Authors: Becca Lee,Hot Tree Editing,Lm Creations
I was still scared shitless, but not of David. It had more to do with if I killed the bastard, I would end up missing the birth of my baby, miss growing old with Jo. That was not something even conceivable. I would not give him the satisfaction of destroying what I had worked so damn hard for. Never again.
“You good, Liam?” Mace checked.
“I will be when we get this over with.”
Mace nodded in understanding before he raised his hand and rapped on the door.
Bottles being knocked to the ground alerted us to someone heading toward the door. Alain, wearing a dirtied-up tee and shorts, greeted us with a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Boys,” he said. “You here to see your dad?”
Mace nodded.
“Come on through. He’s out the back. Not sure what sense you’ll get out of him, though.”
We followed Alain through the mountain of empty beer bottles and over-filled ashtrays. The air was pungent and left a bad taste in my mouth. Once outside, I felt able to inhale, appreciate the fresh air. Glancing around the unkempt yard, my gaze landed on David, who sprawled out on a lounger. His eyes barely open, he sported a black eye of his own. A sadistic satisfaction crawled through me, knowing he’d been hurt. The man deserved so much more.
He attempted to sit up straighter and prise open his eyes when he saw us. I knew the two Mason boys together was an intimidating sight: tall, broad and, between the two of us, sporting a multitude of fierce artwork. We manoeuvred two seats and positioned them in front of him. I was tired already, yet the day had barely begun.
“The hell happened to you?” Mace asked. Neither of us gave a crap, but I was curious as hell, so I was pleased he’d asked.
He grunted and wiped a hand across his mouth. Peering at us, his glazed eyes made it clear he was still high. “Some jacked-up kids took the rest of my stash.”
Mace huffed in disgust. “Was this before or after you were around Liam’s?” Mace was a dead-set no-bullshitter, a characteristic that I admired and others feared.
David’s eyes travelled to me. He had the good sense to look away and shake his head. “After,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to go there. I went to see if you were there, Liam.”
“Why the fuck would you do that? Did I not make it clear a few weeks ago? Did Mace not make it clear yesterday?”
His gaze lifted to mine fleetingly. “I know. I don’t know what I was trying to do, or would have said.” His voice was growing stronger, a bit of the David I knew breaking through the drug-induced haze. “I just…I’m sorry. My prison counsellor told me I should make amends.”
Clenching my fists, I felt like lunging at him, could almost hear the crack of my knuckles against his flesh. Instead, I remained seated, thinking about Jo and our baby. “How can you even begin to think there is anything you can say or do to make this right? Your counsellor,” I scoffed at the word, “needs to get a bastard clue. ‘Cause I swear, old man, I see you within a hundred metres of me or Jo again, that black eye you’re donning will be nothing. Just a scratch in comparison to the world of pain I’ll bring down on you.” My plan was he wouldn’t have the opportunity anyway. As soon as I left, I was heading to the cop shop and would be reporting the scumbag.
That time, he maintained eye contact. A flash of defiance, the man I knew him to be, appeared in his eyes before disappearing just as fast. He nodded too quickly for my liking. His acceptance of everything, his refusal to argue back, didn’t sit well. While he was high, the drugs had often sparked his vicious streak, so his calm acceptance set my alarms ringing.
“A nod isn’t going to cut it,” Mace added. “I need the words.”
“Yeah, I got it. I’ll stay away.” He wiped his nose with a jittery hand.
Mace leaned forward. “Just so we’re clear, old man. If it wasn’t for Liam here, you’d already be dead. I will make that happen if I need to. Now back the fuck off.”
“I will.”
I stood, needing to get out of there. I wanted a beer. It was after midday somewhere in the world. Mace followed my lead and we headed to the back gate, neither of us wanting to re-enter the house.
“You’re going to be a dad.”
His voice stopped me in my tracks. Turning slowly, I walked back toward him. I only stopped when I was an inch from his face after bending. “I’m this close from beating Mace to the chase and fucking you over myself. Push me again, say anything remotely related to my family to me again, and I’ll happily do time for you.” The next words fell from my mouth before I could prevent them, my anger too acute to stop them if I had taken a moment for pause. “And don’t get too comfortable. I’m sure your parole officer is going to have a field day with all the conditions you’ve broken.”
His eyes maintained contact with mine. He didn’t waver for a few short moments until he eventually turned his head, signalling he understood. Returning to Mace, we left the yard and headed to our bikes.
“You need a beer?” Mace fastened his helmet as he spoke.
“Damn straight.” While I wished I hadn’t provided him with a warning, there was bugger all I could do about it now. Once I’d tucked away a beer, I’d be filing my complaint. A beer would also let me figure out if I should talk to Jo or not. I was damned aware I’d been walking the line of our ‘honesty first’ policy since I’d first heard of David’s early release, and it didn’t sit well at all. On the flip side, the last thing I needed was Jo stressing and putting herself or our baby at risk. It was a clusterfuck neither of us wanted.
“Come on. Let’s head to mine.” Mace interrupted my thoughts.
Taking one last look at the house, relief swept through me. David would have to have a death wish if he thought about coming within the vicinity of me or mine. He knew us both well enough to know we were not talking shit. When you’d been brought up in a world of violence, it was sometimes hard to leave that shit alone. For Jo, I had made the change, but the urge to lash out sat under the surface. It had lain dormant for the last seven years or so, and I knew I’d need to work hard to bury it again. Jo and my family were too important. I was determined to not allow anything or anyone to screw with what we’d worked so hard to make great.
