It was too late.
The bag hit the ground with a thud and the contents spilled all over the ground – right at Chase's feet. I looked up at him at the same time he looked down, and the look on his face made my heart sink into my stomach. It sent waves of fear and resignation rolling through me. The look on his face was one of pure panic. His eyes were wide and held a light in them that was almost angry. His jaw was clenched and his body was tight. He turned those eyes to me and when he spoke, his tone carried a hard edge, and a tremor of uncertainty to it.
“Abby, do you – are you – ”
“I don't know yet, but maybe?” I whispered, cutting him off. “I might be.”
I bent down to pick up the pregnancy tests off the ground, my heart thundering in my chest, my throat as dry as the Sahara, and waves of despair washing over me. I collected them all, put them back in the bag, and then looked at Chase, dread already filling my heart.
“Listen, Abby, we need to talk,” he said softly. “I'm not ready to be a father. Hell, I don't think I'd make a very good one, to be honest. I'd hate to subject a kid to somebody like me.”
The tears were back, stinging my eyes. Fat and warm, the tears rolled down my cheeks, and I just let them flow. Nothing I could to do stop them anyway. As I stood there before him, I trembled so hard, the pregnancy test kits were rattling inside the bag in my hand. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself, but it didn't work. I was still as freaked out, terrified, and despondent as I had been.
The kick in the ass is, I knew that was what he'd say if I turned out to be pregnant. I already knew Chase wasn't ready to be a father. I honestly didn't know if he ever would be ready. I knew that on an intellectual level. But, it still hurt me to hear those words coming out of his mouth. It hurt to know that I'd have to make a choice if the test turned out to be positive.
A choice between my child or the father of my child – the man who was protecting me from my ex. I took another long, deep breath and let it out slowly. Gradually, my nerves stopped jangling and my heart slowed its furious pace. I felt a sense of calm. Nothing was certain. Nothing was set in stone. There was no use in the both of us working ourselves up over what could turn out to be nothing.
“I know, Chase,” I said. “But let's just wait and see, okay? I may not be, so let's not jump to any conclusions.”
“God, Abby,” Chase said, scratching his beard. “I'm – we need to talk about this.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “Trust me, I know. But I didn't want you to find out like this. I wanted to know for sure and have something concrete to say before I got you all stressed out about something that hasn't been confirmed and may not even come to pass, for all we know.”
“Well,” he said and gave me a crooked little smirk. “Cat's out of the bag now.”
A rueful grin touched my lips. “That it is.”
CHAPTER NINE
CHASE
I felt like I'd been kicked in the balls at the same time as all the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. My head was spinning and everything felt completely surreal. As I stood there looking at the pregnancy test kits in her bag, nothing even felt real to me.
I wasn't ready to be a father. Truth be told, I didn't think I ever wanted to be a father. I was so fucked up as a person, subjecting a kid to me would be cruel. More than that, it would be wrong. If Abby turned out to be pregnant, I had no idea what I was going to do or what was going to happen.
But, she was right. No sense in putting the cart before the horse. Until we knew for sure that she was pregnant, getting all worked up about it wasn't going to do anybody any good.
I put my arm around her shoulder and started to steer her back toward the house. Part of me wanted to just sit and have a cup of coffee with her and talk about mundane things. She and I had a real connection. It was strong and it was deep. In a lot of ways, being with her felt like a puzzle piece in my soul had been snapped into place – a piece I never even knew I was missing.
I'd tried to resist Abby for as long as I could. In the end, though, my will to keep her out had simply vanished. I craved her in ways I hadn't craved anybody before – and I only wanted more.
As we walked across the driveway toward the house, the sound of the tarps in the back of my truck rustling drew my attention. I looked around and noticed that there wasn't a breath of wind stirring. The next thing I saw was somebody – a man – jumping out of the bed of the truck. A man who'd obviously been hiding back there and who was holding a Glock 9mm, the barrel pointed directly at us.
I quickly stepped forward, putting myself between the gunman and Abby. He was tall, easily a bit over six feet, had broad shoulders, dark hair, and gray eyes. His skin was sallow and pale, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he had a nearly crazed look about him.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You're Paul.”
I felt Abby stiffen behind me and felt her hands clutching the back of my shirt. She let out a small squeak and I heard her breath catch in her throat. She was terrified – and, obviously, with good reason.
“And you must be the asshole she's fucking,” he sneered. “The asshole she's cheating on me with.”
“Last I heard, you two were broken up,” I said.
He took a couple of steps toward us, the gun thrust out in front of him, a malignant gleam in his eyes. His face was etched with rage. Etched with hate. I had no trouble believing he'd pull that trigger in a heartbeat. Which was why I knew I needed to keep him talking. Keep him distracted – at least, until I could work the situation to my advantage and disarm him.
More than anything though, I needed to keep him away from Abby. I needed to keep his focus off her completely, if possible. I'd take the rage and the hate. Hell, I'd take a bullet if it meant keeping her safe.
“You heard wrong, cocksucker,” he said.
I shrugged. “I think beating a woman the way you beat Abby kind of means you're not allowed to tell her what she is and isn't going to do anymore,” I say. “You kind of surrendered the moral high ground there, Paul.”
“Fuck you,” he sneered.
“Not to mention the fact that you look like a big, strappin' kind of guy,” I said. “Which means, you beating on a little thing like Abby pretty much makes you not only a coward but an absolute pussy to boot.”
He raised the gun so it was pointed directly at my head. I saw his knuckle whitening on the trigger. But, I'd been in some nasty places while I served, dealt with nastier people than this prick. If he thought he could intimidate me, he was so wrong it wasn't even funny.
“Let's see how much shit you talk with a bullet in your face,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
“Probably not a lot, to be honest,” I replied.
“Abby,” Paul said. “Come on. We're going.”
She clutched my shirt tighter and buried her face in my back. Her body trembled and the sound of choked sobs escaped her.
“I don't think she wants to go with you, Paul.”
“Fuck you,” he snapped. “Shut your fucking mouth. This doesn't concern you.”
“Actually, it does concern me,” I said. “There's a chance that Abby is carrying my child, and – ”
“Shut the fuck up. I heard already,” he snapped at me. “I also heard you say you're not ready to be a dad. That you're some boo-hoo, broken man who shouldn't be exposed to kids. What a candy ass. Suck it up, we've all got problems, shithead.”
The anger welling within me was dark and abiding. I narrowed my eyes and felt my jaw clench. Paul was pushing me. If he pushed me too far, it was going to be bad for him. Very bad. Yeah, he might be the one holding the gun, but he wasn't the one trained in hand-to-hand combat. Once I baited him into the right position, I could use it to my advantage and disarm him.