“If you can lie back for me and lift your top,” he instructs and I listen, my hand trembling as I move my shirt up, suddenly happy I wore it with a pair of jeans.
He pulls a machine over towards me and grabs a bottle before stating, “This will be a little cold,” and squirts some gel on my stomach, then places the device on top of the gel and moves it around a little before pressing some buttons on the machine, “Alrighty then, let's see if we can find this baby.”
I nod, take a deep breath and look at the screen while holding my breath.
Black and light grey enter my vision before a small baby shape becomes visible, and I swear I struggle to breathe as he says, “Ah, there you are,” before pressing a few buttons, and a whoosh-whoosh sound echoes in the room.
Triple crap. I really am pregnant. No more hoping it’s a mistake, because yep, there’s a baby.
***
An hour later, I walk down the street, ignoring all the cop cars. As I had guessed, a fight broke out in the waiting area, the hungover woman actually hitting the child who tried to step in between her mom and the crazy lady, and I stare at the photo the doctor gave me.
I’m twelve weeks pregnant, meaning the baby was conceived the first week we slept together.
“So much for contraception,” I grumble as I put the scan photo in my pocket and walk into the tattoo shop, needing to see Bellamy.
I’ve put this off for weeks. I’ve run away from the problems, and now… now, I need to act like an adult and confront them.
“Back again,” the woman behind the desk scoffs, and I just roll my eyes and walk towards the hallway like normal, ignoring herand her pathetic jealousy over a guy that was never hers and always mine.
“You can’t go back there!” she snaps loudly and steps in front of me, and I sigh.
I really don’t want to hit someone else, last time, my knuckles bruised.
“Move out of my way,” I demand lowly as I look into her pink eyes.
She looks me up and down, then curls her top lip and sneers, “I don’t think so. You’re not going back there anymore, and soon, I’ll have that man beneath me.”
I raise a brow and say sarcastically, “Wow, such a girl’s girl trying to steal another woman’s boyfriend,” then grab my phone and say, “I’ll just call him.”
I don’t need her crap. I have to tell my boyfriend, who has already had a baby terminated by a crazy a woman that I’m now pregnant. He’ll most likely use this child as an excuse to leave the club, a club that wants him back, meaning he’ll resent me in years to come.
And don’t get me started on my own fears.
The bitch sneers, “You’re a nobody,” clearly not liking the truth, and I chuckle, “Actually, you are a nobody to him. I’m his everything, and this is getting pathetic, especially when I have been with him for over four months, and he’s living with me!”
The bitch looks at me in shock that I’ve actually stood up for myself before I hear boots echoing towards us. I bring up Bellamy’s number, only for the man himself to appear with a scowl on his face aimed at the bitch.
“When are you going to have some self-respect, huh?” he demands as he shoves past her, then wraps his arm around my waist, and I step into him, pressing my nose against his chest and inhaling, my nerves instantly settling being in his embrace.
His chest rumbles against me when he snaps, “Next time you stop my girl from coming to see me, I won’t be so fucking nice. Stay the hell away from her!” before he guides me towards his room, ignoring the shocked receptionist. Should I bother to learn her name? Does it even matter? I silently scoff. No, she’ll just stay 'bitch' in my mind. Bellamy doesn’t even know her name.
“You come to finish your job?” Bellamy asks as he guides me into his tattoo room, and I hum, because maybe that will settle me and help me drop the bomb that we’re going to be parents.
He removes his cut and hands it to me and I smile, put it on, and bring the leather to my nose. His spiced and earthy cologne hits my senses and I sigh with contentment. He chuckles, catching my attention, I notice he’s already sitting on the chair with his equipment out, shirt off.
I smile and walk over to him, and he gently helps me up onto his lap so I can straddle him, then passes me some gloves.
I quickly put them on, grab the tattoo gun, dip it in red, ready to color the rose, then get to work, letting the buzzing surround me.
I never knew tattooing was so relaxing, and honestly, it gives me the same sense of peace that ballet does. Weird, right? That something so different feels so calming?
“Have you heard from your sister?” Bellamy asks, and I look up to see him removing his hair tie and wrapping it around his wrist, letting his longish hair fall to the side, and I smile, loving that he knows me so well.
I admit, “I haven’t. Apparently, she’s barely spoken since Dad laid into her. Dad said she went to the gravesite, thinking he was bullshitting to get her to change her spoiled ways. Since she returned that night, she’s withdrawn, been very quiet, and is apparently helping Mom fix the mess in my old room but a leopard never changes its spots in my eyes.”
Bellamy hums, and I gently shade in the rose, and my heart pounds.
