A Werewolf, A Vampire, and A Fae Walk Into A Bar (Book 1 of The Last Witch Series)

Chapter 4



"You know we just want you to be happy," he says, glancing at the three strangers nursing their drinks.

"I know... but guys are too much work, and I'm all full up with work at the moment." I glance at my protruding stomach and the bar that is now my full-time job since my grandfather died and my grandmother was put in a home.- Guys are the very last thing on my mind.

Especially since my grandfather ran this place into the red when my grandmother was no longer around to keep the books. Now I've got to salvage my family legacy if I have half a chance of supporting myself and my baby and keeping a roof over our heads. Joe finishes up everyone's drinks that were left on the bar, and I check the time. 11:14 p.m.

"Okay, guys, wrap it up," I say as I wipe down all the tables, hobbling through the pub like that girl in Willy Wonka who eats the wrong candy and inflates into a ball. Most of the dishes are already washed, and I'm half tempted to leave the rest for the morning. Joe stands and wobbles to the door, grabbing his coat from the rack. "I hate leaving ya like this, Bern. Want me to stay? I could sleep in one of the booths."

I yawn, suddenly feeling the weight of the day bear down on me. "Nah, I'm good. Get home before you can't."

"What about your Partner in Crime? Can she come?" he asks.

"Joe, I'm fine. AJ will be helping out with the bar and everything else nonstop once the baby arrives. I don't want to bother her till then. You know how things are there."

Joe shakes his head, and I know what he's thinking. AJ was my best friend growing up, but she never left town like I did. She married her high school boyfriend, a guy none of us like. But...we can't live her life for her. That's something she's got to figure out. "Go on now. It's getting worse out there."

Finally, Joe nods, casting one last glance at the silent strangers, and leaves.

I want to go to bed, to get off my feet and zone out to Netflix, but I know if I leave the bar a mess, my future self won't be happy with me.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Begrudgingly, I grab a broom and start sweeping, but before I can get even half the job done, another contraction grips my belly, and for the first time tonight real fear worms its way into my heart.

It's easy to stay out of my head when I'm busy working, but in the silence of the night, I start to question all of my life choices.

Especially the one that landed me knocked up and single just as I was about to live my dream.

Tears burn my eyes as I take a seat on the piano bench, my hands cupping my belly, and I remind myself it wouldn't have mattered. Pregnant or not, my grandfather would still be dead, and I would still be the only Morgan left to carry on our family business. There was no choice then, and there's no choice now. I can do this. I have to do this. It's no longer just my life on the line anymore.

I smile through my tears as my baby kicks out, already asserting her right to be here in my life.

Through gritted teeth and with steely determination, I stand and keep cleaning, though I have to stop regularly to let the contractions pass.

I'm still telling myself it's not the real deal when I feel a gush of liquid run down my legs.

Shit.

My water broke.

I'm having this baby. Right here. In the middle of the night. In the middle of a storm.

"Guys, um... I don't suppose any of you is a doctor?"

Instead of a hospital with an OBGYN, I'm stuck in my bar with three strangers, and I'm definitely going into labor.

I can no longer stand, so I slide to the floor, clutching my stomach, not sure what I'm going to do now. How can I have a baby alone? They don't

teach this in the pregnancy books.

I can no longer keep my pain in, and as my muscles squeeze and my back spasms, I scream.

I fleetingly wonder if I can make it

upstairs to my apartment. I coulet

run a bath, get undressed, and give birthin the water. That wouldn't be too hard, would it?

Knowing I absolutely cannot do this on the floor of a bar, I attempt to pull myself up, but lose my grip and slide back down as my contractions quicken.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Terror latches onto me but I grit my teeth and wipe away the tears. I will do this. If not for me, for my child.

When the men all walk over to me, I

suddenly fee terror of another sort. I have no idea who these guys are, and I'm completely vulnerable. I

curse

e myself for kicking Joe out, but

what would an old drunk dist

these guys, who look made of pure muscles?

"In point of fact," Sexy #2 says. "I'm a healer. A doctor, if you like."

A doctor if I like. What the blazes does that mean?

"Have you ever delivered a baby?" I ask.

He nods. "Many."

"Good, cuz you're about to deliver mine."


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