by Amiee Louise
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, beaut, I...I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”
I cup his face in my hands and look at him, his brown eyes are filled with such turmoil.
“Don’t apologise, Rem.”
I am about to crush my lips to his, when a cramp tears through me, almost taking my legs out from beneath me. Remy scoops me up in his arms.
“Right, where do you keep your hot water bottle? Go lie down, that’s an order. I’ll make us some hot chocolate, I’ve been dying to get my hands on that fancy coffee machine.”
He winks cheekily, and I point him in the direction of the kitchen cupboard.
“As much as I like you in leather, Dexter left some clothes behind in my spare room. You’re about the same size, you’re more than welcome to them if you want to change into something more comfortable.”
He nods, and I undress for bed, climbing gingerly underneath the covers. Ten minutes later, Remy returns wearing a pair of loose grey jogging bottoms and a plain white t-shirt. I still can’t get used to him with short hair. He has two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows in his hands and a hot water bottle underneath his arm.
“I improvised. Hope you don’t mind?”
He looks boyish as he says those words, and I chuckle softly.
“Course not, thank you. You’re so thoughtful.”
He smiles boyishly. He hands me the hot water bottle, and I place it on my stomach. He places both mugs down on the table next to my bed, and he perches himself on the edge.
“How are you feeling now?”
I nod.
“Better, thank you.”
He nods and takes out a box of paracetamol from his pocket, placing them on the table.
“Here, I found these. They should help with the pain.”
I smile.
“Thank you. Lie with me for a while?”
I open the duvet, inviting him into my bed. He climbs in next to me, pulling me into his side. I snuggle up to him, and soon, I am drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
***
My breathing comes in short, sharp, erratic bursts. My lungs are burning, and my body is trembling with such crippling fear.
“Did you really think I would allow you to have your happily ever fucking after, slut?”
J.D laughs maniacally as I start to sob hysterically. He looks the same as I remember him, and I know I won’t survive, not this time; he won’t allow it.
“FUCKING ANSWER ME, WHORE!”
I shake my head no as he scratches his head with the butt of his gun, which I didn’t realise he was holding. The action makes this all too real and I wish this was all a bad dream. I struggle against the metal handcuffs, which have me shackled to the bed. The bite of the metal against my wrist reminds me I'm not going anywhere. How the fuck did I get here? I realize I am naked as he steps closer to the bed. He sits next to me and runs the gun down my sternum. J.D traces a line down my abdomen and stops as he gets to my pubic bone.
“I think it's time for us to have a bit of fun, don’t you? Although my mother used to remind me all the time, it's not good manners to play with your food.”
J.D chuckles bitterly and I feel helpless. My legs are spread and bound as I see the familiar red light of the camera set up in the corner.
“Samson fucking Newbolt is going to curse the day he ever met me!”
His eyes wide and crazy. He presses the gun lower and without warning, shoves the barrel deep inside my pussy. The burn of the invasion stings as he starts to move the cold metal in and out, increasing his pace. I am screaming so loud, my ears ring with the sound.
“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP!” I scream, but it seems to urge him on as he is pumping it faster and faster. “STOP! PLEASE STOP!”
He laughs hysterically.
“I love it when you beg me, you little slut. I heard you on that tour bus begging Sam to fuck you harder. You sounded just like the rest of those sad, desperate groupies,” he taunts as he thrusts the gun harder into me.
It feels like something bursts inside of me and he looks down at his hand, which is covered in blood. My blood.
***
I wake up with a sharp gasp and sit bolt upright in bed. My breathing is laboured, and I am covered in a thin sheen of sweat while my heart thunders in my chest. I gulp in lungsful of air, and I pull back the duvet. The sight that greets me has my stomach roiling. The bed covered in a pool of dark crimson. I look down and the bottom half of my body is soaked in blood. I let out a strangled sob.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
I start to feel myself panic and shake Remy, who is asleep next to me.
“Rem! Rem! Help me, oh God…Rem, please, help me.”
My voice is verging on hysterical as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He turns to me and takes in the sight before him, his deep russet eyes widen.
“Fuck me, beaut.”
I shake my head and I let out a sob. I go to swing my legs out of bed, but I am crippled by a blinding pain that shoots through my abdomen. Remy moves quickly up out of bed and he places his hands under my thighs, scooping me up in his arms, seemingly not caring that he's covered in my blood. He lifts me up and carefully maneuvers me towards the door.
“Shhh, I've got you. It's going to be ok. Look, I'm going to take you to the hospital. You're ok, shhh, I'm here,” he soothes, and I bury my nose into his neck, taking in his calm woodsy scent.
