Shadow: Cerberus MC Book 3 (8 page)

“Hopefully, she hasn’t taken them all already,” he says softly, referring to the meds he’s certain the hospital would have given her.

I want to correct him. The last thing Misty would do is abuse fucking prescription medication. I stop myself, because at the end of the day, what do I really know about her?

He can see the anger in my eyes at his suspicion. “Just keep an eye on those. She can have one every four hours.” He slaps me on the back and walks to Kincaid, who is still hovering in the doorway.

I pocket the bottle of pills. A tiny whimper pulls my eyes away from Misty. I look over and see Emmalyn with the baby. I don’t even know his name. I feel like an asshole for not asking, but this situation is kind of fucked up. The math is right. I know it’s a possibility that he’s mine, but I just can’t wrap my head around the whole thing.

Misty isn’t a whore on any level. She told me when we were together after the reception that she hadn’t been with anyone since the last time we were together, months before. I believed her then, and I have no reason to think she’s lying now.

“Motherfucker,” I say getting lost in my head again.

I realize I’m just staring at him.

“Take him,” Em says shifting him slightly away from her body.

I hold my hands up, unsure of what to do. I have no baby experience. I’m certain if I touch him, I’ll break him somehow.

“I have to make his bottle,” she says with more insistence.

She cradles him in my arms, and I hold him close to me.

“I’ll be right back,” she says and leaves me in the room alone with him.

I slowly make my way to the armchair in the corner and sit down with him, terrified to be left responsible for such a delicate thing.

My eyes flutter open, taking in the unfamiliar room. They widen even further when I remember the events leading up to now. I try to sit up in bed and wince at the pain in my stomach.

“Oh God,” I groan reaching out and holding my stomach. I see an IV taped to the back of my hand, which confuses me. This is definitely not a hospital room.

I try to sit up again by rolling to my side. I see Shadow sitting in a chair in the corner holding Griffin in his arms. I’d laugh at the desperate look on his face, but the baby is fussing, and there’s nothing funny about that.

He notices my movement and raises his eyes from our son to me.

“He won’t eat,” he says quietly.

“He needs to nurse. He’s never had a bottle before,” I explain.

He pulls the bottle from in front of Griffin’s face and sets it gently on the floor beside the chair. Standing slowly as if he’s holding the crowned jewels in his arms, he makes his way across the room to me. I manage to get in somewhat of a sitting position and hold my arms out to him.

Hesitantly, I lift my t-shirt and lower my bra, lifting the baby to my breast. I use his small blanket to cover myself, unsure of how Shadow will respond to the nursing. When I look up again, all I see is Shadow’s back as he leaves the room.

Tears of distress roll down my face. My only solace is this tiny baby in my arms. He didn’t take the news very well, and I have no idea how things are going to go from here.

Just as Griffin is finishing up nursing on one side, Shadow comes back into the room holding a blue cloth. Without a word, he reaches for the covers near my waist.

“What are you doing?” I ask slapping at his hand.

“Don’t,” he says harshly. “The doctor gave you pain meds in your IV, but he also said a warm compress will take some of the pain away.”

I remove my hand, and begrudgingly allow him to place the warm, cloth-covered compress against my stomach.

“Thank you,” I say because I really am grateful.

I watch him as he backs away and sits back in the chair. He places his elbows on his knees and brings his steepled fingers to his lips. I have a ton of explaining to do, but I’m not even sure where to start. The last thing I want is another yelling match like we had before. Well, him yelling and me crying.

“What’s his name?” he asks with a hoarse, almost pained, voice.

“Griffin,” I answer.

I look over at him, seeing him nod his head in what I hope is approval, but his face betrays his still lingering anger. I wonder if he’s upset about me being here, getting pregnant altogether, or he’s angry I didn’t tell him. I don’t know if he would’ve wanted to be involved. Hell, for all I know he would’ve sided with my parents and tried to force my hand for an abortion.

Just like the last couple of times I’ve nursed him, he’s passed smooth out halfway through the second breast. I lay him gently on the bed and look back over at Shadow.

“I need to use the restroom,” I say quietly.

He just stares at me, unresponsive.

I hold up the hand with the IV connected.

He crosses the room swiftly and doesn’t say a word as he does something to the IV tubing, freeing my hand, and leaving part of the IV in the back of my hand.

I place my feet on the floor, and he helps me to stand. He wraps his arms around my back to help me walk to the bathroom.

“I got it,” I say stepping out of his hold. I hate leaving the warmth of his arms, but I’m pretty certain he hates me right now. Him touching me out of obligation is the last thing I need.

He steps back and sighs loudly. I quickly make my way into the bathroom, but I already know the mess I’m fixing to have to deal with. Extreme, heavy bleeding is the last thing you think about when you first get pregnant, but it’s a reality every woman faces after birth.

I have no idea how long I was out, but I’m a mess. Could this day get any worse?

I do the only thing that feels right; I hang my head into my open palms and weep. I’m covered in blood clear down to my knees, and I know by looking at my clothes, the bed sheets will be ruined as well. I guess I can consider myself lucky that they’re black and won’t show the stains once washed.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Shadow say as the door slowly opens. “Are you okay?”

