“You missed your fucking period? You say you’re pregnant,” he kicks at me again. “With whose baby you good for nothing whore!”
“Justin…” I beg. “It’s your baby. Ours…” I try again as he kicks me viciously again. The crack of one, possibly two ribs sounds unbearably loud. I clutch at the floor with my fingernails, trying to move, to crawl away but he doesn’t stop.
“We used protection. Every fucking time. That means you were fucking that study buddy. I knew this whole time…you said you loved me. And now, look at you!” he roars. ”Knocked up from a tiny, pencil dicked geek.” He pulls me out of my position, forces my arms wide where he holds them down with the weight of his knees. I try to kick and turn but the pain is so intense I’m losing my vision.
“You know I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. Strangle him until he’s lost all breath and then I’m going to cut off his balls and feed them to him one at a time for touching my property!” He spits in my face then starts back up with the punching. At some point I lose consciousness praying that my baby will survive the blows in equal hope praying that it doesn’t because this is no life for an innocent child.
Cold. So cold. My teeth are chattering as a warm hand slides up and down my back in smooth even movements. “Come back to me, baby. Come home,” I hear the one voice that instantly brings me relief. Chase. He’s here, not Justin. Small kisses line my temple and my forehead. When my body comes back on line, I clutch at him, his strong shoulders, legs wrapping around his tight waist. I feel weightless; he’s standing, and I feel only him. Then I’m back down; he’s sitting, holding me close. Slowly opening my eyes, I can see I’m still in the hospital, the room has a soft, muted glow. I see Maria, asleep in her bed. I’m still here.
“That’s it, honey, you’re okay. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here, bringing you back to me,” Chase coos into my ear. I grip onto his shoulders and lean back. I press my forehead against his and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper not knowing what else to say.
Chase holds me low at the back and shakes his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. You had a moment, baby.” I nod and breathe in his comforting sandalwood and citrus scent. It fills the air around me, and I nuzzle into his neck, portions of the flashback still clawing at my psyche.
I’d missed my period. Told Justin I was pregnant, and he beat the living shit out of me. Every time I recall that night, I wonder what I could have done differently, how I could have turned things around. Perhaps killed him before he killed my baby.
Then it hits me. “How long has it been since our wedding?” I ask on a rushed breath.
“Four days,” Chase says instantly.
I chuckle and rub into his chest, laying my hand over his heart, feeling its steady, strong beat. “No, since Mexico.”
He groans but responds, “About five weeks.” Then he curls a hand around my neck and tips my head up. “Why?” When I look into his eyes, they are filled with love and concern, for me. Nothing but me. I know Chase, the man who loves me, my husband, would go to the ends of the earth for me.
“Five weeks!” I let out in a breath, the two words sending a nervousness so acute it rattles my teeth.
Chase nods, his eyes narrowing. He positions me so I’m straddling him, and one of his strong hands tunnels into my hair holding me at the nape. He maneuvers my head so I’m looking into his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
The last time I told a man this exact thing he beat the shit out of me. Instantly, I feel the tremors of panic starting to build. Chase can sense it because he tightens his hold, bringing me even closer and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, no way, breathe baby, breathe. You’re safe. You’re here with me, your husband. Nothing can happen to you here in my arms. I’ll protect you.” His words are exactly what I need to hear, the reassurance necessary to continue.
“You promise?” I choke out, shivers wracking my frame as I fear telling him what I need to say.
“Never gonna hurt you, baby. I promise. You’re safe.”
“Chase,” I whisper and look into his eyes, still love and concern there but now hints of fear. He’s afraid. I lick my dry lips and swallow.
“Tell me,” he lays his head against my forehead. The connection is all I need. His warmth, holding me close, his hands soothing me in long unhurried caresses.
“I missed my period,” I say so softly I’m not sure he heard it. His body tenses, and then mine does in response.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes. “What? When?”
“Um, I should have gotten it the week after our wedding.” His eyes go wide but not in the scary way Justin’s did. More like a surprised, holy shit way.
Chase licks his lips and cups my face. “I’m no expert, but doesn’t that mean you should have had it again, meaning you missed it twice?”
I nod. “Okay,” he says softly. “Have you been taking your pills?”
This time my eyes get big. Huge. Probably the size of half dollars if I had to guess. “I-I uh…no,” I finally admit.
Chase smiles softly, his blue gaze turning an honest-to-God aquamarine so blue it steals my breath with its beauty. “When was the last time you remember taking them?” There is not even a hint of anger in his tone, just the simple question.
I think back, the reel of memories of the past few weeks sweeps through my mind in a giant rush.
Getting the tattoo, the incredible feeling when Chase went down to his knees to inspect it.
Making love for the first time as a married couple in the tent with our ocean view.
Saying our vows in a tiny church in Ireland.
Finding the wedding gown and the tapestry.
Our emotional visit with Dr. Madison.
The hospital stay.
Being locked away in that disgusting storm shelter.
The look of hatred in Danny’s eyes as he tore the front of my wedding dress and fondled me.
Chase’s mother’s throat being cut, the blood pouring out over her chest.
I close my eyes tight, the memories flooding by so fast my temperature rises but Chase is there. Laying a calm hand to my cheek.
