[Ravage MC 03.75] - Rattle Me by Ryan Michele Page A

remember what the doc said?” I huff. “Please move. I want to go home.”
    “It’s not what you think, Angel. Don’t fucking go home and start having all that shit run through your head. I’m not fucking that woman.” I say nothing, just stand there waiting for him to move. “Are you listening to me?” he forges on, gripping my shoulders and pulling me against him. “I. Did. Not. Fuck. Her. I swear it. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”
    I look into his eyes and inside the anger, which I don’t understand, is the truth. “I know,” I whisper. “I just want to go home and sleep. I feel really tired all of the sudden.”
    “Your ass had better be home when I get there. Don’t you fucking think of taking off on me.” Pain is evident in his eyes and I know he’s remembering before. I wouldn’t do that to him. Not now, not ever again. I’ll let him explain.
    “I’ll be there.” He bends down, kissing me on the lips, and part of me wants to cry. Didn’t he just kiss that other woman on the head with those same lips? He releases me, but I don’t look up at him. I sidestep him and gather my things, heading to my car. I don’t look back; I don’t look anyone in the eye. I keep my head down as I move. I just want to go home.
    In the car on the drive home, I allow the tears to rain down my face. Even if he didn’t sleep with her, something is going on there that he is trying to hide. My gut tells me to trust him, but my battered heart aches.
    Parking the car, I rush into the house and strip out of my clothes, deciding on a shower instead of a bath. I crawl into bed after putting on comfy jammies and allow my tears to fall, finally drifting off to sleep.

 
     
     
    I awake with a start, jolting out of bed. Sitting up, I take in my surroundings and relax. For some reason, my mind wanted me to be at the cemetery. Damn dreams. I shake my head and move to the bathroom, walking quickly so I don’t piss my pants. I swear I’m peeing every five minutes lately.
    I listen to sounds in the house as I move, but don’t hear anything. GT must not be home yet. Good. I’m still not ready to hear his explanation. If the roles were reversed, he would have stormed up and kicked the guy’s ass. Maybe that’s what I should have done. Who am I kidding? Being pregnant, I would never risk my baby for some piece of shit club momma.
    I pull down my pants and gasp, my insides freeze and time stands completely still. Blood. Bright-red thick blood coats my underwear. My hands shake along with my legs; tears cascade down my face. No. No.
    This cannot be happening again. I pull my pants and underwear off, throwing them onto the floor and hearing them hit the tile.
    I grab toilet paper and quickly clean myself up. The blood disappears from my skin, but when I wipe, it’s still there. I rush to my phone, fumbling through the door of the bathroom. I grab my purse from the chair by the bed and search through it quickly. My hands shake but I brush it off. I need to help my baby; fear is not standing in my way.
    I dial the doctor’s number and within five minutes I am speaking with her on the phone.
    “Casey, the nurse said you have some bleeding?”
    My heart races and my hands are so damn slippery it’s hard to hold the phone, but I grip it hard, not wanting to lose this connection. “Yes. I woke up from a nap and blood was everywhere.”
    “When you put toilet tissue on your vagina is there more blood?”
    I do it again quickly to see if it’s stopped. Damn. “Ye-yes,” I get out but my voice is losing its strength. I will be strong. My baby needs me.
    “Is anyone home with you?” The doctor’s concern comes though the phone, upping my anxiety to catastrophic levels.
    “No.” My hand shakes and I grip the phone tight, trying not to drop it.
    “I do not want you driving. Call someone and meet me at the hospital. If you can’t find someone or they can’t get to you in ten minutes, you call an ambulance and meet me