Harley and Christine, disguised with masks, arrived at Mount Sinai Hospital.
After fasting, they underwent ultrasounds and blood tests, then sat on a bench outside the clinic, waiting quietly for the results.
Harley's small hands gripped her clothes tightly, her heart pounding faster than when she fought her way out of Long Island Prison in a bloody massacre.
Ten minutes later, a hefty nurse called out, holding a chart, "Number 76, Ms. Betty!"
Harley sat there, dazed, lost in her head, not even hearing her alias called.
"Hey, that's you!" Christine nudged her shoulder.
"Huh… oh! I'm coming!" Harley jumped up, waving her number tag and heading to the clinic, Christine trailing behind.
The nurse quickly blocked her. "Ma'am! This is a VIP clinic, one at a time."
Christine brushed past, tossing her number 77 tag at the nurse. "We're besties, no problem."
The nurse caught the tag, her expression turning weird.
Besties, both pregnant?
Oh my God, I hope it's not what I'm thinking.
They entered the clinic. The female doctor, in her thirties, looked unfazed, not a hint of surprise.
After over a decade as a doctor, she'd seen it all—besties pregnant together, even sisters knocked up at the same time. No big deal.
They greeted the doctor and sat stiffly on the couch.
In the past ten days, they'd poured so much emotion into the lives growing inside them.
If the doctor suddenly said, "Sorry, you're not fucking pregnant," Harley, especially, would lose her shit.
The doctor pulled up their test results on the computer, then smiled. "Congrats, you're gonna be moms."
"YES!" Harley's face lit up, fist-pumping in excitement.
Christine touched her belly, exhaling softly, her expression calm and serene.
"Doc, are they boys or girls?" Harley asked, buzzing with excitement.
The doctor smiled. "You need to be at least three and a half months along for an ultrasound to tell. Don't rush it."
"What about precautions during pregnancy?"
"Oh, plenty of those," The doctor said, her tone turning serious. She rattled off a detailed list of pregnancy dos and don'ts.
For VIP clients paying big bucks, she had the patience to spare.
She listed over a dozen rules. Harley scratched her head, already forgetting the first one.
She shot the doctor an apologetic grin, then leaned over to Christine, whispering, "This doc seems nice and legit. How about we…"
Christine turned, staring at Harley in shock.
As the former head of the Black Organization, she'd seen a lot—kidnapping tycoons, politicians—but never a fucking doctor. Harley's brain was something else.
Seeing Christine's silence, Harley took it as an agreement and stepped up to the doctor. "Doc, I didn't catch any of those dozen rules you mentioned."
The doctor's face froze, thinking, *You're fucking dumb as hell.*
As she grabbed a pen and paper to write them down, Harley grinned. "How about you come with us, check on our kids' health every day until they're born safe. Sounds good?"
The doctor's jaw dropped, barely resisting the urge to call security. "Ma'am, that's not possible. I'm not a private doctor."
She kept the rest to herself: *I make a few hundred grand a year. You think you can afford me?*
Harley seemed to expect the refusal. She unzipped her bag, rummaging inside.
The doctor waved her off. "Ma'am, no tip's gonna change my mind."
Harley smirked. "Not looking for that."
The doctor looked down to see a gun barrel pointed at her face.
She threw up her hands, stammering, "Ma'am, what the…"
Harley tilted the gun. "No bullshit. Take us to get the pregnancy meds, now."
"Alright… fine."
The doctor realized this chick was unhinged.
Giving up on arguing, she slid her hand under the desk and hit the alarm button.
Soon, hospital security got the distress call and sprinted toward the clinic.
Harley dragged the doctor out, but before they reached the pharmacy, a swarm of guards closed in from all sides.
"Hmph, not very obedient, are you?" Harley shot the doctor a pissed-off glare, figuring out what happened.
Now that she knew she was pregnant, Harley didn't want to start a bloodbath. "Ma'am, give it up. You're not leaving this hospital."
Harley and Christine exchanged a look, then she grinned. "Wanna bet? I'm walking out today, and you're gonna be my personal doc, nice and quiet."
