He did this. He was the one who walked into my sanctuary and gave me the first panic attack I’d had in months. He was the one who’d screamed at me.

With the bag over my face, reminding me to take deep breaths, I was able to regulate my breathing faster than I’d ever done before, but it still took a while.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry,” Cody repeated into my hair, dropping the bag from my face to wrap both arms around me.

I was determined to ignore him, too mad and confused to give an inch. But then, quietly and without any warning, his breath hitched in his chest and he moaned quietly, pressing his forehead against my crown.

“Cody?” I whispered.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice low. “Fuck, I missed you. I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I heard footsteps leave the room, and when the door closed quietly and I was sure we were alone, I gently pulled the quilt off our heads.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my breath still unsteady.

“Yeah, just tired. Fuck, I should be asking you that.” He took a deep breath. “I know you don’t wanna go, baby, but we need to head to Eugene. Slider needs surgery and he’s fucking refusing to sign the paperwork before he talks to you.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I know it is—he’s a fucking idiot. But you still have to go, Ladybug. A lot of people are depending on him, and the man’s gonna lose his leg if he doesn’t get that shit taken care of—”

“Okay, I’ll go,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want to hear any more about Slider. I didn’t know if I could handle it. “But I need to get ready first.”

I climbed off his lap, my legs still a bit unsteady, and he reached out to grip my hips. Thank God for the sweatshirt I’d worn to bed last night, hiding the new bulges I was sporting. I hadn’t thought about it when I’d first seen him, too intent on getting as close to him as I could, but as he watched me gathering my clothes to take with me to the bathroom, I prayed that he wouldn’t notice the changes.

This was the absolute last way I wanted him to find out about our child.

“You look good,” he commented, leaning his elbows on his thighs.

“Uh, thanks,” I mumbled back, hurrying toward the door. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes. I’ll go grunge today, so I won’t have to do my hair.”

“Okay, Ladybug,” he said tenderly, his small grin completely at odds with his slumped shoulders. “Go fix your war paint.”

I gave him a small smile before hurrying out of the room.

As soon as I reached the bathroom, I closed the door behind me, locking it for the first time since I’d arrived at Lily’s. I hadn’t worried if one of the old ladies would walk in on me; we were all girls, after all. I wasn’t even sure if the thing worked, but I was afraid if I tested it, I’d look like I had something to hide, so instead I just watched the door nervously the entire time I got ready. Thankfully, I’d packed a flannel shirt and some old baggy jeans in my suitcase, even though I hadn’t planned on wearing them, and by the time I was dressed and ready, my weight gain was pretty well camouflaged. I was ready . . . even if I didn’t feel ready.

Cody didn’t say a word as I kissed Gram and Lily good-bye, and soon, my head was stuffed into a helmet and I was on the back of his bike, riding gingerly down Lily’s bumpy driveway. I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, afraid if I glanced back for even a second, I’d completely lose it.

Things were happening fast, and scenarios raced through my head the entire way home as I tried to keep my body from pressing into Cody’s back. I did a pretty good job of keeping a little space between us, but as we climbed off the bike in the hospital parking lot, my muscles burned in protest. He looked at me oddly as I pulled off my helmet, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I was already bracing myself for my meeting with my father, and I wasn’t doing a very good job of controlling my breathing.

Shit, it wasn’t like he could do anything worse to me, right? I mean, the blowup at the club had been pretty epic and I doubted he could top that, especially laid up in a hospital bed with a bullet in his thigh. As Cody grabbed my hand and led me into the elevator I took a deep breath, praying that I could continue to do so. I just needed to get in and get out, no drama and no panicking.

“You grabbed my quilt, right?” I asked nervously as the doors opened to a hallway full of bikers and their old ladies.

“It’s in my saddlebag,” Cody assured me, squeezing my hand.

My stomach started cramping, and I felt beads of sweat form on the back of my neck as the bikers parted like the Red Sea, forming a clear path to Slider’s hospital room. I felt naked as they stared at me, and tried to pull out my trusty mask, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find the calm facade I’d used as protection for years. What was wrong with me? Oh my God.

No. No. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I lifted my chin as we passed by them, never meeting anyone’s eyes. I was just here to see the sperm donor. I didn’t need their approval. I could do it. I knew I could do it.

In and out; no drama, no panicking. I silently repeated the mantra over and over again as Cody opened the door and guided me inside.

Chapter 32

Farrah

“You came,” Slider rasped from the bed, his voice forcing my eyes from the gray-speckled floor tiles.