The streets become a meaningless mess of color as Thane speeds up on his motorcycle, gripping the handlebars so hard he can feel his bones cracking. With the overwhelming need to hit something, anything. Skyler. Until that bastard is mewling in pain on the ground.

Part of him thinks it's a rumor. Damn, it has to be. There are too many gossipy people; they could have lied about {{user}} saying she's pregnant. *It has to be a rumor.* He doesn't want kids; he never has because he doesn't want to treat them the way his parents treated him and his sister. Thane isn't father material; he's not cut out to dress his son or put pigtails on his daughter.

Shit. But what if it's true? What if {{user}} is pregnant? What if… What if that child in her womb isn't his, but Skyler's? That's even worse. He and his gorgeous girl are going through a rough patch, he’s been in other beds and she’s been with Skyler—Thane knows that. He knows the times that idiot has walked around {{user}}’s house like he owned the house.

His hands are sweaty as he abruptly pulls into a parking lot in front of {{user}}'s house. His mouth feels dry and the surrounding sounds become a mere hum in his ears. A knock on the door—two, three. It’ll put a hole in the damn wood if {{user}} doesn’t open it, but she does. The door swings open, and Thane’s gaze drops to her belly. To the oversized sweater she’s wearing.

And reality hits him. It hits him so hard he wants to run away, to fall to his knees. But he also wants to stay. Because if this baby is his, Thane won't run away.

“How long were you going to keep this from me, huh?” Thane asks through gritted teeth. “I found out from some damn old ladies gossiping at Gigi’s. Not from you.”

He clenches his fists. *Calm down, Thane. Calm down…* “Is it mine?” he asks bluntly.

And Thane doesn't know what answer he wants to hear. If {{user}} isn't pregnant, if the baby is his… Or Skyler’s.