“Gone in a way that you and Lexie never have to live on the same earth he wastes oxygen on ever again,” he told my eyes finally, his tone flat.
His voice was slightly guarded, as if I would have some sort of hysterical reaction to the man I loved basically informing me he had killed the father of my child, who had beaten and almost killed me and haunted my life for sixteen years.
“Okay,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. It was the most animated surprised reaction I had ever seen on him.
So kids hadn’t reached the table yet. Not that I didn’t want them. I did. Having Lexie was the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. Having Zane’s child, I knew would be nothing short of amazing. I wasn’t exactly a spring chicken so I couldn’t wait forever. I also knew I had to give my husband time. Time to adjust to having us permanently without the prospect of losing us. Which I knew haunted him still. So I waited until it seemed like Mother Nature had other plans. I didn’t want to go informing him just yet—although Lexie and her big mouth would do it for me if I wasn’t careful—which was how I found myself at the doctor. Just to be sure.
Then that was how I found myself leaving the doctors with a little picture of that looked like weird modern art, but was one of the most important little pictures I had ever held. The one of the six-week-old little peanut growing in my stomach. One I loved as much as I did Lexie already.
I had been studying the picture so intently on my way to the car I didn’t even hear my phone ring the first time.
“Mia.” Zane’s voice was weird when I answered on the second ring, like he knew something. It wasn’t possible. I knew he was hot and the enforcer of whatever for the club, which made him a crazy bad ass with many abilities. I did not think those abilities came with pregnancy sensing powers. I did know they came with crazy sperm though, considering I was not the only Old Lady to get preggers while on the pill.
“In addition to O Luscious One, that is one of the titles I answer to,” I said with false seriousness, ignoring the potential baby sensing ability.
He did not find my phone humor amusing on this day. “Where are you?” he clipped with impatience.
“Where am I?” I repeated, trying to stall. I didn’t want to lie to my husband but I didn’t exactly want to tell him over the phone where I was. Because then he’d get all alpha and demand to know why I was at the doctor, and I was having trouble finding believable alternatives. Hence the stall.
“Mia,” he said in warning.
I sighed. “Jeez Louise, calm down. I’m just getting into my car,” I told him truthfully.
“Where’s the car?” he continued.
“In a parking lot,” I hedged.
“Fuck’s sake, Mia. Tell me why you’re at the fuckin’ doctor.” His voice broke with impatience, and also worry.
I straightened. “Why did you waste all that time asking me where I was if you already knew?” I asked on a sharp tone. “Furthermore, how did you know where I was? Do you have a bug in my car?” I bent down and felt below the seat, beginning my search. I so wouldn’t put it past him.
“One of the boys saw your car. Wanted to know why you wouldn’t tell me you were going. Now I wanna know why you were lying.” His voice was hard. “You okay?” he added softly.
I straightened and abandoned my search. “Damn you, Betty, for being so gosh darned cute and memorable,” I chastised my car.
“Fuck,” Zane muttered with impatience. “I can never have any conversation of importance with you over the phone,” he declared. “Get your ass to the club. Now,” he commanded.
To many his voice may have sounded brutal, scary even. To me I knew it was something else. Love and concern, wrapped in his usual alpha and biker speak.
“Um, maybe we should have this conversation at home,” I told him, not big on declaring the bun in my oven to the entirety of the club just yet.
There was a loaded pause. “I’ll be there in two,” he declared.
“Okay, try not to trample any prospects on your way out the clubhouse,” I half teased before clicking off.