Chapter 20 Quincy sighs and weirdly raises a foot, stretching it from side-to-side and front to back. "Everything okay?" I ask, squinting. "Yeah, I think my feet are swollen, but it's normal." Releasing her wrist, I plant a hand on King and shimmy to the side, making room on the long end of the couch. "Here. I'll even share my pillow with you." She places the bottle of water on the floor and climbs onto the edge of the cushion, wiggling around. She gives up trying to get comfortable on her back and turns to face me. Her pregnant belly has to add six to eight inches to her profile, so even though it's an oversized cushion, it's still a tight fit. I scoot back to give her more space and end up half on the arm of the couch. Giving up on that, I turn fully on my side too. King grunts, showing his displeasure as he slides down my chest. He lands with most of his chubby ass wedged on me with a little on the couch. His side presses against Quincy's stomach, and I frown. "Is he too heavy?" He'll be pissed if I move him to the floor, but he'll live. "No, he's fine." Quincy laughs, reaching over to run her hand down his back. "Sorry to disrupt your snuggle-fest." Her smile threatens to steal all the breath from my lungs. She's just as beautiful as I remember. Her face is a little fuller, as is her chest, but I figure that's a side effect of baking a human being. I barely got to feel around the belly earlier, and I want more time spent with my hand planted on her stomach. I'm sure the baby is big enough that I would be able to feel it moving, and I want to experience that as much as possible before she delivers. "That morning I woke up..." She sighs, shoving her hair away from her face. "I wasn't supposed to be gone all night. Donna, my grandmother's care nurse, was doing me a favor by staying with her. I panicked, climbed out of bed, and went to find a pen to leave you my number. Only I had a bunch of calls and texts from Donna, then she called again while I was digging for something to write with. It sounds so bad, but my brain just kinda shut down. I had a bad feeling, and I walked out into the hall to answer the call." Her eyes fall shut, and she grimaces. "I could lie and say I tried to get back into the room afterward, since most hotel doors lock after you, but honestly, I was dazed and only focused on getting home. I found out once I did that my grandma passed away that night." Her eyes meet mine as they pop open, and I start to feel like a real dick. "I'm sorry about your grandma. Did you try to look for me once you found out about the baby?" I ask, and I don't know why it even matters. It's not like she would have found anything if she had. What Leo and Shaw beat into my head is true. Even if she looked for me, she would have been up against Calder and his team's tech skills. Easton keeps them on the payroll for a reason. She never had a chance. Not unless she would have woken me up to ask me to go with her. If she had, I would have. Then when Easton called, I would have told him to fuck off. So many things would have been different if she had just woken me up. "I did. I think I might have reached Trigg-levels," she says, going on to describe how she went back to the bar and the hotel so many times they banned her from the hotel premises. "I mean, if you need an inventory of anyone in Burlington named Ridge, I have a list. I even moved on to anyone with Ridge as part of their last name. I might have spent a month making sure to get eyes on each one to be sure it wasn't you." I bark a laugh. "You did a little stalking of your own." "Yeah, I really did." And I let myself be sent off from job to job, always telling myself that I'd find her when I made it back to Vermont. "Shit, Quincy, I'm sorry. This isn't all on you," I admit. "As my friends so poignantly drilled into my head, I would have had a much easier time finding you than vice versa." "Did you look for me at all?" she asks, her voice small, almost like she doesn't really want to know. "I intended to," I say, grimacing. "Only my boss sent me to Vegas that same day, and I kept thinking I'd dig around for you when I got back. But then the next job came up before I even got back home, and that happened over and over again. I should have put my foot down months ago." "That's tough," she says, focusing on King. "I bet it's hard being away from him." I think this would be easier to handle if she just called me a hypocrite for not being out knocking on doors to track her down. Her disappearing that morning hurt my feelings, and my pride fucked me over real good. "It is, but Knox stays here when I'm out of town, and King has his own dog sitter who comes twice a day to take him for walks." Why am I still going on about my dog? "It bothered me when I woke up and you were gone. I thought we had a connection." "We did," she says, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. "I felt safe with you. I know it doesn't mean much now, but before I even found out about the baby, I was hoping I would see you again." "Did you find out the gender?" "I did, but if you want to be surprised, I can keep it to myself." She frowns. "I'll ask Hart and Trigg to do the same." I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from growling. It really irks me that they both know, and I don't. Dammit. I can hold a grudge like nobody else, but I have to figure out how to let go of this resentment. If I can't, it'll destroy any chance I have of building a life with Quincy. What Leo said was like a punch to the gut. I don't want to only get to see the kid half the time or, even worse, only on birthdays and holidays and a month