Off Limits (Kings of Mayhem MC 5)
“Look me in the eyes and tell me we’re through.” She took my hand and pressed it against her breast while her other hand rubbed the front of my jeans. “Look me in the eyes and say you don’t want me, and I will walk away.”
Once upon a time, the look she was giving me now would see me throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom where I would spend the next few hours buried inside her, making her moan my name over and over again. But those days were long gone. I knew it. And now I needed her to understand it, too.
I took a moment to look her right in the eyes because I wanted to be sure that I had her full attention.
“You and I, we had our chance and it didn’t work out. We’re over, Astrid. So, no, I don’t want this.” Her hand left my jeans. “You’re a beautiful, special woman, but my heart wholly belongs with someone else now. Do you understand me?”
Her other hand released its hold against mine and I pulled it away from her breast. I could see the pain in her eyes, and as much as I wanted to comfort her, the best thing I could do was walk away. I bent down and picked her robe up off the floor.
“Does this have something to do with that girl?”
Just the thought of my girl filled my chest with warmth.
“It has everything to do with her.”
“Do you love her?” she asked with a slight tilt of her chin and eyes glittering with tears.
I slid her robe around her shoulders. “Very much.”
Her shoulders slumped but she nodded, giving up the fight. “She’s a lucky girl.”
“I’m the lucky one.” I gave her a small smile. “I’m going to head back to the clubhouse. Are you going to be alright?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
I headed for the front door, determined to get back to the clubhouse for some shut-eye. “I’ll come by tomorrow at ten and take you to your doctor’s appointment.”
I had just opened the door when I heard her gasp. When I looked up, she was standing a short distance away with wide eyes and her hands to her face.
“Oh my God!” She looked at me startled. “My waters just broke.”
RUGER
After nearly twenty hours of labor, the baby was still no closer to coming, and Astrid was exhausted. There were complications, they said, and they would need to perform a cesarean section.
I paced the waiting room while Astrid was in surgery. I checked my phone, over and over, wanting desperately to hear from Chastity but getting nothing but radio silence. I typed her a text but deleted it, then typed her another one, but deleted that, too. My head was a tangled fucking mess. Part of me wanted to tell her that we weren’t done, that we would never be done. But the other part of me was pissed at her for not already knowing that.
I had turned into a fucking teenager.
No. You’ve fallen in love and it’s made you batshit crazy.
With a frustrated growl, I shoved my phone into my cut and raked my fingers down my face. I had to focus on Astrid and my son coming into the world. But I felt torn in all directions.
Finally, after an hour, a nurse appeared to tell me the surgery went well and both mother and baby were doing well. Elation flooded my veins as she led me to the babies’ room to introduce me to my son. My son. But when she took me over to him, I stopped in my tracks and my chest tightened.
Confused, I shook my head.
“Are you sure this is baby La Montagne?”
The nurse nodded. “Absolutely. I helped deliver him myself.”
I stared at my son in the crib.
Now, either my Viking forefathers came to America by way of the Orient, or this kid wasn’t mine.
My heart dive-bombed to my stomach.
Feeling duped, I walked back to the maternity ward, unsure how I felt.
No.
I knew how I felt.
I was fucking gutted.
My son.
He never existed.
And I looked like a fucking fool.
Emotion burned in me, but I bit it back. This ended now.
Astrid was sitting up in the bed when I walked in.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, my jaw tight.
“Tired and sore, but I’ll be okay.” She looked down. “Did you see him?”
Pain flared in my chest. “Yes, I’ve seen him.”
She looked up. “So you know?”
I nodded. “My question is, did you?”
The way she hesitated told me she did.
“I thought there was a chance he was yours. I mean, I hoped he was.” She frowned as she picked at the hospital blanket pulled up to her waist. “I met Lee when I got back to New Orleans after visiting you. I was so miserable about saying goodbye to you. It was just one night. When I found out I was pregnant, I thought about you. About us. I guess I convinced myself it was your baby.” She sniffed back her unshed tears. “I thought by the time he was born you’d realize how much you missed me, us, and that it wouldn’t matter whose baby it was. I thought we could find each other again.”