I don’t even lift my head. “No,” I answer with a sob.

“Holy fuck,” I hear him gasp. “I’m calling an ambulance!”

“Why!” I yell after him as he turns to leave the room.

“You’re hemorrhaging,” he says as if I’m an idiot pointing to my ruined clothes.

“I’m not,” I assure him. “This is normal. I was just lying down for too long.”

He shakes his head, eyes still focused on the blood. “I’ve seen men die in war with less blood loss than that.”

I can’t help but release an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine.”

I put my head back in my hands. I’m not prepared for this. I have a small bag for Griffin with diapers and few changes of clothes, but I didn’t even remember to stop by the store and get supplies for myself before leaving the hotel room this morning. Not only do I show up on his doorstep with the surprise news that he has a son, but I show up completely helpless and then pass out in his living room. I’m the epitome of pitiful.

“I just need a pad.” I don’t even look up at him, completely embarrassed over this entire situation.

“Get in the shower, Misty,” he says from the doorway.

I make to stand from the toilet but have to realign my legs and try again. He reaches for me, offering to help me up.

I swat his hand away.

“The doctor said to use these,” he says pointing to some packaged cloths on the counter. “They’re sterile towels. He said to make sure you use them to dry your incision very well.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say finally able to stand. I begin stripping out of my clothes, unconcerned at this point what he sees. I don’t have the patience or energy for modesty right now.

“You obviously haven’t been,” he sneers just inside of the doorway. “You have more than just your damn self to worry about now.”

He may be angry, but at least he closes the door softly behind him, mindful that the baby is asleep in the adjoining room. Thinking about Griffin, I walk to the door and open it, leaving it cracked so I can hear in case he wakes up and begins to cry.

I climb in the shower and sigh at the heavenly feel of the hot water as it runs down my skin. I try to ignore the pink tinge to the water as I scrub the blood away from my legs. Several times during my rather long time in the shower, I poke my head out to make sure Griffin isn’t crying.

Once again I feel like a bad mother for taking such a long soothing time, but the warm water feels great on my tired body. I step out of the shower and begin to dry off. I notice a folded change of clothes with a few panty liners sitting on top. My soiled clothes are nowhere to be seen.

I unfold the clothes and notice what has to be a pair of Shadow’s sweats, a t-shirt, and a pair of black boxer briefs. Not the most ideal thing to attach the tiny panty liner to, but I can’t be picky. It has to be better than a pair of panties from that woman I saw sitting on the heavily tattooed guy’s lap when I first showed up. I’m not one to judge, but I’ve read a few books, and I know the chicks that hang around the MC clubhouses aren’t very picky.

I towel dry my hair and use the comb sitting on the counter to get most of the knots out of it. Feeling almost human again, I walk back out into the room, stopping dead in my tracks when I see three women in the room with my son.

I can take care of myself.

That simple sentence spoken any other day would more than likely fill me with a sense of pride. Coming from Misty’s mouth just hours after showing up, dropping a bomb on my world, and then passing out just seriously pisses me off. What if she wasn’t here when her body gave out? What would happen if she was in some shitty hotel, or in the back of that taxi? I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to her or Griffin if that happened.

I grab a change of clothes for her to throw on after her shower and trash her other clothes. Then I leave her to her shower and head out to find Emmalyn. The shit Misty is dealing with right now is more than I can handle. Before leaving the room, I take a quick look at Griffin; he’s sleeping soundly wrapped up tight in what I assume is the hospital blanket she was given when he was born.

She brought nothing with her. From what I can tell, the small diaper bag and the baby is all she has. It’s possible she has a hotel room nearby, but from the look of her when she showed up, she was wearing everything she owns. I’ll insist she tell me later exactly how she ended up here. When we were last together, she had a job and was finishing up college.

Emmalyn is standing in the kitchen with Rose and Khloe when I walk in. They immediately go silent when I enter, so I know they were discussing the last couple of hours.

“Hey, Em?” I run a hand over my tired face. I was ready to go to bed before Misty showed up out of the blue, and the last several hours have diminished any energy I have left. I know I still need to speak with Kincaid, something I’m not really looking forward to.

“Yeah?” she says walking closer to me.

“Misty needs some tampons or something.” Why does speaking with a woman about feminine products just make my skin crawl?

“Shadow, I don’t think you can use tampons after having a baby,” she informs me.

“Well, she needs something… for all the blood... you know?”

She gives me a sympathetic smile and pats me on the back. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.” One simple word, but not nearly enough for what she’s done for me so far today.

“Shadow?” Em says as I begin to leave the room.

I turn my attention back to her.

“Diego is in the garage. I know he wanted to speak with you.” She heads out with the other two women following close behind her.

I stop in the living room, needing to do one final thing before getting my ass handed to me by the club President.

I pull out my phone and call the doctor.

“Davison,” he answers in a gruff voice.

“Hey, it’s Shadow. I know it’s late, but I was hoping you were planning on coming by tomorrow to check on Misty.”

“Actually, I was going to stop back by in just a bit,” he says.

“I was hoping you’d know someone who could look at the baby and make sure everything is okay with him.” I sit on the sofa, just too exhausted to keep standing.