Page 145 of Wicked Brutal

Ryan pulls me closer. “Then we deal with that day when it gets here.”

“That’s terrible planning.”

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to have some psychotic Ryan plan.”

“I have several.”

I lift my head. “Really?”

“Every one of them ends with my father disowning me, Arthur developing a stress-induced medical condition, or me going to prison.” A watery laugh escapes me. “There she is.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot.” His hand slides beneath mine until both of our palms rest against my stomach. “I don’t have the date.” I nod. “But I have you.” My throat tightens. “And I have this baby.” His fingers thread through mine. “And Tobias.”

Something inside me cracks.

“That kid ran into my arms yesterday because he was scared. He sat at my kitchen table and trusted me with things he’s afraid to say in his own house. So no, I don’t have his name on some custody paperwork.” His thumb moves across mine. “But he’s part of this. He’s part of us. I’m not leaving him behind.”

My eyes fill. “You can’t promise that.”

“No.” The answer hurts. Ryan doesn’t soften it. He just pulls me closer. “I can’t promise you when.” His mouth presses against my forehead. “I can promise I won’t stop.”

And somehow, tonight, that’s both nowhere near enough and the only thing I believe.

By Monday morning, I have developed a new appreciation for the phrase sleep is for the weak. Mostly because I’m weak as fuck.

Three hours. Maybe. Ally climbed back through her bedroom window sometime after two, flashed her light twice so I knew she was inside, and then I spent the rest of the night staring at my ceiling while my brain thoughtfully replayed every detail she’d given me about yesterday. Victor’s hand on her knee. Victor kissing her. Victor discussing the children she would give him while my child was already inside her. Roman dragging her into a coat closet. The fingerprints around her arm.

I told him it hurt. He said he knew.

There are some sentences a person should never hear about the woman he loves. That one is going to live in my head forever.

So by seven thirty, I’ve showered, run until my lungs hurt, and arrived at Edgewood with enough caffeine in my bloodstream to make my heart an unreliable narrator.

X is already here, because Xander considers anything after sunrise sleeping in. He falls into step beside me outside the senior hall. “You look like shit.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“I’ve been awake since four thirty and somehow you look more tired than I do.”

“Congratulations.”

Across the hall, Kaiden is standing at Cat’s locker while she rearranges books in her bag. Or, more accurately, Cat rearranges books while Kaid leans against the locker beside hers and watches her like he’s forgotten Edgewood contains other people. Danny appears from the stairwell a second later. Becca is with him. They’re arguing.

I know because Becca’s hands are moving. “That is not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“I said you’re being dramatic.”

“You said I’m a dramatic bitch.”

“You are.”

Danny considers that. “Fair.”