down at the bundle. The baby was tiny. Swaddled in a pale blue blanket. Sleeping.
His heart thudded once. Hard.
“He doesn’t even have a name,” the woman added, “I didn’t…I don’t know. I thought maybe someone here could handle it better.”
She didn’t look sad. She didn’t even look guilty. Just…detached.
“Sasha, wait—” he started.
But she was already stepping back. Already turning.
“Sorry,” she called over her shoulder. “But this isn’t my world. Never was.”
And just like that, she walked down the stairs, climbed into a beat-up silver hatchback, and drove away.
Leaving Dane standing barefoot in the doorway, hungover, shirtless, and holding a baby.
“What the fuck,” he whispered.
A door creaked across the landing.
He turned, blood running cold.
Lola stood at the top of the stairs, halfway between her door and his, tote bag in hand, her expression unreadable.
Oh no.
She’d seen.All of it.
Dane felt panic surge up his spine.
He didn’t know what she thought she’d seen. A secret child dumped on his doorstep? A woman scorned? A messy life blowing up at his feet?
