Spike’s Perdition (Saints Purgatory MC #7)

17. Ivory

CHAPTER 17

IVORY

“Back again?”

Aubrey glares at me from behind her computer.

“Yes,” I reply, my tone clipped.

Dr. Wilde is one of the best obstetricians in the area. Yes, I messed up by screwing Spike, but it takes two to tango. He shouldn’t have stepped out on his old lady. I’m not going to quit getting the best care over a man. Aubrey and I only have to see each other here, so she’s just gonna have to learn to deal with it.

“Have a seat,” she says dismissively.

Paula calls me back fifteen minutes later. First stop, the dreaded scale. I step onto it and glare at the numbers as they go up.

Paula giggles when she notices my face. “Don’t worry, this is a perfectly healthy weight gain for someone who’s five months along.”

“You’re not the one who feels like they swallowed a basketball,” I mumble.

For the past few months, no one would’ve known I was pregnant. I wasn’t showing at all. It was great. But it didn’t last. A couple of weeks ago, Peanut decided to make their existence known, and my stomach shot out like a beach ball.

“You know the drill.” Paula hands me a plastic cup.

I do my business and meet her back in the hallway, where she leads me to the ultrasound tech. I decided I wanted to know the sex of the baby so I could prepare the nursery. Today, as long as Peanut cooperates, I’ll know if I’m having a little prince or princess.

The tech greets me with a smile. “Hi, Ivory. My name’s Gina. I’ll be doing your ultrasound today.”

“Hi,” I reply.

She pats the exam table. “Hop up and tuck your shirt under your bra.”

Luckily, the table isn’t too high off the ground because there will definitely not be any hopping. I pull my shirt under my bra and wait for Gina to get situated.

“The gel has been in the warmer,” she explains as she squirts it onto my protruding stomach. “Now, let’s see this baby.”

Gina moves the wand around, taking several different shots from different angles.

“Can you tell the sex?”

“If the baby cooperates, I can,” she replies. “Do you want to know now, or do I need to write it down and put it in an envelope for later?”

“Now, please.”

“Okay, let’s see if the baby is willing to flash us.”

I laugh as she fiddles around. My eyes seek out the screen. The baby’s heart flutters, and one of the arms moves. I glance at the tech to ask her if she can see the gender yet. Her smile is replaced with a frown, and her eyebrows furrow in concentration.

“Is everything okay?”

Her smile slips back into place, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll let Dr. Wilde tell you what the sex is.”

“Okay.” I sit up slowly and take notice that she never answered my question.

Gina leads me to one of the open exam rooms. “Dr. Wilde will be right with you.”

She’s gone before I can respond.

That was weird. She’d tell me if I w a s having twins, right?

No, not possible. I only saw one.

Yeah, like you’re an expert.

I pace around the room while I wait for Dr. Wilde. It’s another twenty minutes when a soft knock startles me.

“Hi, Ivory,” Dr. Wilde greets and points to the chair next to the counter. “Have a seat. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Dr. Wilde’s facial expression is the same as Gina’s. Her smile’s brittle, and her tone is too soft. It’s almost as if she’s approaching a wounded animal. Suddenly, I’m on edge. Anxiety creeps up my spine, goosebumps break out all over my arms, and I break out in a cold sweat.

“What’s going on?” I demand.

Dr. Wilde’s eyes soften as she sits next to me on her stool. “We found an abnormality during your ultrasound.”

“Meaning?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“The baby has a diaphragmatic hernia.”

I grip the arms of the chair. “Omigod.”

I have no idea what that means, but it sounds bad. My breathing becomes shallow, and it’s almost impossible to suck air into my lungs.

“Ivory, I need you to calm down,” Dr. Wilde coaxes. “Deep breaths… in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I follow her instructions until I can breathe normally again. Well, as normally as someone can when they’re told something is wrong with their baby.

“What does that mean?” I ask as soon as I can form words again. “Diaphra… whatever you said.”

“I won’t sugarcoat it for you.” Dr. Wilde spins the computer around and points to the ultrasounds. “Do you see that dark spot there?” I nod. “That’s the hernia. Now, it can be life-threatening, but we caught it. Now we know what we’ll face once the baby is born.”

“It’s treatable?”

“Yes. After he’s born, we’ll place an NG tube to feed him because he won’t be able to eat on his own, and we’ll also give him IV fluids. When he’s a few days old, we will operate to repair the hernia,” she explains. “He may need to be on a ventilator for a couple days after surgery, but we’ll wean him off of it and slowly introduce bottle feeding. Once we know he’s tolerating feeding and not having any issues going to the bathroom, he can be released. It’ll probably be at least a week in the NICU.”

“You’re sure he needs surgery?” My lip quivers. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Dr. Wilde takes my hand. “With any surgery, there are dangers, but this is his best chance. This is treatable.”

I can’t freak out. I need to be strong for him .

Wait… what?

“I’m having a boy?”

Dr. Wilde grins for the first time since she entered the room. “Yes, you are. Congratulations!”

I rub my stomach as tears slip down my cheeks. “A little boy.”

“A little boy,” she confirms. “Everything else looks great. Next time you come in, we’ll test you for gestational diabetes.”

I stand and shake her hand. “You’re sure he’ll be okay?” I ask one last time.

“I promise we will take good care of both of you,” Dr. Wilde responds. “There’s no reason I can see that this won’t be a normal pregnancy.”

She never promised Peanut would be okay, only that she’d take care of both of us. I shudder at the thought of something possibly going wrong with the surgery and Spike never knowing he has a son.

Spike has a right to know he has a son and needs a life-saving operation when he’s born. I can’t be selfish anymore.

Mind made up, I check out and move to stand in front of Aubrey’s computer. “Can you take a quick break? I need to talk to you.”

She startles at my request but agrees to meet me outside.

“What do you want?” Aubrey huffs when she joins me in the parking lot.

I tell her everything that Dr. Wilde told me. “I don’t want to come between you and Spike,” I tack on. “But he has a right to know that he’s going to have a son who will need a major operation when he’s born and how serious the situation is.”

“You fucking liar,” Aubrey sneers. “This is a ploy to get my man.”

“I swear,” I plead, holding up my hands. “I do not want Spike. I just feel he deserves to know.”

“Let me explain something to you, homewrecker.” Aubrey steps toward me, causing me to shuffle back. “Our men don’t fuck around when it comes to their real family. They’ll kill you before they let you ruin Spike’s reputation with your lies.”

“I’m not lying,” I cry. “Dr. Wilde can confirm everything I said.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Her eyes drop to my stomach. “Right now, though, there’s no proof that that baby’s even Spike’s.”

I rear back as if I’ve been slapped. “Spike’s the only man I’ve been with in almost a year.”

“The club will never believe that,” she taunts. “It’ll be your word against an old lady. Who do ya think they’ll believe… a stupid little slut who had a one-night stand or me?” My shoulders slump in defeat. “If you don’t want to end up dead before you give birth, I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut. The next time you even think about talking to Spike, remember this. I have pull with the club, you don’t. One of us will be on the losing end of a bullet, and honey, it sure as hell won’t be me.”

I use my purse to shield my stomach. “Sorry, forget I said anything.”

“We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.” She smirks. “I don’t know you, and you sure as fuck don’t know Spike.”

“Right.” I spin on my heel and run toward my car as her laughter follows me.

I was right, Saints Purgatory is bad news. Very bad news if they’re willing to kill a pregnant woman carrying a member’s baby.

Once I’m behind the wheel, I let the tears flow. I sit for a while before I start the engine.

At least I have Megan and Eric. They’re all we need.