The hours she spends here are the only time I get to see her these days, and when I’m working the door, that time gets cut far more than I want it to.
She rushes past me again, mumbling a soft ‘excuse me’ to the waitress she bumps into. Again. One hand covers her mouth, and the other holds her stomach as she sprints down the hallway to the bathroom.
This is the fourth time tonight. If she’s sick, she should be home resting. Curled up in her bed, with medicine working its way through her system as she eats some soup and drinks liquids to stay hydrated. Instead, she’s here, running an obstacle course across the club floor, playing the game of risk to see if she's going to make it to the porcelain throne in time.
I glare across the room at Luke, who’s leaning against the bar talking to Javier. He has a beer in his hand and he’s laughing. Fucking laughing, while Vee, his woman, is sick as a dog. He turns his head as I clench my fist, almost like he can hear my thoughts. He looks at me, or rather past me, because I notice his gaze rises over my shoulder; focusing on the hallway Vee disappeared down. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t go after her. His expression eases, as if he isn’t worried.
All I can think about is punching his face until he gets some fucking sense knocked into him.
“Is she okay?” I ask my voice deep and angry as I approach him
Luke glances at me, truly seeing me this time, but doesn’t even bat an eye when he answers me.
“She’s fine.”
My temper spikes at his cavalier tone. My hands clench into fists, shaking at my sides. I take a step back and take a deep breath, doing my best to calm myself. I let my mind remember all the things my therapist discussed with me: ways to calm down before I speak, choosing the words I want to say.
“How the hell…” I pause and rephrase the question. “How can you say that?” I gesture toward the hallway. “That’s like the fourth time tonight she’s had to make a mad dash to the bathroom.”
Javier’s brows lift, and he holds his hands up as if he’s throwing in the flag.
Luke lets out a sigh and acts as if I’m the problem.
I take another step closer, flexing my hands at my sides. “If she’s sick, maybe you should take her home instead of standing here drinking and talking shit.”
I’m seconds away from losing my temper and knocking him the fuck out. Screw what the therapist told me. He’s obviously unconcerned about her health.
He must see it in my face because he pushes off the bar counter and rubs his hand along the back of his neck.
“Calm down, man.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” My voice rising higher with each word.
He exhales slowly, eyes darting toward the hallway again before he leans closer.
“We haven’t told anyone yet,” he mutters.
My brow furrows. No, fuck, please don’t tell me it’s something worse than just being sick. All my mind can jump to is that she has cancer or some sort of terminal illness.
“Only Ash, Arizona, and Earl know. ”
“Know what?” Of course they would need to tell Earl. If they need to be out for treatments or something, then their duties with the club will have to be placed on hold.
He hesitates a second, like he’s debating if he should even tell me..
“Luke…” I step closer, holding his attention as he lowers his voice, barely a whisper between us.
“You can’t tell anyone.” His gaze narrows. “I mean it. She’ll kill me.”
I nod. Of course I wouldn’t tell anyone. This is Vee, we’re talking about here. I’ll pick up their slack as much as I can so they can be with her, if that’s what it takes.
If that’s what she needs…
His words detonate between us as he says, “She’s pregnant.”
I blink as his words strike me, hard in the chest. My mouth falls open, but no words come out. Still Luke continues, rendering me frozen where I stand.
“Just shy of finishing her first trimester,” he adds quietly. “At least that’s what Doc says.”
