Kennedy fell asleep soon after we had sex. She was in my arms while I laid awake, thinking about everything that happened today. I didn't want to wake her, she needed her rest.
I watched her as her body gently rose and fell with every breath she took. I couldn't resist, I had to touch her. I tucked some of her stray strands of red hair behind her ears. She had a soft smile grazing her face as she slept and I wondered what she was thinking about. She was beautiful...the kind of woman who was reliable and smart and would make a good mother. I knew my child was going to be lucky to have her as a mom.
Slowly, as quietly as possible; I slid my arm from underneath her head. She moved and then turned around, clutching one of her pillows now. I got off the bed and put on my jeans. Kennedy was lucky that she could just fall asleep. I had too much on my mind to even shut my eyes. I needed to figure out all this shit first.
I needed a drink.
In her kitchen I found that nearly-empty bottle of whisky. She hadn't touched it since that night four weeks ago. I took the bottle to the living room and poured some of it down my throat.
It was late evening now and dark. I walked over to the window, enjoying the way the whisky burned my throat. There wasn't much to look at outside. Kennedy lived in an ordinary neighborhood. I would have to fix that too, I thought.
I couldn't wrap my head around it still. I was going to be a father. Kennedy was going to be the mother of my child.
In the first few moments when she revealed the news to me, I didn't want to believe her. I hoped that if I refused to listen to more, then it would go away. How was I supposed to look after a child, when my own life was constantly in danger?
But I had to do something. I couldn't just leave Kennedy alone and shirk all responsibility of looking after our baby.
I knew she needed me. Any mother would, and I wasn't about to turn my back on her now. We still didn't really know each other; we had spent more time apart than together, but the one thing I couldn't deny was that I had feelings for her.
The past four weeks apart had been hell for me. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I couldn't stop wondering what she was doing, if she'd moved on and if I'd ever see her again.
I wasn't sure how she felt. Maybe the only reason she'd come to talk to me was because she wanted me to know about the pregnancy? Maybe it had nothing to do with how she felt about me. Maybe other than a basic sexual chemistry, there was nothing else between us.
I drank some more of the whisky.
Whatever her feelings for me were, the reality was that now we were together. We were going to have a baby, which meant that I had a role to play in her life.
How was I going to manage that? While keeping her and the baby safe at the same time?
Images of our dead accountant floated up in my head. I remembered the note that was found on him. They were coming after us. All the people my father had offended and mistreated, all the shit he'd got our family involved in over the years—was eventually going to come to bite our ass.
People were looking for vengeance against the Rossi family.
Now, with Kennedy and the expectant baby in my life—I had a liability. This was going to give our enemies one more thing to come after.
I couldn't tell anybody. Nobody should find out about Kennedy or the baby. Not even my father.
As long as I could keep them a secret, maybe I could keep them safe. But how?
How could they have a remotely normal life, if I was keeping them hidden from the world? What kind of joy or happiness would my child have if I was constantly watching it? If I didn't allow it to lead a life of its own?
I needed more alcohol, but the whisky bottle was empty. Shaking my head, I threw it in the bin in the kitchen.
I checked in on Kennedy again. She was fast asleep. I was itching to do something, to get drunk, to talk about what was going on.
But I couldn't talk to anybody, not even Kennedy.
I pulled out my phone and dialed my father's number. He answered on the third ring.
"Where are you?" he asked, as usual.
"I need to talk to you. Right now!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.
"What is it now?" he asked and sounded bored already.
"Meet me at Maverick. I'll bring the cigars," I said and ended the call. I knew he wouldn't say no to that offer. Maverick was his favorite joint, the place they treated my father like royalty. Behind the bar, in his own private room—we could smoke our cigars and hopefully have an adult logical conversation.
I went back to the bedroom to put on the rest of my clothes. I watched Kennedy sleeping for a few moments before I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
I texted her.
I had to go. Finish up at work. I'll see you soon
Then I was out of the door. Rushing down to my car so I could drive to the bar.
I didn't know what I was going to say to my father. All I knew was that I needed to fix things with him. That was the only way I could keep Kennedy and the baby safe.