Shotgun's (B) Ride (Men of Valor MC)

It has been a little over a month since I’ve been here. Almost a month since that night with Shotgun, a month since my father was in that accident – thank God, he has started to make a recovery, if a slow one. They want to keep him in Denver for a little while longer, just to make sure that he gets the specialist help he needs for as long as it takes him to get back on his feet.

But I feel as though we have been here a year straight, and I am not sure when – if ever – I will be able to get back to my normal life. The daycare where I work signed me off for as long as it takes, and even when I move back to Valor, I am sure that I will have to spend a lot of time helping my father through his rehabilitation.

Todd has offered to help, and I know that I should take him up on it, but there is a part of me that wants to put some distance between us. He has been good with my father since he has been down here, but honestly, he’s been treating this all as though I have finally seen the light and decided to give in and be with him.

And that’s the very last thing on my mind right now.

In fact, since I have been here, I have been doing my best to keep in touch with Shotgun, calling him every chance that I get to check in. It’s not often, but it’s something, even if I can feel Todd’s pissed-off glare at the back of my head every time I do it. Maybe that’s why I always make a point of calling him in front of Todd. To make sure that he knows that I’m not about to roll over and just let whatever this is happen.

Because the first thing that my father said to me, as soon as he woke up, was that he was so glad to see the two of us together.

"You have no idea what a relief it is," he murmured to me, clutching at my hand, even through his bleary gaze. "I know that you haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you’ve figured it out. Todd is the right man for you..."

I didn’t answer him then, and I still haven’t now. I don’t want to. I don’t want to have to have this conversation with my father – the one where I tell him that there is a man back in Valor who I can’t stop thinking about, a man who makes everything in my life make sense. A man I only spent a night with, but who I miss as though it has been a lifetime.

In all the exhaustion of everything that has been happening, I suppose that I haven’t been paying much attention to what’s going on inside my own body. It isn’t until Todd makes some asshole offhand comment that I must be on my period because I’m so moody that something hits me... my period is late.

I push it down at first, pinning it on the stress that I have been through, everything that has been happening, but I know there is more to it than that. My skin crawls as I head to a pharmacy near the hospital, pick up a test, and slip into the bathroom to take it.

I haven’t really been feeling anything too rough, so maybe it’s just the stress that has pushed my period back. Yes, nothing for me to worry about.

Please...

I wait three minutes before I look at the test, scared to see the result.

And my heart drops when I see what it says.

Positive.

I feel tears rolling down my cheeks – I hardly even notice that I’m crying until the wetness hits my skin. This can’t be happening. Not after everything else. Don’t I deserve a break? Don’t I deserve a damn second to pull myself together...?

Knowing I can’t stand in a public bathroom crying all day, I splash cold water on my face before taking a deep breath and heading back to my father’s room. He is preparing to leave the hospital today. He is still in a wheelchair, but the worst is behind us. His bags are packed and he’s coming back to the Airbnb where Todd and I have been staying.

I hope he won’t notice my blotchy red face, streaked in tears. But seeing as he is my dad, he knows right away that something is off.

"What’s wrong, baby?”

I shake my head. I can’t tell him. But then, how am I going to hide it? He’s going to find out eventually. And if I don’t tell someone about this soon, I’m going to lose my mind.

"I’m..."

I trail off. I can’t do this. Can I?