Amelia
After hearing his voice, all I wanted to do was shout from the rooftop that I was finally having my dreams come true. The small photo from the scan kept me going. I wanted to tell him, the messy side of us won in the end. All the talks of being his and making me a mother or making him a father, it all came true.
After my miscarriage, I thought it was the end of it, that I would never be ready again, that perhaps I was more fearful that it would be my ex-husband’s, and I would have to fight for both myself and my child.
But knowing that half of that baby was Shooter’s, I couldn’t help but smile in the end. I was daydreaming the entire time as I sat in the parking lot before I headed home to make sure that I would be at the arena before the fight. The more I sat in the parking lot, the more I daydreamed.
Shooter coming from whatever job he was working on, finding me on the couch with the little one cradled in my arms. He would come over to the couch, pepper kisses along my cheek, murmur that he couldn’t wait to see my belly grow again. I wondered ifhe would be turned on if I breastfed. I mean there have been a couple of books that Melody had introduced me to at one time.
I wondered if Shooter would make our child a little artist. Then I quickly thought about their first ride of their daddy’s bike.
Daddy.That had a ring to it.
I glided my hand over my stomach, knowing that life was growing inside me, one made from love and adoration. This child would be protected, given a family I lost years ago, a family that I missed. This baby was going to know that they were enough, they were never alone.
Warmth slid down my face as the tears of happiness didn’t stop falling.
“Your daddy is going to be so excited, little one. Something you got to know though.” I knew that it couldn’t understand me, but it felt therapeutic. “He will never leave your side. The outside world would call him a monster, a devil. But he won’t be like that with you and me. He’ll show you that you don’t have to earn his love.”
Maybe excited is too little of a word. No, he was going to be obsessed over this.
I glanced at the photo, worried that it wasn’t real. But I heard that heartbeat, I saw the smiles of my friends comforting me, this baby was real and it was ours.
Time had moved faster than I anticipated. That’s what happens when you get lost in your thoughts and overcome with happiness. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
I needed to hurry, I needed to shower, change into different clothes, and be ready to stand by his side. How was I going to tell him? After the fight? Perhaps, but I couldn’t keep a secret like this from him for too long. And yet, my horny ass thought about him punishing me for not telling him sooner than later. A pool of heat almost gushed from me just simply thinking of it.
The streetlamps started to turn on one by one, my window of time was diminishing. “Don’t be like your mother and squirrel and be late to things,” I mumbled as I turned onto my street. There was no one in my driveway.
A sigh of relief blew through. It was one less stress to think about and the longer he was away, the more I thought he would disappear for good.
I fumbled with my keys to the door, my work bag feeling like it was getting heavier. Once the lock clicked open, I pushed through, turning on the lights, illuminating the house I once dreamed that it would be a family home. After the fight, it wouldn’t be mine anymore. I didn’t want to be in a house that has been haunted with terror and fear.
I stepped toward the living room and was about to get into the kitchen when a shadowy figure stepped into the open kitchen.
With darkened eyes, patchy skin, and a horrible stubble, my own nightmare stalked into the room. A grimace look plastered on his face.
I panicked, my throat started to dry up, sweat started to drip down my back.
“Chris,” my voice squeaked. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
More like what hole or whose hole did you crawl out of.
Chris’s voice was a hit with a twist of alcohol and a crazed man. “Wanted to be here for mywifewhen she got off of work.”
“Not your wife, haven’t been for quite some time. You need to fucking leave,” I warned him. My eyes darted around the room, searching for a potential weapon, something that would cause him damage. Maybe not enough to kill him, but enough to knock him out until I could do something with him.
Fuck, I had been around Shooter for too long, I was starting to think like him.
“Oh, come on now. I don’t play that. Death do us part. Remember that?” he taunted as he leaned on the kitchen island holding up a gold wedding band. Funny, because the one we exchanged was silver with a black outline.
“Funny, I also remember them also mentioning something like to honor, to cherish, to be loyal to, guess that went out the door as soon as we said I do. Or was it beforehand?” I spat.
I never wanted him again after the strike. I lost all hope that there was a true man under the guise of a true monster.
“When did you become such a bitch? Surely I thought that street rat fucked it out of you.”
“I would suggest you shut the fuck up before regret sets in,” I warned him.
