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“I figured. That’s why I came here before hitting the bar.” Pushing off the bed, Zane pulled a balled fist out of his jacket pocket and extended it toward me. Hesitantly, I held out my hand as he dropped two small blue pills into my palm.
“Sleeping pills?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m not taking random sleeping pills.” I shoved my hand back into his chest.
“Do you want to sleep, or would you like to end up in the mental insti-fucking-tution?” he snarled. “Now take the goddamn pills before I punch you in the face.”
He lifted the bottle, and I closed my fingers around it, swallowing the pills. “What kind of father am I going to be if I can’t take care of my kid before it’s even born?”
Leaning his head against the wall, Zane stared up at the ceiling. “You’re going to be a kick-ass father, and you know it. This insta-family isn’t exactly conventional…but, hell, you and Phoebe have never been conventional.”
For the first time all night, a grin snaked across my face. “I guess that makes you Uncle Zane, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m deciding if I should take him to get sleeves on his fifth or sixth birthday.”
The easy banter calmed me. “No tattoos on my kid until he’s at least ten.” I laughed. “Besides, what if it’s a girl?”
He smirked again. “Nipple ring?”
Scowling, I picked up my phone and threw it at his head. “That shit’s not funny, Z. You’re not getting near my daughter, you freak.”
Silence invaded the room as we stared at each other—an unspoken alliance. For a few moments, he’d succeeded in redirecting my paranoia. Suddenly dizzy, I shook my head as shapes distorted my vision in a blurred haze. “What the…?” A soft chuckle to my right swiveled my head in its direction, the movement making me feel like a bobble head.
“Good night, Jagger.”
“I’m not sleepy,” I slurred.
“You’ll be out in less than five minutes.”
The room spun. I tried to stand up, but the floor tilted below my feet. “What the hell were those things anyway?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I attempted, without success, to cock an eyebrow. “Are they legal?”
“In a couple countries.” Everything moved in slow motion as Zane maneuvered me to the bed and pushed me down with a friendly shove. “Sleep it off, man. In the morning, you’ll talk to Phoebe and realize you’re a paranoid douche.” He chuckled and closed the door behind him.
It took me four tries to remove my boots. Each time, my hand slipped from the heel, catapulting me onto the floor. Finally, throwing the right one across the room, I crawled back up the bed and fell against the pillows. As my eyes closed, whiskey swam in my stomach until the darkness took it all away, depositing me into blissful nothingness.
***
I tore through the halls of the hospital, cursing every word I could pull from my vast, offensive vocabulary. A few nurses popped their heads up to complain when Zane shot them a look, his expression conveying a dark enough message they backed off.
He was on my shit list too. Those fucking pills knocked me out cold last night. Otherwise, I’d have been awake to hear Faith’s message.
“Hey, Julian, it’s Faith Addison. Don’t be mad, but Phoebe’s in the hospital. She didn’t want me to tell you because she says everything’s okay. She had some sort of anxiety attack and some contractions. She’s going home in the morning, so no need to worry. I’ll have her call you from the house. Again, don’t be mad at her, okay? I just thought you deserved to know.”
No need to worry.
Right.
Mid-stride, I shot Zane a venomous side glare. “You knew?
At least he had the decency to seem halfway apologetic. “Yeah, but I didn’t know they’d go all Thelma and Louise.”
“You’re fucking her?”
