His Queen (18+)

Chapter XLVI

THE EMOTIONAL

I've given
What I have
I showed you
I'm growing

***

CHAPTER XLVI

Warning: mentions of r*pe and s*xual ab*se. Please be sensitive about how you approach these topics in the comments. Any rude or disgusting comments will be removed.

*****

“PABLO, CAN I talk to you?” I asked as I walked into his living room, making him look up from where he sat on his laptop with a book open in front of him. He seemed to have been engrossed in it before I came but now, he closed both the laptop and his book and gave me his undivided attention.

“I thought you didn't like coming to mine,” he said, making me roll my eyes as I slipped the spare keys for his house into my bag.

“You're right. I don't because it's drug infested,” I said accusingly as I made my way across the living room to sit opposite him.

“Take a look around,” he said, holding his arms up as he gestured to the surprisingly clean living space. “I cleared it out just for you.”

“You cleared it out because of me or because the next shipment hasn't come in yet?” I asked, making him shrug his shoulders as if he didn't know even though we both knew the answer.

Pablo wasn't an avid drug user. He did a little here and there. Mostly weed although he did try that little pill that people took at parties and almost died of a heatstroke so that was enough to put him off most narcotics. Still wasn't enough to stop him from selling it to these big gangleaders despite the fact that he knew it would just end up being sold to people in our neighbourhood. His house was like a base of sorts for packages that needed to be delivered although Pablo wasn't the one that did the delivering. That wasn't his job.

“Why did you want to talk to me?” Pablo asked, his eyes holding a curious glimmer. “I doubt it's because you missed the sound of my angelic voice.”

“I actually quite hate the sound of your voice,” I said, shivering in disgust. “Reminds me of nails on a chalkboard.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, what is it?” he asked, clearly getting tired of my incessant insults. It was crazy to me how we always seemed to be going back and forth, not one of us getting tired of it. I assumed one day we would both get fed up.

“You remember that thing I talked to you about the other day?” I asked, making his brows furrow before realisation dawned on his features and he nodded his head, a knowing look now on his face. “Have you done it yet? How did it go?”

Pablo huffed and leaned back in his chair, the exhaustion he felt now obvious. “The doctor said I might need to redo the surgery,” he said much to my surprise. I hadn't actually expected for this to happen; for Emma to be right. Pablo could really be the father of this child she's pregnant with. “I got it done when I was too young so it healed as I grew,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders without fully knowing the implications of anything. “It's alright. I'll be fine.”

“You're not at all worried about...” I trailed off, not knowing how to ask him if he was concerned about being a father. Especially since I knew how much he didn't want children. He was good with them, yes, but ultimately, Pablo didn't seem to have a fathering bone within him. He seemed content being only the cool uncle.

“About getting someone pregnant?” he asked before laughing and shaking his head. “Sure there was sperm in the sample but it was too small of an amount to realistically get anyone pregnant. Plus, Emma is on birth control,” he shrugged, immediately defaulting to Emma because she was really the only girl he had in his life.