Gypsy king

“I do want—wait. How am I now the villain? You’re the one who held something back. You’re the one who lied about that stupid picture.” Why did I feel guilty?

“That picture means nothing. We both know that. You have a story written that could ruin the lives of people I love. Not an apples-to-apples deal here, babe.”

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it shut. My shoulders fell, weighed down by a hopelessness that might topple me to the floor.

“It’s not about the photo or the story,” I whispered. “We don’t trust each other. How can this work if we don’t trust each other?”

Dash’s anger evaporated and he shook his head. “Hell if I know. When you figure it out, do me a favor and clue me in. Because right now, it’s looking to me like this is over before it really got started. I’m go

He swiped up his wallet, shoving it into his jeans. And then without another word, he stalked out of the kitchen.

“Wait.” While we were dealing with the heavy stuff, I had to add on one more thing. He deserved to know before he walked out the door. “I have to tell you something.”

Dash turned, putting his hands on his hips. “Can it wait?”

“No.” I swallowed the burn in my throat. Tell him. “I’m pregnant.”

A terrifying silence filled the room. Seconds ticked by like hours. A minute felt like a day. Dash stood so still, it looked like he wasn’t even breathing.

It was how I knew he’d heard me.

My heart thudded, painfully so, as I waited and waited and waited. Until finally, he blinked, shaking his head just slightly. “Not possible. I always use a condom.”

His precious condoms.

“One of them didn’t work.”

It was hard to tell when, but the timing suggested it was soon after we got together. Maybe on the Mustang. But guessing was futile. Other than our two-week hiatus after Draven had threatened me, Dash and I had been having sex constantly.

The silence returned. Tears welled in my eyes and no amount of blinking could keep my vision from turning glassy.

I’d had a friend at the TV station in Seattle who’d made a big deal out of telling her husband she was pregnant by staging baby foods at home next to a onesie with Daddy stamped on the front. The morning after her a

And I’d been jealous. I wanted the laughter. The excitement. The kiss after my husband learned we were making a family.

“Say something,” I whispered. The silence was breaking my heart. At this point, I’d take yelling if that meant he’d speak.

His eyes drifted up from the floor, and it was then that I saw true fear.

Dash spun on his boot. He ripped open the door, not bothering to close it behind him as he rushed to his bike. The sound of his motorcycle engine didn’t linger because he was gone in a flash.

“Goddamn it.” I walked to the door, blinking away the tears as I closed it and flipped the lock. If he did come back, he’d have to ring the doorbell.

Eventually, he had to come back. Didn’t he? He wouldn’t leave me forever. Right? The idea of doing this alone, of not having Dash to lean on, made my entire body ache. Would we get through this? Together?

We had to. We were better together. Didn’t he see that? Sure, I could do this alone. But I didn’t want to. I wanted Dash.

He couldn’t avoid me forever. Us forever. We lived in the same town. We were having this baby whether he was ready for it or not. Because maybe he’d pegged himself as the fun uncle, but I’d be damned if I let my kid grow up not knowing his or her father.

I wouldn’t let Dash turn into Draven, missing out on his child’s life until it was too late.

Walking to the counter, I pounded a fist on the granite. “Damn him.”

We’d have words. And soon. Before this baby came, Dash was going to man up.

I’d make sure of it.

Determined not to sit here and wallow, I picked up my phone and sent Mom a text, telling her I’d be over for di

I shut off the lights in my house, taking my purse and a bottle of wine for Mom—I wouldn’t need it for a solid year. Then I went to my parents’ house, enjoying some time with them alone and doing my best not to think about Dash and the baby.

When I got home, I was exhausted and ready to collapse. I was so tired, I barely had my eyes open as I shuffled inside.

The house was dark, but I didn’t need the lights on to find my way to the bedroom. I liked the dark because it hid the basket of laundry on the couch. It hid the glass Dash had left by the sink.

It also hid the figure, cloaked in black, who’d been waiting for me to get home.