With that, both women drew their guns and fired rapid shots at the guards.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
Gunshots echoed. Several guards took bullets to the forehead and dropped dead.
The gunfire shattered the hospital's chaos, plunging it into silence.
"AH!!!"
A few seconds later, piercing screams erupted. Patients and nurses bolted for the exits, turning the orderly hospital into a fucking madhouse.
The doctor stood there, jaw dropped.
She'd thought these were just two crazy bitches, but their headshot-accurate gunfire from thirty or forty meters out left her stunned. Even the police couldn't pull that off. Who the fuck were these women?
"Move!" Harley shoved her, herding her like a duck toward the pharmacy.
The doctor gave up resisting, praying Harley wouldn't shoot her.
She grabbed a plastic bag and stuffed in a few bottles of folic acid and other vitamins. "Done!"
Harley raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
The doctor, legs trembling, explained, "You just need proper nutrition during pregnancy. Folic acid and these vitamins are enough."
Harley glared, but the doctor's fear looked genuine, not like a lie.
By now, the rest of the hospital's security finally showed up.
Knowing the robbers were armed, they didn't rush in like idiots. They'd grabbed bulletproof vests and helmets from the armory.
"Where are they?!"
Aside from a few trampled victims, the hospital lobby was empty. Security quickly spotted Harley's group.
"Time to go!" Harley just wanted to surprise Jason with the big news and had no time to waste on these lowlifes.
She grabbed the doctor's collar. Christine put a hand on her shoulder.
The guards blinked, and the three women vanished from the pharmacy.
"Shit!"
"What the fuck?!"
Harley teleported four times, landing in one of the gang's hideouts.
The doctor, fighting dizziness, opened her eyes, took in her surroundings, and lost her shit. "Where… where the fuck is this?"
Harley didn't bother explaining. She called two goons to lock the doctor up tight, then pulled out her phone to call Jason.
…
At the biker gang's new HQ.
The interrogation room was airtight, the stale air thick with the stench of scorched muscle tissue.
Jason still sat in his chair, watching Billy's performance. He'd been at it for seven hours.
To him, the time flew by like watching a movie.
But for Clint, every minute of those seven hours was pure fucking agony.
Thanks to the chemical drugs, Clint stayed conscious despite the excruciating pain.
Every precise cut Billy made screamed through Clint's nerves to his brain.
"Ahhh~~"
Jason yawned, bored. Billy's torture show was losing its thrill, the initial rush completely gone.
His phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, he stood and told Billy, "He's yours. Like I said, keep him alive for at least 24 hours."
Billy nodded seriously. "Boss, I got this."
Jason nodded, stepped out of the interrogation room, and answered the call.
"Honey! Where are you at?"
"New biker gang HQ. What's up?"
"Come back quick. I've got a huge fucking surprise for you."
Harley hung up.
A surprise!
A huge fucking surprise!
Jason pocketed his phone, puzzled.
Did she rob a bank's vault or something?
That wouldn't even count as a surprise.
Since taking over New York's black market, Jason had learned how much legit business raked in.
Robbing banks? Small-time shit.
Half an hour later, Jason arrived at Harley's hideout.
The moment he walked in, he asked, "So, what's this big surprise?"
Harley pulled out a printed test report and handed it to him.
Jason squinted at it, confused as hell. "What's this HCG shit? And what's this weird black-and-white picture?"
Harley, putting her new knowledge to use, explained, "HCG is human chorionic gonadotropin. That's an ultrasound of our bellies. In short, me and Christine are pregnant. You're gonna be a dad!"
*Thud!*
Jason's face froze, the report slipping from his hands to the floor.
"I… I'm gonna be a dad?"
Jason's mind went blank, stuck on those words.
He looked up. Both women, glowing like peaches, smiled softly at him.
Jason stepped forward, touching their stomachs, where two new lives were growing.
For the first time, a raw, real feeling hit him.
It was like the last twenty-something years had been a waste.
Now, he was finally rooted, fused with this wild-ass world.
.
.
.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
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