Page 39 of Gatling
“When will you get it through your thick skull, Gatling? We ride under the same colors. We’re brothers. That makes usfamily. If you wanted to act like a lone wolf, then you should have been a nomad who didn’t answer to anyone except himself. Youchoseto join this club. And youchoseto stay. Start fucking acting like it.”
Without waiting for a response, Kingpin turned and headed for the door. He paused at the threshold.
“Bring your girl by the clubhouse for a visit sometime. We’d like to meet her.”
“She’s not my girl,” I protested, my voice raw with the admission.
Kingpin clucked his tongue.
“That hang-dog look on your face says otherwise. You’re a goner. Whether you’re willing to admit it or not.”
After Kingpin left, I grabbed my backpack and bolted into the trees. I picked up the pace, moving faster and faster until I was nearly at an all-out run. I couldn’t escape this. I couldn’t fake it and pretend that I didn’t have feelings for Kelsie.
My phone pinged with a text message in my backpack. I swore under my breath and forced myself to stop. It might be Baby Doll. Or Noah. Or—
Digging my phone out, I glanced at the screen to see a message from Kelsie.
I’m pregnant.
I stumbled and dropped to my knees.
Chapter twelve
Kelsie
I stared with bleary eyes at the glow of my phone screen, composing one text after another to Ryker, telling him the news.
In the end, I chickened out and erased them every time.
Curling up on my side, I wrapped my arms around my middle. For so many years, I had dreamed of this moment. Announcing my pregnancy. Telling the man I loved thatwe’re going to have a baby.Becoming a mother. Raising a child and watching them grow up.
The fact that Ryker was the father only added to the bittersweetness of the moment.
I wanted all of this—the baby, Ryker, a home and a family together. I wanted it so badly that it was hard to breathe under the weight of yearning that pressed against my lungs.
But the timing was wrong. We were supposed to work our way up to this gradually—dating, getting engaged, planning the wedding. Instead, one night—one night that shouldn’t have happened in the first place—had turned everything upside down.
As sunlight began to filter into my bedroom, I realized there was no delicate way to put this. Those two pink lines had crashed into my life like a wrecking ball.
So I kept it short and simple.
I’m pregnant.
Then I hit send.
It was done. I told him. Eventually, I had to tell Noah, too. But that conversation wasn’t happening over a text message.
I waited for a few minutes, staring at my phone, willing Ryker’s response to appear after those two life-changing, earth-shattering words.
What did I hope he would say? Could I envision him reading bedtime stories to our child? Changing diapers and burping the baby? Spending his weekends at soccer practice or dance recitals, and chatting with other parents at parent-teacher meetings?
I groaned and burrowed into my pillow.
No. I couldn’t. That wasn’t like Ryker.
The scent of coffee wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of dishes. Noah was awake and busy making breakfast. I debated whether I should take a sick day and skip work, but rotting in bed wouldn’t help anything.
Besides, working at the day care could be good practice, since…since I would be having a baby of my own sometime next year.