during summer break. I don't want Hartley fucking Adams there filling the role I'm supposed to be filling. I got lucky with stepdads that love me, so I shouldn't shit on anyone who steps up and takes care of a kid that isn't biologically their own, and I'm not. It's just hard to imagine him there in the baby's day-to-day life while I'm out on contract after contract. Although, if it comes down to it, Hartley is a much more viable option for a packmate than Trigg. "I want to know." My hand pulls from under hers as it rests on King's back, and I bring it to her stomach like I have the right. "A girl," she says, and my heart stutters. Jesus. A girl. Hopefully she looks just like Quincy, because I'm an ugly motherfucker. She can only take after her mother... But if she does, I'm never going to be able to sleep again. At least, not once she starts dating. Fuck me. It couldn't have been a boy first? At least then, I wouldn't have to worry about ending up in prison once any little fuckers come nosing around. I could leave the boyfriend tormenting up to him and not even end up being the bad guy. It's what my dads did with me. They didn't even have to spell it out, and I knew what my job was. Not to mention, boys are safer than girls in our world. That won't matter. I'll be around to keep both Quincy and the baby safe. I'm going to need to buy stock in a tracker company. That way, I'll always know where they are. Fuck, maybe Trigg's obsessive ass wouldn't make for a bad packmate, after all. "Are you okay?" Quincy asks, laughing. "You're normally pretty tan, but all the color just drained from your face." "I have four younger sisters," I admit, running my hand over her stomach. "That must have been a wild ride, growing up with such a full house." "It was." I also remember how much hell they gave my mom. "When is your next doctor's appointment? I want to go with you." "The day after tomorrow." Her adorable nose scrunches. "Actually, it has to be after midnight, so not today but tomorrow. And you're more than welcome to come. Will leaving the house be a problem? I know you and Trigg mentioned someone is after you?" "We won't let anything happen to you or the baby," I say, really regretting letting her in on the Costa Maloney threat. The last thing she needs is additional stress, but lying isn't going to do shit to build trust between us. "Right, but you do private security..." That pert nose of hers wrinkles again. "Why would anyone want to harm you for that? Or did I misunderstand why I'm here in the first place?" Fuck. The burning in my gut must mean I've developed an ulcer at some point between this afternoon and tonight. No idea if it's physically possible to have it progress that quickly, but my stomach is fucked. No matter how I try to spin it, I'm going to have to take one of two paths. I can either sugarcoat my job to the point of lying, or I can be up front and leave out the grisly details, which I would never tell someone like Quincy, anyway. "Have you ever heard of off-the-books military contracts?" I ask. "I guess. Maybe on one of those conspiracy theory documentaries or something." "They're not conspiracy theories. The CIA isn't supposed to work on American soil..." I mean, it's pretty much an open secret at this point that it does, but they have to be sneaky about how and when they act. "The FBI has laws and fail-safes that limit what it can do, but private companies do not." "Okay." The look on her face says she has no idea what I'm getting at. "That's a portion of our jobs. Other contracts are for disposing of human garbage that has no right being around the general public. The last is security contracts for high-profile businessmen or even politicians. That includes domestic and international kidnapping retrieval services." Maybe if I sneak in that whole disposing of people between two that don't sound awful, she'll miss it. "Why would someone need to hire your company to retrieve a kidnapped person here in the States? Wouldn't the police handle that?" Shit. That is a valid question for someone who doesn't understand how it goes. "If someone high profile gets kidnapped, and the family wants to keep it off the news, they call us. Sometimes clients want a team outside of law enforcement because they have laws they're legally required to follow, and we do not." Okay, technically everyone has laws they're supposed to abide by, but if you call in someone like Shadow Security, you know what you're asking for. She hums. "That doesn't make much sense to me. You would think the police would have more leeway than a private company, but I think I understand what you're trying to hint at." "Look, it sounds worse than it is," I say, hoping my words are true. "There is a lot of trash out there, and sometimes it's hard to get to them if you're following legal channels and all the laws, because they sure don't." "Gotcha." "Okay," I say, trying to think of a way to put it. "You met Shaw. Leo was here, too, but he stayed outside. That's mostly irrelevant. I'm only mentioning it so you know who I'm talking about. They used to do private security for Senator Callahan. They were assigned to his daughter for a few years, but another team took over for them." I sigh. "There's a lot of backstory that won't make much sense to you, and most of it isn't relevant to what happened in Amsterdam. Saylor was on a trip with a friend from college when she was kidnapped. That's where I was for most of November and into the beginning of December. They took her to Germany, and it was up to the three of us to get her back. We're occasionally on the wrong side of the law, but the work we