His Surprise Baby

by Valentine, Layla

  Realizing that it was a conversation that was likely better saved for later, I offered him a nervous smile. He didn’t return the expression, looking rather strained. He turned his attention back to the pancakes he was cooking, looking furious to see that he had taken too long to flip the one in the pan.

  He growled, grabbing the pan and throwing it in the sink—pancake and all.

  “Son of a bitch, I can’t even make breakfast like this,” he swore, storming past me to rummage through the cabinets again.

  This time, he came out with a box of cereal that had likely gone stale some time ago. I tried to keep a positive expression, flinching as he slammed the box on the table then tossed down a bowl.

  “Eat up. We’ve gotta get a move on. I’ve dawdled too much on this mission,” he said coldly.

  “W-was I that bad?” I stammered, and his expression softened slightly, if only for a moment.

  He quickly steeled himself again, and I realized that trying to talk to him was a lost cause. I sat down at the table, pouring some cereal in the bowl.

  “Is there any milk?” I tried again, hoping that he would at least answer that simple question.

  “Sorry, no. You’re just gonna have to eat it dry. They didn’t really have a lot of time to stock this place,” he replied, not sounding remotely sorry.

  I felt immeasurably silly sitting naked at the table while he paced the floor. He seemed lost in his own mind, and I wasn’t prepared to draw him out again. It seemed I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that we were pretending the night before hadn’t happened.

  Belatedly, the thought struck me through the heart like a poison arrow. I frowned into my dry cereal, realizing what a dire mistake I had made. Not only was I miles away from home and being turned into the feds; I’d also lost my virginity to a man who seemed to care about nothing but the mission.

  It was painful to think that his entire personality had been a facade up until that point. He had seemed so sincere, but perhaps he had only wanted one thing from me.

  Well, one thing aside from turning me in.

  Tears filled my eyes, and I struggled to keep my sniffles quiet. I took as much time as I could eating the depressing breakfast, musing that I could be eating at a five-star restaurant at that very moment, had I remained in Guam. I had given up everything for this stupid idea of freedom, and it seemed that I wouldn’t even get the chance to enjoy it with the man I loved.

  I’d been an idiot to think he could have loved me back. I’d been stupid to think he could feel in any capacity at all.

  “Owen, how much longer do I have with you?” I asked, noticing the subtle tensing of his muscles. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I just…I was just curious,” I blurted, trying to make up for my mistake.

  “You have until you finish breakfast and get dressed. Since you’re not even eating, just go put some clothes on. We’ve wasted too much time already,” he snapped.

  He stomped into the living room, grabbing a shirt from his suitcase. I watched him for a moment, aching at the thought that everything we’d been through was just a waste of time for him. It had been so much more than that—for me, anyway.

  Jolting out of the chair as he glared in my direction, I padded into the bedroom to gather my clothes and get dressed. It occurred to me to try and escape from the bathroom window again, but I realized that I simply didn’t care enough to make the effort. Ultimately, it seemed that all I’d ever been was a glorified prisoner.

  If he wanted to turn me over, I would allow it. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him, even after the pain he’d caused me.

  Taking my time to get dressed, I allowed my tears to fall freely in the loneliness of the empty bedroom. I wasn’t even that angry at Owen. He was only doing a job. I had more or less forced myself on him, and he had just given me what I’d thought I’d wanted.

  Now that my innocence was gone, I had to accept that sometimes life just wasn’t fair. I couldn’t act like a sheltered child any longer. I would turn my father over, and accept whatever fate the FBI decided to inflict upon me.

  When I stepped out of the bedroom, Owen was dressed and smoking a cigarette on the couch. I hadn’t even known he smoked, and it went to show just how little I actually knew about him.

  I shuffled towards him, my arms hanging limply at my sides as I searched his expression for some semblance of the man I thought I had come to know.

  He looked pained, in a way, but maybe I was just projecting my own feelings onto him.

  “I guess we should get moving, then?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded, rising from the sofa and stubbing out the cigarette on the rough fabric. It burned a hole through it, and I was somewhat shocked by the callous action. Somehow, the simple fact that he scorned the place that was so important to me was enough to spurn me into crying again.

  His expression flickered from stony to sympathetic, and he reached out a hand as if to touch my arm. I drew away, turning to walk towards the door.

  “Yeah. I guess it’s time we finish this,” he said from behind me, his voice gruff.

  He pushed the door open, giving me a little push outside. I hesitated for a split second, glancing back into the safe house. It hadn’t been much, but it had been my one taste of something like freedom. It was the place where I’d lost my virginity. It was where I’d fallen in love…for what good that did.

  Bidding the place a mental farewell, I allowed Owen to guide me to the car, ready to accept whatever fate lay ahead of me.

  Chapter 20

  Owen

  The car ride passed in relative silence, and I struggled to keep my eyes off of Emily for the duration. I couldn’t deny that her every sniffle cracked my heart closer and closer to utter disrepair.

