The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(57)

“Pregnant?” I repeat

“Pregnant,” Doc confirms with a smile. The realization of the situation hits, making my head ache more than it already does. How could I be so na?ve to think I wouldn’t get pregnant? I got lucky not getting pregnant before, and I took advantage of that luck.

I sigh and let the paper fall from my hands. How stupid am I? How did I not think this would happen?

“Holy shit,” Shadows mutters as he grabs my hand from the side of the bed.

***

I am wheeled into a dark room on the third floor of the hospital moments later. The room is dimmed and on the yellow-painted wall is a medium-sized, flat-screen TV. In the corner of the small room there are a couple of chairs and on the other side of the bed the ultrasound machine.

A nurse with curly, short black hair places a white blanket around my waist and pulls the hospital gown up a little.

“I’m going to try this first, so I’ll need you pull your knees up,” the nurse warns as she grabs a long wand and puts a condom on it. I look at Shadow who is sitting right next to me. He’s focused on the TV, his face lined with worry. My father and Bobby look towards the wall giving me privacy. I take a big gulp and pull my knees up. She darts the long wand through my open knees and slides it inside me.

I look at the screen, but all I see is black and white spots. She angles the wand and presses firmly. The nurse starts to click and push buttons as lines form across the spots on the screen.

“The baby looks good,” the nurse says with a smile. I watch as she zooms in on a little black and white oval.

“That’s the baby,” she chirps, and the sight makes me suck in a breath.

“Well, I’ll be,” my dad comments with a big smile.

I glance at Shadow; his face is tight and staring intently at the screen. His eyebrows are furrowed and they’re causing a little wrinkle right between his eyes.

“Looking at the measurements, you’re a month along,” she says, pulling the wand out of me. I instantly pull my knees together and pull the blanket down. The lady hands me a black and white picture of our baby. “Congratulations. I’ll have someone take you back to your room in just a moment.” She stands up and walks out.

“Holy shit,” Shadow says again, his voice laced with shock and disbelief.

I look at him; his eyes are closed and his arm is brought up, rubbing the back of his neck.

My eyes begin to fill with tears.

“Fuck,” Bobby says, staring at my stomach like something is going to jump out at him.

“We are going to go and give you guys some space,” my dad tells us, pushing Bobby toward the door.

Shadow looks at the blank TV screen on the wall, his hands running back and forth through his hair frantically.

“I can’t be a father,” Shadow whispers.

“Well, you are,” I say softly.

“Look at me, look at what I am!” Shadow roars, his loud voice making me jump.

He walks closer and leans into me. “I’m a f*cking monster, a murderer. I live a life of hell. I don’t deserve you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve a child,” he whispers, his tone somber.

“This is our child, Shadow, not the kid from down the road,” I snap, my tone clipped and cold.

“You have been around me a couple of months and already have succumbed to my darkness. I’ve killed your innocence. How can you expect to keep a child safe around me?” Shadow wonders, his blue eyes looking right at me.

“My violent urges were always a part of me, Shadow. Whether I’m around you, or the club, or the angry guy down the street, they were bound to come out,” I say, sitting up. “You have another side of you, just like I have another side to me. You will be a great father, you just have to give—”

“I need some time to think,” Shadow interrupts.

“What?” I ask in disbelief.

Shadow leans in and kisses my forehead gently. “I need some time to process this, Dani,” Shadow says gravely before rushing out.





I’M WHEELED INTO MY room by myself after Shadow leaves.

“All right, so we will have to go about some medication for pain differently,” Doc says, her voice tender and caring. I stare at the ultrasound picture the nurse gave me of the little black and white dot, my mind going everywhere, not solely focusing on one thing or the other.

“Everybody will get over it, and if not, they will when they see the baby,” she continues sweetly.

I tear my eyes from the picture and give her a weak smile, not so sure of her optimism.

“Are you keeping it?” she questions. I look out the dark window of the hospital room, her question playing repeat in my head. Should I keep it? There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t but most of all, this lifestyle isn’t safe for a child.

“I’m going to get your arm casted and get you feeling better,” she promises, patting my leg, leaving me with my thoughts of neglect.

***

Knocking at the door wakes me from my sleep. My body, protesting from its abuse, aches and burns with movement.

“Dani, you have a visitor,” a nurse says, turning on the vibrant light, which makes me squint.

I look at the window of the hospital and see the sun is just starting to rise; it could only be six in the morning, if that.