do is morally sound." Usually, I add silently to myself. "Is she okay?" Quincy asks, studying my face. "She's hanging in there as well as can be expected." I shrug. "That's the kind of thing that can come back to haunt you even years later. One minute, you're fine, then the next, you've got flashbacks or nightmares." "I'm glad you guys were able to rescue her." "Leo and Shaw did most of the heavy lifting," I admit. "I was just there to watch their backs." Teasing over Quincy's stomach, I pause when something moves under my palm. It's faint at first, almost like a heartbeat, but it happens again, this time even stronger. "Is that..." "Yeah." She grabs my hand, moving it between her stomach and the couch cushion. "It's really strong over here." My pulse picks up to the point I can feel it in my ears. She's not wrong. The movements are a lot more powerful here. "That's insane," I whisper, my eyes aching. Do not burst into tears. Don't you dare do it. You'll get all snotty and embarrass yourself. She'll think you're a drunk or crazier than Trigg and run away. "Have you picked a name?" I ask around the lump in my throat. The way her lips tip up only makes my blood pump faster. I'm going to have to start eating healthier. I've lived off fast food for the last year or so. My heart is working overtime here. I should probably take better care of it in the future. "I have a few that I like, but I'm open to compromising." She grins mischievously. "As long as you don't have terrible taste in naming children." I laugh. "I'll do my best." Quincy pulls her hand to my cheek, brushing her fingers over my beard. "You're very handsome when you smile. I hope she gets your eyes. Can I ask why you wear your glasses so often?" I've got them off now, but that's because I'm at home. I could play it off like it's to prevent UV damage. My ophthalmologist told me I'm at a higher risk for cataracts, but that's a cop-out. "My eyes." I pull my hand off her stomach to gesture at my face. "They make it nearly impossible to blend in. Having my glasses on is conspicuous, but strangely, people are less likely to remember me if they're on versus if they see my eyes. The color gives me away even more than my height." "Huh, that is weird," she says. "Damn, my mouth is dry, and I already have to pee again." I chuckle. King grunts, getting even more wedged between us as I stretch over Quincy to grab her bottle of water. She takes it and struggles to turn to sit up. I grab King and move him to the end of the cushion. He jumps down, shakes out his coat, and runs off-probably checking if Trigg left any shoes lying around down here that he can piss in. Turning back to the omega, I pull her up enough that she can get a drink without spilling. "Thanks," she whispers. "Everything is embarrassing these days." I laugh. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. It's cute. You're all belly. I bet it's uncomfortable." She twists the cap back onto the bottle. "It's not so bad. At first..." She leans back against the cushion. "The constant nausea during the first trimester was bad. The second trimester was surprisingly easy, but I had the most vivid dreams." Her eyes fall to her lap where the bottle of water now rests between her thighs. "I had dreams where I found you, and you were furious. Others where things went better, and I'd wake up so relieved, only to realize it never actually happened." "Fuck, I'm sorry," I hiss, shaking my head. "Listen, I know this is raw for both of us, but I want to be in the baby's life." Bringing my hand to her chin, I tilt her face to mine. "Your life too. I heard Hartley say you're dating⁠-" "That literally happened yesterday. Today? Whatever." Her pretty blue eyes stare straight into mine like she's trying to will me to believe her. "Fate really does seem to love to fuck me. I believe you." My brows draw together. "Fuck. I didn't mean that how it sounded. Or maybe I did. I'm not used to censoring myself. I'll work on that." "You don't have to do that. I liked you for you that night. I just wish everything that happened since wouldn't have made it so awkward between us." "It's not all that awkward. My boss kidnapped his wife..." I shrug. "Twice, if you believe her account of events. And for her to put up with Easton, let's just say, Stockholm syndrome probably had something to do with it." She laughs a light, airy sound. "I can never tell if you're joking, but based on the way I ended up here, I should probably start taking your words at face value." "Good, do that," I say, scooting down and rolling off the edge of the couch. I walk around to her side to help her off the sofa. "That way you'll believe me when I say I want a second chance at making things work between us." Quincy frowns, taking my outstretched hands. "Aren't you going to ask me for a paternity test? Even my ex asked for one, and there was no chance of him being her father." I pull her up, making sure she doesn't bump into the bottles. "Are you lying?" She has to tilt her head up to see my face due to the height difference. "No." "Any chance your math could be off?" "Also no." I nod. "I've always had an accurate gut instinct. It hasn't led me wrong yet. If you say the baby is mine, I believe you." Look at me...breaking generational curses. My mom will be so proud. After she and my sisters rake me over the coals for not being able to tell them about Quincy and the baby until she's practically ready to deliver. Family really is the gift that keeps giving. It's only a matter of time before they find out, and it's going to be a straight-up battle to keep them from trying to storm my house to meet Quincy.