  I clenched my hands on the steering wheel, trying to tell myself I was doing the right thing. If it was so right, though, why did it feel so awful? Surely I hadn’t needed to be so cruel to her, but I was afraid that if I allowed myself the slightest bit of kindness, I would lose my resolve. I couldn’t afford to compromise the mission; I would effectively be ruining myself in the process.

  As I peered over at her, my heart gave a painful throb. She was so damn beautiful, in spite of her state of disarray. That damn gaudy necklace didn’t even look half bad in that moment.

  Maybe I really was losing it. It seemed more likely that I’d already gone insane, had given myself to the craziness from the moment I made love to Emily.

  As much as I wanted to believe the contrary, I had no doubt that what I felt for her was more than lust or even a simple crush. So much had happened over the course of our time together, and though it hadn’t been all that long, it still felt as if we’d known each other for an eternity.

  Could I really betray her like this? Moreover, would I allow myself to betray my own feelings by turning her into the feds without knowing what would happen to her? There was no telling what they would do with her, though she hadn’t committed any crimes.

  She had been held prisoner by her father; it wasn’t as if she’d willingly gone along with him. She hadn’t agreed to hold tight to his secrets; she had been forced. As much as I wanted to blame Randy Madden for what he had put his daughter through, I couldn’t shoulder my own mistakes off on him. I was wounding her more deeply than he ever had.

  Thinking I held some sort of power over Emily may have seemed self-absorbed, but the girl wasn’t exactly a closed book when it came to her feelings. I had no doubt in my heart that she loved me—or had, before I’d dragged her into that damn car that morning.

  It took all of my self-restraint not to make a U-turn in the middle of the road, take off down the street and…and…

  Where would we go from there? The military was all I had ever known. It had given me the freedom I’d never known as a teenager. It gave me the family I’d longed for, the kind that would accept me without forcing me into some tiny box in the middle of nowhere.

  Yet, wasn’t that what I was
doing to Emily in the very act of turning her in? Stealing her freedom, shoving her back into a prison that I had more or less vowed to help her escape? She bore the title of my captive, but it had never felt quite that way. I cared about her. Wardens didn’t love their inmates.

  It was as simple as that, really. It should have been enough that I loved her.

  My eyes were drawn to her again, and she glanced towards me with a helpless sort of sigh. She had given up, and I had brought that upon her. The woman who had gotten under my skin like no one else was likely convinced I was some stone-cold asshole.

  Was I? Would I really turn her in? There really wasn’t any other option. If I fled with her, what sort of life could I have given her? It was better that I turned her in, better that she not entertain the hope of leading a happy life clutched in my arms.

  I couldn’t give her much. If I quit my job, I would have nothing. Being a SEAL was all I knew. I’d sacrificed so much to be where I was in that moment. I’d sacrificed my family. I’d sacrificed my home. But I’d come out for the better for it…hadn’t I?

  The decision seemed to be made, and I settled on the path to the FBI field office. She would be fine. She would be happy. The feds couldn’t do anything that horrible to her, could they? She was innocent, after all.

  “I’m sorry for all of this, Owen,” she said quietly, interrupting my thoughts.

  I glanced at her, raising a speculative brow.

  “What are you apologizing for?” I asked, not bothering to hide the weariness in my voice.

  I let the fact that I should have been the one apologizing hanging in the air, doomed to remain unsaid. It wasn’t that I feared showing weakness; I was confident enough to admit when I was wrong in most cases. This one was different. The fact that I was utterly and completely in the wrong went without saying.

  Even still, she raised a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. I was relieved that she seemed to be pulling herself together, but the bitter resignation that radiated from her was anything but comforting. She reached out, resting her hand on the center console. I took it without a second thought, gripping it in my own.

  Love was supposed to be a splendored thing, yet there I sat, ruining it without a second thought. I told myself it was for the best, repeating the mantra in my head until I was almost able to believe it.

  “I shouldn’t have forced you last night,” she said quietly. “I let my feelings get in the way, and I know you don’t feel the same about me, so it wasn’t fair. I was angry at first, knowing that you planned to turn me in all the same, but I can’t stay mad. I didn’t have sex with you because I expected some higher treatment. I asked you to make love to me because that’s…what I feel for you.”

  There was something unfair about the way she’d admitted it, the way she’d been able to say she loved me with such ease. Then again, she was innocent. Her love was pure, while mine was just the opposite.

  “You didn’t force me into anything,” I croaked, though it may have been easier to let her believe as such.

  I was head over heels for her, but it wasn’t like it was something I could readily confess. It would only make things more difficult, more difficult than any of this really needed to be. If she was willing to operate under the notion that I was using her, was it that wrong to allow it? Especially when it would spare her feelings?

  “You wouldn’t have had sex with me if I hadn’t thrown myself at you. I complicated things. I knew from the start what your intentions were, and I’ve always known I was a captive. Blurring the lines only made things more difficult for both of us. Well, for me at least…” she trailed off, resting her forehead against the window.

  I remained quiet, though I wanted nothing more than to tell her how wrong she was. It was difficult for me, too; she had to know that. I’d given her no indication to suspect as much, but it wasn’t as if I were that closed-off with my feelings.

