I didn’t think the first thing I would have to shoulder solo would be something this huge. I wish I had someone else to talk to. It’s a lonely life when you fall out of favor, and I have a bad feeling I’m in for the fight of my life with this one.
I wonder what Vince is doing. Is he still hiding out at his dad’s? I would guess not, since Mateo said he found him. Wouldn’t be too hard to find if he was in the last place you looked. We haven’t talked about that again, since obviously this became the more pressing issue, but I wish I knew for sure he was all right. After last time, I don’t think Mateo would do anything impulsively, but finding out I’m probably carrying Vince’s baby is pretty damn good incentive if he was on the fence about it. How would I even know? No one would tell me. He could kill Vince and just lie to me about it.
I don’t think he has, though. He would be more relaxed about things, right?
Or maybe he wouldn’t. I don’t even know what his primary concern about all this is, because we’ve hardly said two words to each other.
This is not how I imagined entering motherhood.
I fall asleep alone.
I’m relieved, though, when I’m jostled awake as Mateo wraps his arms around me, tugging me back against him. I turn in his arms, leaning in to give him a kiss, but I don’t deepen it.
“Oh, my. You have had a lot to drink, haven’t you?”
“Yup.”
I smile as he leans in, leaving kisses along my neck. He smells like cigars, too. I’m considering suggesting we go shower, but I’m not sure I have the energy for all that. Maybe I’ll just suck it up.
As his magnificent mouth works its magic in the crook of my neck, Mateo murmurs roughly, “You have to let me kill Vince.”
That’s a mood killer. My smile falls and I sag. “Do we really have to talk about this now?”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he replies.
“You know I won’t, so I don’t know why you keep asking. If he becomes a threat, that’s different, but if he’s minding his own business, thousands of miles away—”
“Minding his own business?” he demands, pulling back to widen his eyes at me. “He kidnapped you. You are mine and he got you pregnant. He took you away from me and he got you pregnant. I don’t give a fuck if he never comes back; I want him dead.”
I swallow, averting my gaze. “We don’t know for sure yet. Maybe the doctor got the date wrong. I was looking it up online, and I guess sometimes the baby is just a little smaller or a little bigger, so the doctor determines the woman has been pregnant for longer or not as long as she actually has. Since I don’t know the date of my last period, we don’t know that I got pregnant in Vegas. Let’s see what the test says next week.”
“And if it says Vince is the father, I can kill him?”
“Well, no.”
Mateo rolls his eyes, sighing and falling back on the bed. “Then what are we waiting for?”
“Does it really have to matter so much?” I ask, rolling onto my side and looking at him. “I know it isn’t ideal, but I love Bella even though she’s not mine, and you love Lily even though she’s not yours—and you didn’t even meet Lily until she was a few years old. You’ll be there every step of the way with this one. You’ll be her father in every way.”
“Her. And if it’s a boy?”
“Who cares if it’s a boy?”
“I do. Vince and I do not have compatible bloodlines.”
I sigh now, rolling on my back the same way he is. “You people and your fucking bloodlines.”
“You know why Vince’s dad moved to Vegas after Vince’s mom died?”
“Well, since you’re bringing it up now, I’ll assume it’s because he and your dad didn’t get along.”
Mateo nods once. “And I don’t have to tell you how well Vince and I got along.”
“Because you fucked me,” I state. “You guys didn’t hate each other before I happened.”
“Not that much, but we still never really got along. Think back, Mia. Before I ever met you, when Vince mentioned me—did we seem like buddies?”
Sighing heavily, I say, “No.”
“I don’t want to invite that kind of trouble.”
“I just don’t think it has to be like that. You’re making wild assumptions here. Maybe I’ll have a son and he won’t even want anything to do with any of it.”
“Yeah, and maybe he’ll be a fucking hothead who wants what my son has.”
I press my lips together, glaring up at the ceiling. “Well, sure, if you raise him saying things like that, probably. But that would be your fault, not Vince’s. Pit them against each other and of course they’ll grow up feeling like rivals. You don’t need a PH.D in human behavior to figure that one out.”