nursery for the baby. But don’t stress, we still have time. I’m only nine weeks.”
I shake my head as I stare at the ultrasound, feeling all my hopes and dreams slowly slipping through my fingers as I take the ultrasound picture from her hands. My baby.
What am I going to do?
I look back up at Jessa, taking in the way she rests her hand on her stomach. She steps in closer to me, getting right in my face and looking up into my eyes. “Don’t you see?” she whispers. “We’re going to have it all? Everything we ever wanted.”
Everything I ever wanted … just with the wrong girl.
“No, Jessa. This is definitely not what I wanted,” I tell her, slipping the picture into my jean’s pocket. “You might be pregnant with my child, but I promise you this; you and I will never be a family.”
With that, I make my way over to my truck and step up into it while ignoring Jessa’s pleas. Not a second later, I take off down the road, not sure where the hell I’m going to go.
I sit at the bar, staring at the empty shot glass in my hand as the world continues to go on without me.
How could I be so fucking stupid to get Jessa pregnant? Her of all people. The very person Jet just warned me was fucking crazy, and the girl who made Amelia’s senior year a living hell.
I was on the fence about her being crazy. I hadn’t seen that part of her before, so I chose not to believe it. After all, Jet has a long history of breaking girls’ hearts, and when he does, they tend to respond in less than acceptable ways, but Jessa. Nah, I thought he had it all wrong. That was until she went and said that we could get married and raise this baby as a fucking family.
What the hell has she been smoking? The last thing I would ever want is to attach myself to her. Marriage? What the fuck is wrong with her?
But more importantly, a baby.
I’m going to be someone’s father.
“You look like shit,” a voice says from above me, cutting through my torturous thoughts. I glance up to find Gabrielle standing before me with a bottle of bourbon in her hands. She indicates to my empty shot glass. “Need a top-up?”
I nod and wordlessly hold the glass out to her, watching as the brown liquid fills the glass. I throw it down and welcome the burn before holding my hand out for another. She obliges before discreetly sliding the bottle under the bar and cutting me off.
“Having a shitty day?” Gabrielle questions as she goes about the bar, continuing to fill glasses and sliding them to the sorry fuckers who look as though they're just as far up shit creek as I am.
“You’ve got no fucking idea.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile before taking pity on me and filling my shot glass one more time. She goes about her job and leaves me the hell alone to drown in my sorrows, and not twenty minutes later, Chief shows up at my side.
I let out a heavy sigh and shoot daggers at Gabrielle from across the bar. “She called you, didn’t she?” I groan before pushing the empty shot glass away.
“Yeah, she said you weren’t looking too good.”
I shake my head. I should have known. Gabrielle has called me a handful of times in the middle of the night when one of my boys have wound up here. I should have expected her to do the same for me, only I’ve been far too caught up with the baby news to even think it through.
“You didn’t need to come, man. Go home.”
“Fuck that,” he says, nodding towards Gabrielle and watching as she jumps into action, pouring him a beer. “What’s going on? After the weekend we just had, you should be celebrating, not sitting alone in a bar, looking as though a house just came down on your mother.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he says. “Gabrielle just got my ass out of bed to come and sort you out, and I’m not fucking leaving until I have some answers.”
I roll my eyes, not bothering to feel bad about him being pulled out of bed, but knowing he’s not lying. Chief won’t be leaving this bar until he knows what’s going on with me, even if it means beating it out of me. He’s just that kind of guy.