I study his features. The clenching jaw. The way his nostrils flare with anger. How his narrowed eyes scrutinize me. I don’t know this man. The boy who hugged me earlier and cried into my hair when he thought I was leaving him, I know him. This guy though, the asshole, I can’t even begin to understand who he is and I certainly don’t like him a bit.
“I don’t want it to be easy on him, believe me. But he needs to pay for what happened to me and what he did to those I love. I want him to think about what he’s done every day in a tiny prison cell for the rest of his life. Once we get what we need from him, we’ll call the police.” My voice is firm and unwavering. I’ve thought a lot about this. Brandon and I are just two young adults. We’re not killers. I won’t let him kill for me and I certainly want to be a good parent to my future child. Murdering someone, even the devil, is a bad start to motherhood.
He scoffs at my words. “The police? We can’t get them involved. We’ve been through this, babe. They think you’re involved in War’s murder.” He bares his teeth slightly as the last word rolls off his tongue. It cuts me deep and affects me more than being accused of the one who did it. “Remember?”
Murder.
Murder.
Murder.
The world spins around me and my belly rumbles as my dinner threatens to make a reappearance. I swallow to keep from throwing up and hiss at him. “How could I forget? I was there. Remember?” Tossing his word back at him, I meet his glare before I start scooting out of the booth. “I need to go to the ladies room.” Snatching up my purse, I hightail it past the flirtatious waitress and into the bathroom.
Once inside with the door locked, I slip into the stall and open my purse. Tears roll down my cheeks and drip from my face as I hunt for the pregnancy test I’d purchased. On autopilot, I open the test, and follow the instructions in taking it. Once I do, I sit on the restroom floor as I wait for the result. My eyes close and I think about War.
He really is dead.
No denying that now.
It’s been completely confirmed.
As if that weren’t excruciating enough, the police think I was involved, too. I would never hurt him. Ever. Surely I can speak to them—find Land and have him vouch for me. I didn’t kill War and they’ll soon be able to prove that. Gabe will go to prison for his sins. Everything will work out.
I glance down at the test on the floor beside me. I’d splurged on the easiest to read, most expensive test. Brandon sent me in with a wad of cash and I bought the best.
One glimpse at the one grey word on the display screen tells me what I already knew in my heart. Tears blur the bathroom around me and I let loose a flood. My body aches and I cry until I’m hyperventilating.
Pregnant.
This baby has no father.
This baby only has me.
I’m not completely alone in this world.
What if this baby is Gabe’s?
The terrifying thought has me clutching my stomach in absolute disgust. There’s no way. This baby is in no way his. For one, the shot lasts for three months. I’d been given the Depo shot about a month before Gabe took me, which meant it would have worn off while I was with War. I know for a fact I had a normal period not long after coming to stay with him at his beach house.
This is mine and War’s baby. Not Gabe’s. No damn way.
I sob for a good twenty minutes before I find the strength to pull myself back together. This baby needs me now. I’m going to figure it all out for my little one.
On shaky legs, I stand, deposit the test and packaging into the trash, and then wash my hands and face in the sink. Carefully, I take my time smudging on some of the new concealer and base I’d purchased to hide my red, puffy face. Once I look halfway composed, I leave the bathroom.
I crash into a solid, warm chest. Arms wrap around me and I shiver.
“Everything okay?”
No. Everything is not okay.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just tired.”
Satisfied by my answer, he releases me and saunters over to the waitress who’s carrying a takeout bag. Wordlessly, we head back to the truck and make our way back to the cabin.
As soon as Brandon heads for the shower, I carry the food into the kitchen to once again attempt to coax answers from Gabe.
“Who killed your puppy?” he greets as I set the bag on the counter and set to opening his food.
“Enough with the games, Gabe. Tell me where Dad is.”
He watches me with furrowed brows as I bring a chicken strip over to him. His nostrils flare, inhaling the greasy meat, and he groans. I wave it near his mouth but don’t get close enough for him to bite.
“Never took you for a torturer, sweetheart,” he says with a hint of grumpiness in his voice.
“And I never took you for a rapist murderer but here we are.” I break the chicken piece in half and raise a brow at him. “You want food, you talk.”
He frowns. “I don’t know where Tony is.”
I toss one half of the chicken into the hole and revel in the horrified way he stares after it. “Wrong answer.”
“Fucking hell, woman. Just give me the goddamned chicken. I’m starving over here.”