When I release her, I bite my lip once more. “Do you think you could keep it a secret for a while longer? Not just that I’m pregnant, I mean. The whole thing about Gabe and me finding somewhere new to live. I’m not so sure that Mark was thrilled about the idea of Gabe starting up a sister chapter, and I don’t think he’s told him we might just leave the club.”
Starla smiles warmly, her eyes twinkling brightly. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, pulling her in for one more hug.
23
Gabriel
Sleeping separatelyfrom Winter was harder than I imagined, harder than those first few days she stayed in the house when she had no memories. Back then, it had been torture to know she was in the other room, with nothing to stop me except my own discipline, when all I wanted to do was spread her legs and take her. I’d been dreaming of it for months before I found her in the Blackmoor manor’s basement, her perfect body laid bare for me to see. Having her two doors down and yearning for her day in and day out had felt like an excruciating form of torture then.
But now, it’s a different kind of pain. Yes, I want to be inside her still. If I could, I would bury myself in her pussy every moment of every day because that’s as close to heaven as I think I’ll ever get. But that’s not what’s causing the agony I feel at being apart from her now. It’s not just that I miss her presence, I miss her delicate body pressed snugly against mine.
It’s knowing that I may have held her for the last time. I’m giving her the space she needs to make a decision, one she’s going to be making for both of us. And what she decides will determine whether I get to be a part of her life any longer. Because I can’t continue to keep her trapped, locked away in my room, so I don’t have to let her go. I’ve done it for far too long, and I can see the resentment building between us.
She doesn’t want me. Not like that, and now I’ve imprisoned her in a much more permanent way. I’ve forced a child upon her, and now she has to decide not only if she wants to stay with me, but also if she wants to keep it. She knows I want more than anything to start a family with her. I knew it from the moment I fucked her raw on the pool table. I wanted to put a baby inside her and watch her grow round with the seed I filled her with. I didn’t ask, and now, I’ve tied my fate with that of my child’s. Winter might choose to reject us both.
Unable to sleep with all the thoughts racing through my head, I rise before the sun and take a long, cold shower. Then I dress and head to the clubhouse for breakfast. Despite the early hour, Deb is there to make me pancakes and coffee, and we share a companionable silence as we wait for the clubhouse to fill.
Every few minutes, I glance at the clock, wondering if it’s been long enough, if I’ve given Winter enough space and might go check in on her.She wouldn’t go to the clinic, would she?Not without telling me. Not this time. She promised me, after all. But I wonder if she’ll choose to make the doctor’s appointment or if she’s already made up her mind. Maybe she’s just building up the courage to tell me she’s leaving.
If she does, I wonder where she might go. I’m sure Starla would be more than happy to take her in. But Starla lives with Mark, and if he found out that Winter wasn’t with me anymore, I’m confident he would choose to hand her over to the Blackmoor heirs.
As far as I’m aware, Winter has nowhere else to go. And that alone makes me hate myself for what I did to her. I’ve trapped her in so many ways. Of course, she’s pissed at me. Of course, she wouldn’t want to have my child. I’ve probably been taking advantage of her vulnerability, making her feel like she has no other choice but to sleep with me because she has nowhere else to go.
But she didn’t always know that. Before she knew she was in danger, Winter chose to sleep with me. She wanted me. She’d been scared at first about not having her memory, but she’d been so open to the thought of loving me.Had I taken advantage of that? Was it cruel of me to pretend we could be together when she didn’t truly know who she was and therefore couldn’t fully grasp what it meant to be with me?I’m utterly lost in the tangled web I’ve created.
All I know is that I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to let her take my baby from me. But I’ve done all I can, said all I can. It’s up to Winter now. I sit at the bar, drinking coffee for hours as I grow antsier. Our appointment’s at eleven, and I watch the clock slowly tick closer to that time.
It won’t take long for us to get there, and I’ve already asked Pete if I could borrow his truck for the day so she won’t have to ride on the bike. But by ten thirty, I’m starting to wonder if she might choose not to go at all.
My leg bounces nervously as I stare into my mug, ignoring everyone around me. People stopped trying to talk to me hours ago when they found a conversation in which I only responded with grunts of acknowledgment to be both boring and pointless. It’s better that way. I’m wound so tight that I feel like if I say something, it will come out more like a snarl.
Why is it that I feel like my world is balancing on the head of a pin?Any moment now, it might topple into the abyss. I hate this feeling. I hate the lack of control. I feel like I just need todosomething. Anything. And then it hits me. This must be what Winter has felt for weeks.
Grinding the heels of my palms into my eyes, I massage them, trying to rub the thought from my brain. But now that it’s there, I can’t get it to go away.I’m such an ass. She’s going to leave me.Worse. She probably won’t even come out of the room. She’ll stay in there until I can’t take it anymore, and when I come bursting through the door, she’ll have all the proof she needs that I can’t put her wishes above my own.
“You look like you need a Xanax or something,” Deb observes, trading out my coffee for an ice-cold bottle of beer.
I glance at it spitefully, unwilling to drink it until I’m sure we won’t be going to the doctor’s appointment and I’ll need something to numb the pain.
“I’m fine,” I growl, snatching the bottle up so I can peel away the label while I wait.
Deb raises her eyebrows skeptically. “If you say so.” She strolls away to the other end of the bar, finding someone less caustic to talk to.
I glance at the clock again, then over to the double doors. The handle turns, and I clench my teeth, forcing my hope down as I brace for another disappointment. I’ve already snapped at Rico and Dallas when they said good morning coming through the doors. It’s probably just Knuckles this time.
But as one side slowly swings wide, I feel as though my heart has stuttered to a halt in my chest. Winter stands there, dressed in one of my sweatshirts that hangs almost to her knees and a pair of ripped jeans. The lined leather jacket tells me she’s ready for the cold January air, and suddenly my heart leaps into my throat. She’s dressed for the doctor’s appointment.
“Ready to go?” I ask tentatively, trying to keep the hope out of my voice.
Winter smiles softly, combing a lock of red hair behind her ear. “Ready.”
Sliding from my barstool, I offer her my hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she takes it. I’m not sure what that means, if I made a mistake by offering her contact or if she’s simply surprised by the gesture. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure we’ve ever held hands. But I don’t take the time to mull that over.
Guiding her toward the front door, I pull Pete’s keys from my pocket.
“Aren’t we taking your bike?” she asks in confusion, looking over her shoulder to where my bike is parked in the back.