Brothers file out, clapping me on the shoulder as they pass. Offering congratulations. Promising protection.
I find Bonnie in my office, sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest. She looks up when I walk in.
“I heard the shouting,” she says.
“They’re happy for us.”
“They’re happy for you. They don’t know the truth.”
“The truth is, you’re carrying a baby that three men are willing to die for. That’s all that matters.” I cross to her and pull her to her feet. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrified.”
“Me too.”
She laughs, a shaky sound. “You’re not supposed to admit that.”
“I’m not supposed to do a lot of things.” I kiss her forehead. “But I do them anyway.”
She wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face to my chest. I hold her, feeling her breathe.
“What happens now?” she asks.
“We’ll call the doctor and get the paternity test done.”
She tilts her head back to look at me. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Even if it’s Marcus’s?”
“Even then. But it’s not.” I cup her face. “I don’t know how I know, but I know. It’s not his.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” I kiss her. “Now come on. Let’s go to bed.”
She lets me lead her to my room. Our room now, really. She spends more nights here than anywhere else.
I undress her slowly. Taking my time. Memorizing every inch of her.
Her body is changing. Subtle things most people wouldn’t notice. But I notice everything. Her breasts are fuller. Her hips are slightly wider. And her stomach—there’s the smallest curve there now. Barely visible. But real.
My child. Or Ghost’s. Or Titan’s.
But mine to protect either way.
I lay her down on the bed and cover her body with mine. She sighs and pulls me closer.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“For not running. For staying. For loving me even when this is complicated.”
“It’s not complicated.” I kiss her. “You’re mine. That’s the only thing that matters.”
21