Chapter Eleven
Jo
It was so much easier than my twelve-week scan. For this one, I no longer had to have my bladder near bursting; our baby was big enough to ensure she would be seen easily, no extra fluid necessary. Prior to our twenty-week scan, we’d discussed whether we’d find out the sex. Even though I was crazy-excited and desperately wanted to know, a part of me was happy to leave it as a surprise.
Since I was the one growing at a crazy rate, I had the last say, much to Liam’s grunts of disapproval.
“So, can you tell if it’s a boy or girl?” he asked the doctor, and received a punch in the arm from me. “Ouch, woman, what’s that for?”
“You know why. Don’t ask.”
“I wasn’t asking. I just asked if she could tell.”
The doctor looked on, amused.
“So, can you tell?”
She nodded. “I can. I’m assuming you don’t want to know.” She directed her question at me.
“No, thank you. We’re going to wait.”
Liam folded his arms and huffed dramatically.
“Oh, stop it. Just think how great it will be on the day.” I briefly took my eyes away from the monitor and our dancing baby. It appeared she had some moves. She was always wriggling around, usually at two o’clock in the damn morning, but watching the screen, reminded me it was all worthwhile and to suck it up. I knew in a couple of days I’d be huffing and sighing, while taking another huge dose of antacids at some stupid hour in the morning. But for the time being, I’d bask in the wonder which was our dancing baby.
Liam smiled at me before looking once more at the screen. “He’s amazing, right?”
“
She
really is,” I answered.
The doctor laughed at our exchange, no doubt used to such conversations. “Everything is still wonderful. You’re still on date target, plus all of your measurements are in the perfect percentile. We’re all good here. We won’t need to see you again for a scan. Are you all booked up for your next appointment with your midwife, Jo?”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s in a couple of weeks’ time.”
“Okay, great.” She leaned toward the machine and removed the image, which she’d just printed. “This is for the two of you.” She handed the image to Liam and stood. “If you want to get yourself ready, I’ll just step outside.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and proceeded to remove the gloop from my stomach with a paper towel.
When she left the room, Liam helped me up and pulled me into his arms. “You look hot today.”
I snorted, a particularly attractive feature of mine, which I often displayed when Liam was talking crap. “Gloop, a clinical room and my expanding butt gets you hot and horny? Is that it?”
“If you bend over and lean on that bed, we have five minutes. I can show you just how horny I am for you.” A smirk lit up his beautiful face.
God, I love this smart-mouthed man.
I laughed abruptly. “Five minutes? Wow, Liam, really. Stop, you’re spoiling me,” I jested.
“What?” He laughed. “Seriously, it may only be three if you talk dirty to me.” He took my hand, placed it on top of his erection and nudged it.
“Well, as hard,” he snorted once more as I spoke, “and as tempting an offer as that may be, you can keep it in your pants, mister. There’s no chance I’m dropping my knickers for you in here.”
I knew I’d been going through my own version of feeling crazy-horny, which Liam was totally up for, but even when he was hard enough to nudge me, nothing screamed
not on your life
more than a hospital room. Nope, sexy it was not. “Come on, Randy. Let’s get going. You can take me out for lunch.”
Readjusting himself, there was little he could do to disguise his hard-on fully, which I found bloody hilarious. Served the idiot right for getting hot and bothered, over what I wasn’t quite sure.
One thing about having a bulging belly, which was completely awesome, apart from the obvious tiny human being growing inside me, was maternity pants. They were so damn comfortable. Stuffed to capacity, I considered picking up my plate, which had remnants of chocolate cake and cream on it, to lick it dry.
“You want to lick it, don’t you?”
I flicked my gaze to Liam’s, who was looking at me in amusement. “No,” I said defensively. The man knew me too well.
“Right. If I leave the table to go to the toilet, can I trust you to leave mine alone?”
I eyed his cake, not realising he still had some left over. My eye twitched and I dragged my eyes away from temptation. “Yep!” I popped the ‘p’ as I spoke. Lifting an eyebrow in disbelief at me, I continued, attempting to defend myself. “What? You’re being ridiculous. I
can
control myself, you know. I’m not like you who struggles to keep his dick in his pants as soon as you feel horny and want to throw me down.”
His left eyebrow lifted to match his right.
“Seriously. You’re horny now, right?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Was it because I said dick?”
“Maybe,” he answered shiftily. “Could’ve also something do with the visual of throwing you down.”
Laughter erupted from me as I looked across at Liam. He’d always been a horndog, and while it had caused times of frustrating me half to death, as he was known to try for a quick grope at every opportunity, I was thrilled he felt the same way about me as he always had.
Being twenty weeks’ pregnant, I finally reached that stage of being at peace with my pregnancy and future. While I was nervous about the whole birth and crapping in the bed thing, I was excited about having a baby and being a mum. In the last six weeks especially, my body had changed pretty dramatically, and so far, there wasn’t a single moment where I wasn’t okay with that. Not like I had any choice in how my body changed, of course. I knew I could lay off the cake, but why in the hell would I want to do that? Liam was a major player in my comfort. He continued to worship my changing body and made me feel sexy when doing so.
I knew I was blessed and hoped I continued being so lucky.
“I don’t think there’s much chance of you throwing me anywhere for a while, babe. A nice thought, but perhaps you need to rethink your fantasies a little.”