Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Roderick had been ripped off.
Someone had stolen the stash of guns he had been dropping off to one of Reign's first clients he ever brought in.
And that someone?
Yeah, it was a fucking woman.
I had a sneaking suspicion that was going to be a good story someday.
Lou - 3 years
"Um no," I all but shouted at the doctor. "Squeeze more of that cold shit on my belly, and try again. You're wrong," I added, watching as the man just smiled at me with thin lips and kind blue eyes.
I didn't want his kindness.
I wanted his accuracy.
Adler reached out, squeezing my hand reassuringly even if his face was a mix of shock and, well, fear.
Fear.
Yes.
That was an appropriate reaction to this news, I felt.
"Mrs. Adler, I have done it twice. There was no need for the second time. I am one-hundred percent certain. Do twins run in your families?"
"No."
"No," I added. "So... try again."
To that, he just turned off the screen, reached for scratchy paper towels, rubbing some of the jelly off my slightly rounded stomach.
Okay.
Maybe it was more than slightly rounded.
But my mother always told me all my face-stuffing would come back to haunt me.
I figured I was being punished for having so many fries and chicken nuggets during my first trimester. And I was going to be one of those women who gained fifty pounds when I was only supposed to gain twenty, have stretch marks that wrapped around my whole body.
It certainly never occurred to me that there could be two human beings growing inside me, making the added weight make more sense.
Hell, we hadn't exactly even talked about having children at all.
We'd talked about children.
As an abstract.
As those things always surrounding us at the compound with endless - and increasingly odd or embarrassing - questions, demanding snacks every fifteen-point-two seconds, and not a half second later or earlier, wanting to play hairdresser - then getting all kinds of knots and combs and curlers snagged up there.
We'd even talked about how we sometimes worried we might not be the best influences for them, being a bit standoffish, not great with understanding how little, underdeveloped brains worked.
And here we were bringing two of them into the world.
We were the definition of clueless.
"Do you want the picture?" the doctor asked, looking at Adler since I was clearly in need of a straitjacket and heavy psychosis meds. Except I couldn't have psychosis meds since I was pregnant.
"Aye," he agreed, taking the grainy black and white ultrasound image, tucking it into my oversized wallet, exchanging words with the doctor for a moment - none of which I heard except I'll give you the room.
"Lou," Adler called, snagging my chin, turning me to face him instead of studying the little holes in the ceiling tiles. "Talk about it, don't just think about it."
"We can't be parents."
"Well, that's unfortunate, because we are about to be in just a couple more months."
"But we can't," I insisted, wide-eyeing him. "Last week, we both decided the eggs were probably bad... but ate them anyway."
"And they were fine."
"But what if they weren't? What if we did that again? What if we kill our babies with slightly outdated eggs?"
"First, I think they'll be on the tits for a while. Second, I will personally check all expiration dates, and keep the eggs always safely within them."
"And the milk. The milk too."
"And the milk. I draw the line at cheese," he told me, lips twitching. "That doesn't go bad."
"It can get mold."
"It is mold. And I don't think ya would feed a kid green molded cheese without realizing."
"And what about my job? I can't exactly chase skips while pregnant! Or with babies hanging off my boobs."
To that, he snorted.
"So you take maternity leave. I think a good... four years should do."
"Ew. I am not going to be some barefoot, pregnant, PTA, van-driving mom, Adler. And I will get out of shape in four years. And Geoff would replace me. And don't you dare say that I can't be replaced. Neither of us believe that touchy-feely bullshit. Oh, and that's another thing. Our mouths."
"I like yer mouth," he informed me, running a finger across my lower lip.
"I meant our language."
"Everyone in the club cusses like sailors. The kids are no worse for the wear," he reminded me.
"We only have one bedroom."
"And it is so impossible to move."
"You heard him! I'm not allowed to lift anything!" I knew I was starting to sound downright hysterical, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Right. But we have an entire club full of able-bodied men and women. What next?"
"Don't make fun of me," I demanded, slapping his stomach half-heartedly. "I'm serious. This is serious."
"I know it is. I'm tryin' to make ya see we can do it."
"And how are we supposed to get a new place? And afford for me to be outta work for four years?"