The scent that is uniquely Remy Logan. I cry out as another crippling pain rips through me.
“Shit, I'm going to ring an ambulance. I'm going to put you down for a minute.”
I clasp my hands tighter around his neck.
“No, Rem, please don't leave me, please,” I plead desperately, and he nuzzles his nose against mine.
The only thing I can focus on is the blinding pain in my lower abdomen.
“I'm going nowhere, I promise. I promise I won't leave you, I'm right here.”
He places me down on the bed and I faintly hear him speaking into his phone when everything goes black.
28
Sam
I’m still at Ruby and Jax’s engagement party. After I watched Peyton leave with Remy, I just lost it. I snorted some coke and drank a fuck load of vodka. I’m suitably wasted. When I heard Peyton was alive, I stopped taking my medication, and ever since, I’ve been self-medicating. Not the best idea I’ve ever had, but I feel in control for the first time in my life. I don’t have J.D keeping a constant eye on me, so no one knows, not this time. Not my family, not the boys, no one. My phone starts ringing, and I see Peyton’s number flash up on my screen. I toy with the idea of rejecting it, but morbid curiosity wins out, and I swipe the screen to answer the call.
“Hello? Angel?”
The sound of Remy Logan’s panicked voice instantly tells me that something isn’t right.
“Sam, this is Remy. Look, I’m at the hospital…it’s Peyton, she needs you.”
A look of pure confusion crosses my face. What the fuck?
“What happened?” I ask, and he lets out an exasperated sigh.
She was fine when she left the party, well she had stomach cramps, but I put that down to all that girly shit.
“Look, just...please, get here as soon as you can; I’ll explain then. She’s at the Royal London Hospital.”
With those words, I feel all the colour drain from my face as he hangs up. What the fuck is going on? A frown line jumps into place between Brody’s eyes.
“You look like your fucking puppy just died, dude,” he tries to joke, but I don’t smile. “Mate, you’re freaking me the fuck out, what’s up?”
I swallow a few times.
“It’s Peyton, she’s in the hospital. Logan just called me.”
His eyes widen.
“Come on, let’s fucking go. What are we waiting for?”
The next hour passes in a total blur, and I’m not sure how I get from Neon Nights to the hospital, but I find myself in the corridor outside her room wit
h Remy, Ruby, and Brody. We look oddly out of place still in our fancy-dress outfits. I am dressed as Gambit from X Men, Brody is dressed as Superman, and Ruby is dressed as Elsa from Frozen. As soon as I set eyes on Remy, I know something isn’t right. His arms and his clothes are covered in blood.
What the fuck happened?
“Is someone going to tell me what happened?” I say with a panicked edge to my voice, and as Remy is about to speak, we are joined by a doctor.
The doctor is a tall, lean woman of around mid to late forties, with long ice blonde hair down to her shoulders, light blue eyes, wearing a white lab coat. She has a stethoscope around her neck and a grave look on her face.
“I’m Doctor Fallon Fontaine. Are you Mr. Sam Newbolt?”
I nod.
“That’s right, would someone please tell me what’s going on?” I say as calmly as I can manage, and she takes me to one side.
“Miss Harper has suffered a miscarriage, Mr. Newbolt. I was informed by Mr. Logan that you were the father? I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Her voice is filled with sympathy, and as she says those words, the bottom drops out of my world.
Peyton was pregnant with my baby? What the fuck?
It takes everything I have not to break down right in front of her.
This can’t be happening. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.
“Would you like a moment, Mr. Newbolt?”
I clear my throat, and I suddenly feel stone cold sober.
“No, no, I’m fine. Can I see her?”
She smiles kindly and nods.
“This way.”
I follow her, and I step into the stark, sterile hospital room. An unwelcome feeling of helplessness washes over me as she lies there looking tiny and so fragile. There are wires coming from all directions, and the dull beep of the machines fills the room.
“I’ll leave you to it, Mr. Newbolt.”
The doctor nods, leaving me standing awkwardly next to her bed to come to terms with what I’ve just been told. Peyton was pregnant, she had a life growing inside of her, a life that we created together. Now it’s gone. My head starts to spin, and I drop down into the chair next to her bed as the enormity of the situation hits me like a fucking brick.
We’ve lost our baby.
29
Peyton
My eyes flicker open and I recognise the familiar bright fluorescent lights that greet me. I’m in hospital. This is the second time this week I have found myself here. I turn my head and I see Sam pacing the room like a caged animal.
“Sam?” I say softly, and he stops pacing at the sound of my voice.
He turns to me, and his eyes are red rimmed.