  Then, it struck me. My father hadn’t even known that I had my own dreams. He’d offered me ownership of his business because he’d felt it was the right thing to do, not to spite me. I often said he begrudged my choice of joining the military, but that wasn’t necessarily so. I hadn’t heard from him since I’d left West Virginia. He probably didn’t even know where I was right now.

  Did that speak of the limited nature of my compassion? Was I cold? How could I have gone my whole life without offering some sort of kindness to those that cared the deepest about me?

  “It wasn’t exactly a one-way street, Em,” I murmured, the pet name flowing off of my tongue without a thought.

  It felt comfortable; it seemed somehow right. She didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in my betrayal to even consider my words deeply. As much as I wanted to reach out and grip her chin in my hand, force her lips to my own with all the tenderness of a proper man in love, I realized that we were nearing our destination.

  It felt much like driving off a cliff, knowing that I was throwing away my chance at true happiness. Years I’d spent, longing for someone to hold close at night. The night before had been everything I’d hoped for and more.

  If only we had met under different circumstances.

  “Yeah, I feel the same,” she whispered, and I realized that I had voiced my thoughts aloud.

  She sighed sadly as we pulled into the parking lot wherein her fate would be sealed. I parked near the exit, gripping her hand more tightly in my own when she made to open the passenger side door.

  She paused, looking at me with a curious expression.

  “I’m not going to run. You don’t have to walk me inside. I wouldn’t endanger your job like that,” she assured me, using her free hand to pat the top of our joined ones.

  I kept a grip on her, staring at the building where a federal agent was waiting for me to drop her off.

  He hadn’t seemed to notice our presence, instead focusing on the screen of his cellphone. He was so wrapped up in whatever application he was fiddling with that he probably wouldn’t notice Emily until she walked straight up to him.

  “Wait,” I breathed as Emily began to draw away from me.

  Enough of the theatrics. Enough of waiting for what might have been, what could have happened. I was going to grasp the future by its damn horns.

  “What is it, Owen?” the girl who had captured my heart asked, and I reached over to fasten her seatbelt once more.

  Quickly, I shifted into reverse, keeping a close eye on the federal agent who waited near the entrance.

  “Duck, and stay down until I say otherwise,” I whispered, maintaining a steady speed out of the parking lot.

  Emily obliged, staring at me through wide and confused eyes.

  I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Not ever.

  Chapter 21

  Owen

  We traveled in relative silence for thirty minutes or so. Emily had yet to rise from her ducked position, and I might have been amused if she weren’t staring so incredulously at me.

  Determined to keep my cool, I refused to meet her gaze. As far as I was concerned, I had made my point well enough by refusing to hand her over. Granted, there hadn’t been an explicit refusal, but it was very well implied. I certainly didn’t want to spell things out for her. It was embarrassing enough to be gripped so fully by my feelings; I didn’t want to give voice to them.

  I couldn’t quite believe it, but I actually wanted things to work with Emily. What I felt for her was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, like stepping out into the sunshine after being locked away for years. It was the most intense feeling I’d ever felt, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. As much as I’d wanted to be close to someone, now that she had been dropped in my lap, I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

  Emily was more wonderful than I could have ever imagined her. In the short time we’d been together, I’d been happier than I’d ever thought possible. I felt complete. Admittedly, there had been a few missteps, but…I knew what I felt. I also knew that it wasn’t a feeling
I could simply smother and hope that it faded.

  “What are we doing, Owen?” she asked carefully, finally taking the initiative to scoot up in her seat.

  The drop-off point was miles behind us, and I didn’t quite know where I was driving. All I knew what that I needed distance from the place where I had nearly given up the woman I loved.

  She would forgive me; I knew. She was far too enamored with me for her own good, and more than I deserved. I decided that, for the foreseeable future, I would make sure she knew how much she meant to me.

  “I’m not willing to lose you,” I said after moment, and she looked at me as if I’d grown a second head.

  Admittedly, with how cold I had been acting, it must have seemed strange for me to have such a sudden change of heart.

  “The mission, though…” she sputtered, reaching out to grasp my hand.

  I settled our joined hands in their familiar place on the center console, giving hers a reassuring squeeze.

  “You mean more to me than any mission. I just—” I paused, fidgeting in an uncharacteristic show of nervousness. “I just hope we can avoid their radar. I’m sure that I’ll be considered a criminal for taking off with the woman I’ve been ordered to hand over to law enforcement, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Her expression was one of obvious concern, and I was almost sure she’d think I was an idiot.

  “Do…do you really mean that? I can’t just let you throw your life away for me! It’s not fair; I don’t expect you to feel the same way as I do. I never wanted you to put your own wellbeing at stake for me,” she insisted.

  I found myself grinning a bit, stroking my thumb along the back of her hand. She seemed comforted by the simple action, though she was clearly wracked with nerves all the same.

  “It’s one of those things, Emily. You didn’t ask for me to do this. I took the initiative. I can’t deny how I feel for you anymore. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m sick of hurting you,” I said gruffly.