Page 66 of No Mercy

“Not feeling well,” I manage around my hand, but regret it when another wave of nausea hits with the stench of their close proximity.

The aroma of sweaty men never bothered me before. I usually find it rather calming as it means I’m in the presence of athletes in peak condition, pursuing their dreams and overcoming challenges. It can be exhilarating on the skin of a guy I’m attracted to, an aphrodisiac even, like it’s proof of his masculinity.

But today, it’s like skunk spray. My eyes water, and I spin away from them, running for the trashcan I spot in the corner. My stomach lurches, sending my lunch the wrong direction. Kneeling, I barely make it before it all comes out in hideous retching, leaving me gagging and gasping for air.

“Fuck.” Rowdy’s voice comes from behind seconds before hands grip my hair, holding it out of the way. “Get a wet towel and some water,” he barks in true Gabriel-like alpha fashion. “Breathe, Frankie.” He pats my back lightly as he soothes with calming words my stomach refuses to hear.

Embarrassed, with the contents of my stomach expelled into the trash can, I sit back on my heels, my eyes still closed as I catch my breath.

“Here.” Rowdy hands me a wet towel.

The cool towel feels amazing on my face. I exhale a few more times before I wipe my face and dare to open my eyes. The trash can has been removed and replaced by a clean one. I glance around and watch Cap tie the used trash bag closed before placing it inside a larger container.

“Are you done?” Rowdy’s concerned face comes into view at my side. He knows by experience my trip to worship the porcelain god can involve multiple waves of upchucks.

“I think so.” I take the water someone else offers and avoid all eyes except Rowdy’s. “I’m so embarrassed. But the smell…”

He chuckles. “You guys hear that? Your stench made her sick.”

The number of grumbles and remarks from behind me tell me I didn’t escape an audience, and my embarrassment is not yet over.

“Mint?” I ask Rowdy, but a hand from my other side has me looking into the face of a scowling Cap as he hands me a peppermint, already unwrapped. He keeps a stash in his pocket at all times. I should have remembered. “Thanks.” I slip it in my mouth, sucking and moving it around, the smell and taste a sweet relief.

I reach for Rowdy. “Help me up?”

“You sure?”

A nod from me has two sets of hands, Rowdy and Cap’s, helping me up, not letting go until I’m steady on my feet. Reluctantly, I turn, facing my audience of concerned fighters. “Show’s over.” I fake a smile and hope they let it go.

A mix of scowls and frowns mars their faces as all eyes land on me, then slowly move down my body to still on my middle section. I quickly remove my hand. I hadn’t noticed it was cradling my abdomen.Shit.

“Fuck.”

“Oh my God.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“No way.”

Their reactions hit me all at once. I don’t know who said what, but it’s clear they have no doubt I’m with child.

“Frankie?” Caps voice pulls my eyes to his. The concern and hurt there has my vision blurring and my hand reaching for Rowdy’s in support.

He clasps my hand and leans down. “Maybe we should take this to a more private location.”

I shake my head. This needs to be addressed now. I can’t have any of them running to tell Gabriel. I focus on Cap. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.” My eyes scan the guys: Sloan, Patrick, Walker, Jess. “I didn’t want to have to ask you to lie for me.” I wobble on my feet, and before I know it, I’m swept up in Cap’s arms and set down on the nearest bench.

“He has a right to know,” Cap whispers for only my ears before he pulls away. “It’s Gabriel’s, right?”

Nodding, I catch each of their gazes as they near. Cap and Rowdy sit on either side of me, holding my hands.

Sloan pops open a lemonade Gatorade and hands it to me. “How far along are you?”

I take a drink and close my eyes while I wait for it to settle. When it does, I open my eyes to them kneeling and sitting in front of me, having moved in closer for a family powwow. “Twelve weeks,” I admit.

Walker eyes Rowdy’s hand on my knee. “Gabriel doesn’t know?”

“No. And you can’t tell him,” I implore each of them, stopping on Cap. “He only has a few weeks before his fight. I’ll tell him afterwards. Telling him now would just be cruel.” I look back to each of them. “Promise me you won’t tell him. This is my secret to tell. Not yours.”

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