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Untamed (A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance)(111)

By:Emilia Kincade


“It’s innocent, though. They don’t know better. That’s what separates us.”

“Are you worried about something in particular? I mean, all first-time parents worry. That’s what all the women at school tell me, anyway. Everybody reads the books, wonders how to raise a child. You’ve got to feel through the dark your first time.”

“I wonder if growing up without parents will make me a bad parent,” I say outright. I have a feeling that Dee is going to keep probing, and she’s the type of woman who when she wants something, she gets it eventually.

“You don’t need to have had good parents to become a good parent,” she says. “I’m going to be a good mother, and I can’t even remember Mom. And Dad…”

“Bad parents have to come from somewhere. There’s enough of them around.”

“Don’t be so cynical, Duncan,” she chides. “Come on, let’s change the subject.”

“We can’t get complacent,” I tell her as we walk through the sliding glass doors to the supermarket.

“I know,” she whispers back. “He won’t stop.”

Bright headlights momentarily illuminate us from behind, and I turn over my shoulder, see LED headlights of some expensive car.

The car’s red brake lights are now all I can see, and it drives out of the parking lot. I wonder if I’m starting to get too paranoid.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just… feel like we’re being followed sometimes.”

“You’re as bad as I am.”

I grin at her. Together, we shop, load up a trolley. The fighting money has allowed us to buy better foods, allowed Dee to stick to a healthier diet. For the baby.

I eat the same things she does, pretty-much, though a lot more protein. It helps her stick to it, and eating healthy is something I’d do anyway to keep my body in fighting-form.

But even so, I don’t have access to the facilities, the supplements I used to. Already I can feel that I’m losing some of that razor-sharp edge, that my quick-twitch muscle fibers are less springy than they were.

It’s amazing how quickly the body strives to achieve homeostasis; the tendency to return to a stable, efficient baseline.

I’ve had to adjust my eating, limit my energy intake, since I’m not burning three-thousand calories a day training anymore.

It’s been an adjustment, like everything else.

We do our shop, get Dee a treat that she’s earned, some vegan tofu ice cream. She says she’s had it before, that it’s not as nice as the real thing, but in a pinch as a healthier alternative that is as good as it gets.

We leave, load the car, and even if only for a moment, Glass becomes just a distant worry. We are getting comfortable. We’re settling in to life together.

I always wanted this, a life alone with Dee where we could both be happy, where we could both be, in a way, out from under the shadows of our pasts.

But when I spot a white SUV, I’m only reminded of the Mercedes. The feeling of comfort, this time, is short-lived. I continuously check the rear-view mirror until Dee asks me what’s up.

“Remember a white Mercedes?” I ask her. “Those LED headlights? The really bright ones?”

She shrugs. “Kind of, I guess. It’s familiar, anyway.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding slowly. “I’ve seen that car a couple of times already. I think I saw it tonight.”

Dee tenses up. “Are you sure?”

I grind my teeth together, shake my head. “No, it was dark, and before I got a good look it was driving away.”

“Damn,” she says, looking over her shoulder out of the rear windshield.

“I can’t see if we’re being followed,” I say. “There’s too much traffic on the road.”

“I wondered why you took this route. It’s quicker to go around the park the other way.”

“I wanted to hit a four-way crossing,” I say, slowing down for a red light. But I see a break, gun the engine, and take the turn across traffic. It’s reckless, I know, but it’s one way to be sure.

“Jesus,” Dee says, clutching onto her seat in between her legs. “Tell me you’re going to do that next time!”

“Sorry,” I say to her. “I only just saw the gap.”

She turns around. “No other car followed.”

“Think we left them behind?”

“I don’t know. You really think we’re being tailed?”

“This is your father we’re talking about, right?”

She nods.

“Then it’s possible.”

I drive us back to her apartment, but steal another resident’s parking space, one that’s covered under shelter.