Bang

  I don’t answer right away as I look into his eyes, eyes that show his concern for me, his love and his caring nature that he’s made me privy to.

  “Yes,” I eventually respond, and he kisses the scars again.

  “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “What’s that?” I question before taking a sip of my hot tea.

  “I want you to leave Bennett,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Declan, I told you, I can’t.”

  “I have an estate in Scotland,” he reveals, “in the countryside of Edinburgh. Come with me. We can disappear.”

  “He’ll find me.”

  “I’ll hire security to watch his moves. We’ll know if he purchases a plane ticket. We’ll know everything he does. I won’t let him get close to you.”

  The lengths this man is willing to go to for me are tempting. Bennett might try to find me, but he’d never hurt me like I’ve led Declan to believe. I immediately start thinking about what it would be like to run away with him. To leave everything behind and start a new life with Declan, far from my past. He’d never need to know because there’d be nothing to threaten the truth from revealing itself. But then I think of Pike. I can’t disappear on him. He’s my family. It’s a nice fantasy, but it isn’t reality.

  “I can’t just vanish,” I tell him.

  He takes my mug and sets it on the bedside table before taking both my hands in his. “Why not?”

  “Because . . .” I shake my head, feigning my overwhelming reaction to his offer. “I mean, you’re asking me to leave behind everything I know. To walk away and never look back.”

  “What is there that you’d want to look back for?”

  “I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

  “We could have a life,” he says softly.

  “But . . . what about your job?”

  “I own the hotel; I don’t run it. This was simply a home base for me while it was under construction. Soon, if the deal goes through, I’ll be working on the London property.”

  I hesitate, dropping my head with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “You love me, right?”

  Lifting my eyes to meet his, I nod, answering, “Completely.”

  “Look, I know what I’m asking of you. And get that you’re scared, but I know what I want, and that’s a life with you. I’ll do whatever it takes to get that.” He moves his hands to my hips and pulls me onto his, my legs straddled on either side of him as he looks up at me. “I never thought I could love anyone the way I love you, but it’s painful, knowing I can’t keep you safe when you aren’t with me. It makes me feel like a piece of worthless shit when I send you home to that bastard.”

  “You’re not worthless,” I tell him as I run my hands through his hair. “But what you’re asking is a lot for me.”

  “I know.”

  “I want what you want, but it all comes with a price.”

  “I’ll do anything to have you. I’ll risk it all.”

  His words should make me happy, but instead, they hurt. I could easily lie to him right now, tell him that Bennett rapes me or some other fucked up shit, and I know Declan would lose his temper and kill the son of a bitch right now, but I don’t. I don’t want to lose him even though I know I will. It’s inevitable, but I feel like I’m a little child, clinging to what makes me happy, desperate not to lose it.

  My thoughts rake at my heart, pricking tears that begin to puddle in my eyes.

  “Baby, don’t cry.”

  The pressure inside my chest causes an ache throughout my body. I’m grieving the loss of what’s sitting in front of me, and it cuts through me allowing the misery to bleed out. Tears fall as Declan watches in silence. He bands his arms around me while my body heaves in breathless cries.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling,” he urges, and when I open my mouth to speak, the words tumble effortlessly from my lips.

  “I hate this. I hate every moment I’m not with you. You’re all that I want, and I hate life for not being fair to us. And I’m scared. I’m scared of everything, but I’m mostly scared of losing you. You’re the one good thing that’s ever come along for me. Somehow, in this fucked up world, you have a way of making all the ugly disappear.”

  “You’re not going to lose me,” he states in a stern voice.

  “Then why does it feel like it’s slipping away?” I weep.

  “It’s not. I promise you, it’s not. You’re just scared, but you have me now. I’ll take all that fear away, every piece of it that you carry around. I’ll take it away. I’ll give you everything you deserve from this life. I’ll do what I can to make up for all your suffering.”

  I let his words soak into the darkest parts of me, the parts that no longer believe in hope, but somehow, his words awaken what was once lost. If walking away from Bennett, leaving the plan behind and sparing his life, would mean a life with Declan, I’d do it. But I’m so torn up about where that would leave Pike. I feel like I’m in a no-win situation. No matter what I do, someone will get hurt. I want to be selfish. I want to keep Declan as my own. I want the fairytale, but once again, I’m having to face the fact that those are simply saved for books. Sometimes, for some people, there’s no such thing as a happily-ever-after.

  Through the tears, I kiss him, needing the closeness. Like a wound, I need Declan to kiss it away and dry my tears. I don’t let up as our lips tangle in a turbulent desire for healing, a desire that we’re both seeking in this very moment. He flips me over onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head with his strong hands. Kneeing my legs apart, he pulls his tongue out of my mouth long enough for me to give him my obedient words of submission.

  “Take me, Declan. However you want me, you can have me. I just need you inside of me right now.”