“Angel.”
His voice is thick with unshed tears, and he moves fluidly towards the bed.
“I’m so fucking sorry, this is all my fault.”
What the fuck is he talking about? I think back to the last things I remember: the nightmare about J.D, blood-soaked sheets, and Remy. My thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of a tall, female doctor with blonde hair.
“Miss Harper, I’m Doctor Fallon Fontaine.”
I nod and manage a weak smile. The expression on her face is grim, as if there’s something she isn’t telling me.
“Miss Harper, you’ve suffered a miscarriage.”
As she says those words, my head starts to spin, and I feel like I need to throw up.
A miscarriage? How? I didn’t even know I was pregnant.
“H...how?”
I manage to choke out, and she schools her features.
“You were six weeks pregnant, but there was a chromosomal abnormality.”
I look blankly at her, then at Sam. What the hell does that mean? Sam steps closer to the bed and reaches for my hand. It’s unexpected, but I don’t reject it; I am more than happy to let him. The feel of his warm, calloused hand around mine comforts me.
“Can we get that in English, please?” Sam asks.
His voice sounds almost robotic, as if it doesn’t belong to him. Doctor Fontaine nods curtly.
“Of course. Chromosomes are the tiny structures in each cell that carry our genes; basically, blocks of our DNA. We each have twenty-three pairs of them, one set from the mother and one set from the father. Sometimes, when the egg and sperm meet at the point of conception, the foetus receives too many, or not enough chromosomes. The reasons for this are often unclear, but if one or the other is faulty, the chromosomes can’t line up properly. In that case, the resulting embryo has a chromosomal abnormality, this means that the foetus will not be able to develop normally, and the pregnancy usually results in a miscarriage.”
I let the tears flow freely as I listen to her explain the reason why.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, both of you. If you both require counselling, don’t hesitate to let me know, and I can arrange it for you.”
She smiles sympathetically and leaves the room. The silence in the air is almost suffocating as Sam pulls up a chair and drops down into it. He doesn’t let go of my hand.
Why is this happening?
“Tell me one thing, angel, was that baby mine?”
I breathe in through my nose and try to swallow back the lump that's formed in my throat. I’m struggling to process everything that’s happened, and I can't speak. After all we’ve just been told, all he cares about is if the baby was his? I scramble to try and work out the dates in my head. Six weeks? It was Sam’s, he’s the only person I’ve slept with in the past six weeks. I can't say the words out loud, because I’m so overcome by grief, so I just nod. He looks up to the ceiling and rakes his hands harshly through his hair. He nods and curses to himself.
“Fuck.”
I lean my head back into the pillow, and a tear silently slips down my cheek.
“I'm so sorry, Sam,” I whisper.
“Hey, none of this is your fault. You've got nothing to be sorry for, angel, nothing at all.”
I sob, and he lifts my hand to his face.
“Fuck, you're tearing me apart, angel.”
I gasp out heart rendering hiccupping sobs, and he squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, a lone tear rolls down his cheek. He swipes it away quickly and sniffs.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he says gruffly and runs his hand through his hair.
He kisses the back of my hand and stands to his full height.
“I can’t do this, fuck, I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and those are the last words I hear, from Sam Newbolt’s lips as he turns and walks away.
30
Sam
This is all my fault.
Seeing her so broken, so...overcome by grief at the loss of our baby, it overwhelmed me, ripped me the fuck open. I know I’m a selfish bastard for leaving, but I can’t watch the woman I love falling apart like that. I stride out of the room to the sound of her gut wrenching sobs. Remy, Ruby, and Brody are waiting outside, Brody pacing up and down the corridor like a man possessed.
I know that look, he wants to get high.
“You need to get high?”
He nods, and the look of shame on his face lets me know he’s hurting too.
“I get it, dude, I do, but you're stronger than that.”
He is about to speak as Remy laughs bitterly.
“You’re out here while she’s in there breaking down? Please tell me, you didn’t just walk out on her?”
I hang my head in shame, and he paces towards me his fists clenched.
“YOU’RE FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE, DO YOU KNOW THAT? YOU’RE A SELFISH BASTARD, SAM NEWBOLT!” He roars and grabs his t-shirt in his clenched fist.
“Do you see this? That’s your baby! Her fucking blood! Where the fuck were you? She needed you!”
Ruby steps closer to him and places her hand on his shoulder.
“Rem,” she says softly, and he jabs his finger in my direction.
“This is all your fucking fault, Newbolt! She deserves so much better than you, you prick!
” he says coldly, and I don’t flinch, because I know every ounce of hatred he spits at me is deserved.