Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men 6)

“Thanks for the paternity lesson,” I quipped as he parked, and I made to get out of the car.

His hand clamped on my arm, stopping me. I looked up at him in warning because I did not like to be touched like that, but the look on his face stopped me from growling.

“She’s pregnant,” he said.

I blinked. “Lou?”

He barked a sharp laugh. “No, brother. Bea. She’s pregnant. They discovered it when they were checkin’ her out. Seems she’s ’bout five weeks along. The doctor told Bea, and she seemed fuckin’ panicked, didn’t know how you’d take it. My woman, bein’ my woman, who was there when this shit went down, she called me to suss out the situation ’fore I sent you in there. Bea’s been through a fuck ton. She doesn’t need more shit heaped on her plate, you get me?”

I blinked and blinked, eyes focused over Z’s shoulder into the frosted parking lot.

Bea was pregnant.

With my baby.

Me.

The death dealer, the walking dead man had created life with one of the most incredible women and beautiful hearts on this earth.

Me.

A baby.

“Priest?” Z called, shaking my arm before releasing it. “You good, brother?”

“Yeah,” I said, voice too hoarse.

I didn’t stop to clear it or to explain myself to my prez.

I was out of the car in an instant, stalking across the tarmac and then jogging through the reception to the elevator. I didn’t have to ask where Bea’s room was since the waiting room was filled with Fallen family.

I opened my mouth to demand King tell me where she was when I was hit with a ton of bricks. I stared down at Louise Garro as she clung to me with sharp, strong hands and wept into my dried blood splattered cut.

“Thank you,” she cried loudly, drawing the notice of the nurses at their station and some of the visitors walking down the hall.

I stood there like a wooden plank as she hugged me tight, looking up at King, Cress, Nova, Lion, and Harleigh Rose with wide eyes. The girls giggled at me.

“I’m sorry,” Loulou said, pulling back just enough to drop her head back to look up at me, her arms still around my waist. She had pretty eyes, a shade or two darker than Bea’s and nowhere near as large and fucking beguiling. But they were pretty enough and now filled with crystalline tears. “I’m sorry for being such a mess. It’s just, you know”––she flapped a hand in the air, then linked it back around me as if we often stood in a close embrace––“your sister gets abducted by a religious nut, you tend to lose your cool, you know?”

I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to be rude to Bea’s sister, but fuck, I just wanted to get to my girl.

“Anyways…” She sniffed delicately and then leveled a tremulous smile my way that almost had the wattage of one of Bea’s. “Thank you. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick, but Bea’s my sister and my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together, and as her older sister, I don’t want to see her go through anything else. I judged you unfairly, and I’m sorry for that. When shit hit the fan, it wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t hesitate to save her.”

She sucked in a huge breath, and I worried she was winding up for more, but she only exhaled and patted me on the chest before stepping back to smile at me again. “Of all people, I should know that heroes come in all shapes and sizes. I’m just glad I’m not the only Lafayette with a guardian monster.”

“Okay,” I said, fucking relieved she was done but aware this was a big moment for her, if not for me. “Where’s Bea?”

She blinked at me, then burst out laughing, holding her belly as she did so. “I can see why my sister loves you. You definitely know your priorities. She’s in Room 207. Did Z, ah, talk to you?”

I ignored her, moving down the hall toward Room 207. The next person I talked to about this baby was going to be my woman, not another bloody member of her family.

Just as I reached the door, Pastor Lafayette came through it, looking weathered by the events of the last few days. He didn’t seem startled to see me. If anything, his expression questioned why it had taken me so long to get there.

“Priest,” he said tiredly, then laughed. “That can’t be your real name, is it?”

“It has been for twelve years. The boy before Priest died a long time ago, and with it the name I was born with,” I confessed reluctantly.

The pastor wasn’t a bad man. From everything I’d witnessed over the years, he was the only good Christian leader I’d ever met, but more than that, he was Bea’s beloved grandpa, and he deserved some of my respect just for that.