The yacht where he gave me the infinity necklace.
The yacht. “It was on the yacht. My pills. That’s the last time I remember taking them. Then there was the wedding, your Mom, being taken, the hospital stay…” He presses his lips to mine cutting off my excuses. His mouth is soft over mine, his kiss worshipping in its sweetness. He pulls away and cups both my cheeks.
“It’s okay. We’ll get through this together. It might be nothing, it could be the strain of everything that’s happened right?”
I nod and wait for him to finish his thoughts. “So we’re not going to worry. We’ll handle this together. Husband and wife. Right?” I nod again tears pricking at my eyes. “No crying. Me and you.”
Chase
Holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. This is not at all something I planned for. Not something we planned for. I’m holding her hand and leading her out of Maria’s room. We’re on a mission. Well, I am. Get as many fucking pregnancy tests as possible, and confirm the results. Fuck!
“Where are we going?” she says, her voice so small it stops me in my tracks. I turn in the hall, the bright lights of the hospital bearing down on my wife’s tortured face. The pit in my stomach that formed when she said the words, “Missed my period” deepens further.
I cup her cheek. “Hey, none of that. We’re just going to get the tests, and confirm what we suspect one way or another. Okay?”
“You’re not mad?” Her voice trembles and that sound sends knives into my chest. I want to kill, torture and maim every man who ever made her afraid to be honest with me.
I pull her close into my arms. “God no. Gillian, we have been through so much over the past few months. If anything, this could be one of the good things.”
She backs away from my hold. “Really?” Her breath catches, and her eyes search mine. I smile even though my insides are
screaming to run to the nearest pharmacy and find out if my wife is carrying my child. Our baby. I need to stay strong. Not show how much this news is affecting me. I’m not sure how to feel. All I know is that the desire to find out for sure is leading all actions from here on out.
Jack walks up to us. He was waiting outside Maria’s room. I’ve got guards once more on both Maria and Kathleen though Kathleen is still in ICU.
“Sir? Davis Estate?” Jack asks in his usual no non-sense timber.
I shake my head. “We’re stopping at a drug store, then going to the penthouse.”
Jack’s jaw tightens, and I cut my gaze at him so sharply he doesn’t respond just nods. Thank Christ. The last thing I need right now is insubordination. Not that I treat him like any of my other employees, but right now, I’m sure he can feel the tension filling the space around me. I clutch Gillian to my side, holding her close. Fuck. I can’t get her close enough. If she’d let me carry her through the hospital I would. She could be growing my baby within her right this very minute. That thought speaks deeply to the caveman within me. As we walk by, I want to growl and bark at any person who so much as bumps into her.
I clench my teeth, and we walk briskly out of the hospital. Jack ushers us into the blacked out SUV and we’re off.
I have Gillian wait in the car while I go into Walgreen’s alone, to Jack’s extreme discomfort. At this point, I don’t fucking care. It’s none of his business what I’m doing, and I don’t want her worrying about anything. She’s been through too fucking much already. When I find the right aisle I’m shocked by how many options there are. Shouldn’t it just be one? Take this test and find out pregnant or not. Instead of dealing with reading them, I grab one of each and head up to the register.
“Whoa, Dude. Sorry man,” the young man looks at me knowingly while ringing up each test. “Had a few scares myself,” he offers, and I want to punch his backwards hat wearing, pimply face in the teeth, just so he’ll shut the fuck up. I narrow my gaze at him and hand him two hundred dollar bills when the total comes out to one hundred and eighty something. I snatch up the bags and leave without getting a receipt or the change.
“Dude, your change,” the kid yells.
“Keep it,” I growl over my shoulder. Jack has parked directly in front of the store blocking the entrance. He’s already opening my door when I come out. His eyes glance down at the bag full of tests clearly visible through the mostly translucent bags. Fucking cheap bags. His eyes widen and a small smirk appears.
“Not a fucking word.” The words come out as if dipped in acid.
Jack doesn’t care about my overbearing, demonstrative ways. He’s known me far too long to give a shit about ruffling my feathers. “Never. Sir.” he says anyway, a small smile on his lips. Again, the need to punch someone in the face roars through me.
We make it across town to the penthouse. I’m gripping Gillian’s hand so tight she’s caressing the top of my hand, trying to soothe me. When the hell did the tables turn around so that she was comforting me? She hasn’t said anything since the hospital. I’m worried about her, the flashback, the stress of seeing Maria and Kathleen in the hospital and now this.
It’s not as though I don’t want to have children. I do. Ever since she put the idea in my head all those months ago, I’d wanted to see her bloom with my child growing inside her, but I’d rather have it be during a time where we can both focus on growing our family and nothing else. A time like this should be about us and our desire to have a child. Not about the psychotic madman who’s after her and the people she loves, while dealing with a prospective progeny.
When we arrive at the top floor of Davis Industries, Jack does a cursory sweep and then we enter. I walk her straight back to our master bathroom and dump out the contents of the two bags.
“Okay. I got one of everything.”
“Chase seriously? One would do.”
I shake my head. “False positives. We need to be sure.”
