His eyes widened in shock, and my heart sank. Dylan Grant didnotwant to be tied down to his pregnant, eighteen-year-old booty call. Not in a million freaking years. But fuck him. I didn'tneedhim to raise this baby with me, especially if Blake was dead, at which point I’d be the sole inheritor of our parents’ estate.
"How is that even possible?" Dylan croaked, still clearly trying to process the whole thing.
I rolled my eyes. "Pretty fucking easy, when you think about how crappy you are at pulling out."
He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "No, I know howthathappens. I want to know how it's possible that I was your first and didn't fucking know! What the hell, Brooke?"
Maybe I was misreading things out of stress and exhaustion, but I could swear he was actuallymadabout this fact. Like it was any of his business whether I was a virgin or not.
So, I did the only sensible thing I could do in such an awkward situation. I changed the subject.
"Did you find Blake?" I asked again, redirecting his steadily building fury onto somethingnotme. "That guy last night said Blake had planted the stolen files on me, but why wouldn't he just tell them where he hid them?"
Dylan was pacing my hospital room now, running his hand over his shaved head like he could scrub the shocking revelations straight out of his brain. How cool would that be if it worked?
"What the fuck, Brooke?" he asked again, sounding less pissed off and more pleading. "What thefuck?"
I blinked several times at the distraught look on his face. "What?"
"You're pregnant," he told me, like this was news.
"You're just now processing this information?" I snarked back, my irritation at his whole attitude getting the better of me. "Trust me, Dylan, it wasn't intentional. If that's what you’re worried about, you can just forget it. I don't need your money, nor do I want it. This isn't some trap to snag myself a piece of the Delta Five. I will bejust fineon my own, so don't go feeling like you owe me anything."
His brows hitched. "That thought never even crossed my mind, Brooke."
I scoffed. Such bullshit.
"I'm pissed off right now because you'repregnantand you didn't fucking tell me! You ran away from me in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm. Do you have any concept of what could have happened? Jesus fucking Christ, Brooke, were you ever planning on telling me?" He was shouting now, and the door opened to admit a worried-looking nurse.
"Not fucking now!" Dylan roared at the woman, and she disappeared as fast as she'd arrived, probably to call security.
I shook my head, my throat thick with emotions and my stomach a mess of guilt and anger and fear. But he was accusing me of deliberately keeping this pregnancy a secret when I hadn't evenknown. Not for sure, anyway. So... no. Fuck him. He didn't get to act like the victim in this situation. He didn't get to rant and yell at me whenIwas the one who was growing a human inside me. WhenIwas the one who’d nearly died last night, andIwas the one who'd raise this child and love it.
No. Fuck that.
"Get out," I told him in a cold voice.
He blinked at me in surprise. "Excuse me?"
My anger spiked. "You heard me, Dylan. Get. Out. You don't get to do this. Not here and definitely not now. Get out of my room and don't come back until you can act like a grown-ass adult."
He wanted to argue; it was written all over his face. But the nurse returned, like I'd known she would, with two hospital security guards accompanying her. No one shouted at the staff of this hospital and got away with it, not even Dylan Moneybags Grant.
"This patient is under strict orders to rest," the nurse informed the tall, scary motherfucker standing at the foot of my bed. "You've become detrimental to that treatment plan, so you need to leave. Right now."
She folded her arms across her chest, and there was pure steel in her glare. Not even Dylan could fail to see that.
He scowled at the nurse for a long moment, then flicked his gaze over me and let out a defeated sigh. His shoulders sagged, and it was like someone had just stuck a pin in his whole alpha-male-personality bubble.
With a tired nod, he moved in the direction of the door, then paused.
"He didn't tell them," he told me in a bitter tone, "because he planned to get free and recover it himself. Blake is still out there somewhere, Brooke, and I'd bet my entire fortune he's coming to find you."
He left my room then, but his words remained hanging in the air like a goddamn prophecy. My stomach clenched painfully, and I let out a moan.
"You okay, hon?" the nurse asked in a gentle voice as the security closed the door after themselves, leaving us alone.
I shook my head. "No. I think I'm going to be sick."
