I chuckled and pulled back, moving my hands to her belly and spanning it with both palms.
She covered my hands with her own and pressed down a bit harder.
“He doesn’t like it when his space is invaded,” she whispered.
“I guessed that,” I mused, feeling a bit of awe overtake me as the baby that Beckham and I had made together went on a tumbling trip beneath our hands.
One particular bump had me blinking in surprise.
“I think he just flipped over all the way,” she said. “That was a knee, and then a head.”
I pressed around to see if I could tell how the baby was oriented.
“You can press harder,” she said as she moved her hands away from mine. “It doesn’t hurt him or me.”
So I did, touching and prodding and ultimately pissing my kid off even more.
“I like that.” I grinned wildly.
She leaned forward and threw her hands around my neck.
“I’ve missed you like crazy, Trouper,” she whispered. “I…” She blew out a breath. “I don’t want this to ever stop.”
But, ultimately, it would have to stop.
I had no idea how long we’d been in here, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long until the guards came back and escorted me back to my cell.
“Fifteen more years of this,” I said sadly.
I didn’t regret what I’d done, though.
Not at all.
Maybe I should. Maybe I should feel bad about beating the shit out of a man that had been the catalyst to my wife being kidnapped from our home, taken to a house that had eight men in it hell bent on hurting my wife, and then left her there to die. All because he’d wanted his fiancée back.
And, honestly, I might not have blamed him for his actions had it not been my wife that had suffered at his hands.
A loud pounding on the door had me sighing.
“You have a half an hour left!” the guard bellowed through the door.
Then Beckham was gesturing toward the door.
“I guess you better get cleaned up. I wanted to show you some photos, get you to sign a couple papers, and talk to you about a few things.” She started to crawl out of my lap.
Our combined releases gushed out of her, and it was the single hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“Talk later,” I growled.
Then I took her one last time. This time much harder and faster than the last.
When we were finished and she was getting dressed ten minutes later, I easily slipped back into my clothes.
I picked up the forgotten tube from earlier and grinned when I saw the mold of three of my fingers.
“Here you go,” I said. “Not my cock, but it’s my fingers.”
She took it with a wide grin. “I think that’s even cooler.”
She placed it on the counter, and then her smile was gone all together.
“So, ummm,” she hesitated. “Don’t freak out, but I had to borrow your brother.”
My brows rose.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well.” She wrinkled her nose, “I took him home with me because he was being a sad sac. And, well, I went to the doctor while I was down there, I wanted my mom to see the baby. And, well, things went to hell in a handbasket when my dad assumed that Easton was the baby daddy.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Did your dad recognize him?”
“Nope,” she said. “He was ‘in character’ from our undercover op because he was meeting with someone. And since that investigation is still ongoing, he didn’t realize my father was near until he’d already spoken to the other dude. He used my name, and my dad jumped to conclusions… and now everyone thinks that he’s the baby daddy.”
I dropped my hand from my lap.
“Are you ever going to tell them?” I asked.
Why did the idea of her passing someone off as her husband, someone that wasn’t me and probably way better suited for her, feel like it was ripping a hole straight through my heart? I was the one to tell her to go away and not come back. I was also the person to file divorce papers and send them her way.
“My mom already knows,” she said. “Easton’s not coming back. I’m here for the foreseeable future, and, well… I’ll tell them when you get out.”
“That’s in a really long time,” I hesitated.
“That’s all I’m willing to give them until you’re there to defend yourself,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry. That might make me the ultimate ass, but I just can’t deal with you being gone, their disapproval, the, uh…”
She didn’t have to finish.
She hadn’t had a chance to get over the attack because I hadn’t allowed her that chance.
“Okay, baby,” I said. “I can’t say that I like it, but it’s not like I have a choice. You need to do what makes you sane. And if that’s it, then that’s it.”
She walked toward me and wrapped her arms around my middle.
The baby once again started kicking.
“I love you, Trouper Aoki.”
Emotion burning in my chest, I rasped, “I love you back, Beckham Aoki.”
CHAPTER 18
When she’s had a rough day, give her a rough night.
-Dating tips
TROUP
Two months later
“Wake up, motherfucker,” I heard, then the sound of a baton slamming against the metal bars blocking me in.
My eyes snapped open, and I could do nothing but stare at the concrete ceiling.
“I said wake up!” the bar bang sounded again.
I rolled myself out of the bed, fucking hating the motherfucker, Brydens, that was doing the pounding of the bars, and stared through the brightness at the man with the flashlight that was aimed at my face.
I got up and slipped into my clothes, unsure what the hell was going on.
“Let’s go,” he ordered.
I looked at my roommate’s empty bunk and then moved out.
My roommate had found greener pastures when he’d been released last month, and they hadn’t replaced him.
I was all for that.
It made me supremely happy.
“Hurry up,” Brydens urged. “Don’t got all night.”
He actually did.
The night shift was the easier of the two shifts since all the inmates were in their cells for the night.
I didn’t bother to disagree verbally with him, though.
It was best to just leave Brydens alone.
He wound me through the hallways until we reached where we were supposed to be.
“Have fun,” Brydens snapped as he gave me a good shove in the direction of the Warden Stanley’s office.
“Close the motherfuckin’ door,” Warden Stanley ordered.
I did, unsure whether he was talking to me or Brydens.
Then Warden Stanley gestured toward the couch.
“Got something for you,” he said as he started to do shit on his computer.
I sat, and then gasped when he said, “Your wife is in labor. She all but begged me in the middle of the night to come up here and allow you to connect via webcam.”
I felt a churning assault on my stomach.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Is she okay?”