She blinks up at me and then nods. I can’t place where her emotions are right now. She’s definitely solemn yet not giving anything to let me know how she feels otherwise. This has to be a hit to her psyche. I wonder if I should call Dr. Madison. Have him come here, talk with us once we know. Either way, she’s going to need to work through this. I just hope she can do most of that with me. I want to be the one who can soothe her, bring her back to the happy, beautiful self I know that’s hiding under all that pain. The woman who was carefree in Ireland. Right then, I promise to take her back there, to put that smile on her face once more.
I pull out the first three tests in the bag, rip open each package and dump them on the counter. “You need some water?”
She nods, so I fill the glass by her vanity and hand it to her. Like the appeasing woman she can easily turn into, she downs it all. I hand her three sticks. “Think you can urinate on all of them at once?”
That question gets me a grin. A full-fledged, knock-down, drag-out, beautiful one. “Do you like sex?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” I stumble over the answer and this time she smiles wide, all hints of fear and nervousness leave her.
“Then don’t ask me stupid questions, and I won’t ask you stupid questions.”
I chuckle. “She jokes.” I grip her outstretched arm, pull her close, and kiss her with everything I have in me. The fear, the anticipation, and all the love I have for her. I pour it into that one kiss so she knows, can feel what I am incapable of telling her. That no matter what happens, we’re together, and we can take anything on. That I love her and will love our child if that’s what’s meant to be for us.
She pulls back and her eyes are glazed, brimming with love and lust even now during this tense time. “Christ, I love you,” I growl into her face and then take her lips again.
Breathless, she pulls back. “It’s a good thing because I love you right back,” she says with a wink then takes the three tests and enters the little cove.
While she’s in there I grab a shoebox from our closet and dump out the new Louis Vuitton’s Dana must have purchased for Gillian. My girl rarely shops and when she does, it’s always bargain basement. That little reminder of what we used to be puts a smile on my face as I bring the empty box to her. She opens the door with the three tests in her hand.
“Put them in the box.” She does and I set it on the counter, grab her hand then bring her to our bed. As she stands there, I unbutton her shirt and push it off her shoulders.
One of her eyebrows rises into an arch toward her hairline. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“Need to feel your skin.” I say and she nods standing there in pants and a camisole. With one hand I pull my shirt over my head. Then I remove her pants leaving her in her tiny shirt and panties then remove my own so I’m in only boxers. Grabbing her hand in one of mine, and pulling back the comforter with the other, I lead her into our bed.
We face each other, our bodies touching everywhere…and we wait.
“Are you scared?” her voice shakes a bit but she lets it out with a slow breath.
“Yes,” I answer instantly. “But not for the reasons you think.”
She licks her lips and pushes a lock of my hair off my forehead. She’s done it a million times before, but somehow, now, it means more. I close my eyes and just feel her touch. It’s like a balm over the jagged edges of my psyche. “Tell me,” she pushes.
“I’m scared that he’ll get to you and possibly our baby.” I admit the fear needling against my chest making my heart pound. I put a hand over her stomach. “If my baby is in there, it’s my job to protect it and its mother. I haven’t done a very good job of protecting you and the thought of not being able to protect our child guts me.”
Tears fill her eyes and she kisses me. “Chase,” she whispers against my lips. “You’re the only one who can protect me. Keep our baby safe. Don’t you know that?”
I groan, roll on top of her and settle between her thighs. She holds
me close, arms wrapped around my back. We hug, for a couple long minutes until my phone alarm goes off in the bathroom. “That’s the buzzer for the tests.” She gasps and cuddles me close. For a moment we just hold one another while the annoying beep goes on and on. “Okay, I’m going to get it.” She nods.
Entering the bathroom feels like I’m walking into a flame. This moment could change our lives forever. I grab the box and the paperwork that came with the tests without looking down. I want us to do this together. Everything together.
I settle the box directly between us as we both sit Indian style on our bed. “Okay, you want to look first or together?”
Her eyes are so green and filled with so much fear; I lean forward and kiss her. She holds my jaw and kisses me back with a fierce possession I haven’t felt since our wedding night in Ireland. Finally, she pulls back. “You read them to me.” She sits back and clasps her hands in her lap.
I nod then look down into the box at the first one. “Two lines?” I look up at her and her eyebrows come together in confusion and she grabs at the papers. “What the fuck does that mean? Two lines for yes, two lines for no.” She shakes her head and moves to grab for the papers.
“Read another one,” she says.
“One side is a line, the other a plus symbol. What the fuck?” I look up hoping she’ll know what that means and she shakes her head skimming the materials. “Christ!” How can this be so God damned difficult?
“What’s the last one say?” she blows out a breath, her red hair moving with the effort as she pours over the three different papers.
I look down and stop cold. The last one is mechanical and definitive. There is absolutely no guesswork needed, no searching through the paperwork to understand the symbolism of one line, versus two, a minus or a plus symbol.
“Um Gillian, baby,” I hold up the test. Her eyes zero in on the words that I’m staring at. Her hands come to her mouth on a gasp.
The little test has a grey screen with dark, bold, black writing. The text is clear as day as the indicator clearly says the exact word we needed to see to be certain.
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