  And with that, he flips me on my stomach, ties my arms painfully behind my back, and with my ass in the air, he fucks me in a rage of fire. He’s rough and in control, pulling my hair, slapping my ass and thighs, and then, like all the times before, holds my hands tightly in his as my body peaks and explodes into a violent orgasm that only he’s been able to do for me. But he doesn’t stop there. After he unties me, he rolls me to my back, drapes my legs over his shoulders, and feasts on my pussy with slow, loving ease, taking his time as he works my body to perfection until I come for him again. And when I’m done, he sits up on his knees and jerks off, spurting his cum all over my chest, covering me in his scent.

  When my heart settles, I grow tired as I lie safely in Declan’s strong embrace. The warmth of his chest and his arms around my body soothe me into a lull, and I release a sleepy hum as I begin to drift. Declan then shifts to his side, adjusting us so that we’re lying face to face.

  “I’m so tired,” I murmur while Declan lazily strokes his fingers up and down the length of my spine, soothing me into a near tranquil state.

  “Tell me what you dream about,” he asks, looking at me as we lie together.

  “Why do you want to know what I dream about?”

  “Because you’re beautiful when you sleep. It’s the only time you look truly peaceful.”

  I release a soft hum when he urges, “Tell me.”

  “Carnegie.” The truth slips out before I even think about it.

  “What?”

  I take a second, and then decide to give him this piece of the real me, revealing, “He’s a caterpillar who lives in a magical forest. Well, actually, he’s a prince, but his father had the kingdom’s sorcerer turn him into a caterpillar.”

  “And why’s that?” he asks, brushing a lock of my hair behind my shoulder.

  “Because the king was upset that his son kept sneaking out of bed at night to steal juice from the kitchen.”

  “Is that so?” he teasingly questions, but when I don’t give him any hint of a smile in return, he drops it as he scans my face.

  “I’m a caterpillar too; Carnegie’s my friend.” The words hurt coming out as I begin fighting the razor of pain that’s carving its
way through my heart, exposing the blood through my eyes.

  “Why are you crying?” he asks as he watches the tears slip out.

  “Because it’s a lie.”

  “What is?”

  “Dreams. They’re nothing but lies trying to trick me into believing life could really be like that.”

  “Sounds more like a fairytale than a lie.”

  “Fairytale is nothing but a fancy word for a lie used to deceive little kids,” I tell him. “A false perception of reality used to give them hope in a hopeless world.”

  The look in his eyes causes me to close mine so I don’t have to see the sadness he’s feeling for me. Reality is a fucked-up head-trip that I’ve numbed myself to, but my dad, I’ve never been able to control the emotion when it comes to him. He’s always been my one and only soft spot—until now—until Declan.

  “Do you wish you were a caterpillar?” he asks as I feel the warmth of his thumb dragging across my cheekbones, collecting my tears.

  “Yes.”

  Declan’s arms envelop me, and I curl into him when he whispers, “Then go to sleep, darling,” before kissing the top of my head and tucking it under his chin. “Go be a caterpillar.”

  ANOTHER THREE WEEKS have gone by since I’ve seen Pike. Bennett has been home for the most part, and whenever I can find time to slip away, I’m with Declan. I’ve been skirting around giving him a definitive answer on going to Scotland with him, but he’s starting to grow irritated with my avoidance.

  The bitter cold of snowy winter has finally let up, even though the city never seems to get above fifty, even on a good day. A gust of wind picks up, nearly blowing the door right out of my hand as I open it up and head inside the building where Dr. Leemont’s office is located.

  I’ve suffered from excruciatingly painful periods for around ten years; they are what led me to seek medical help, which resulted in my endometriosis diagnosis. About six months ago, I decided to try hormone therapy again to help with the pain but had to quit after a few months due to complications with side effects. Since December, the pain has been much more tolerable but the past few days have been nothing but razor sharp aches and pain, rendering me bed-ridden, practically unable to move.

  Bennett’s been a worried mess, taking off work to stay home, doing whatever he can to comfort me. The soonest I could get in to see the doctor was this morning, which really upset him because he had to go to Miami for business. He was supposed to head out a few days ago, but he refused to leave my side and pushed back all of his meetings, but he couldn’t delay the trip any longer and wound up leaving late last night.

  After signing in, leaving a urine sample for the nurse, and giving blood for the lab, I strip down, covering myself with the provided robe, and wait on the exam table for the doctor. As soon as I told Bennett about my diagnosis, he found Dr. Leemont, ensuring she was the best gynecologist in the state. I’ve been seeing her for over three years now, and when she finally walks in and I see her familiar smile, I release a heavy sigh, hoping she can do something for this pain.

  “Nina, it’s good to see you, although I hear you are dealing with some discomfort,” she says as she walks across the exam room with her electronic notepad and sits down on a stool by the desk.

  “Yes,” I respond. “For the past few days.”

  As she looks at her notepad, she says, “Okay, so I see it’s been about four months since you came off the hormones, correct?”

  “Yes. Around late November, if I recall correctly.”

  “That’s what I’m showing here on your chart,” she remarks and then looks up at me, asking, “Have you experienced any other pain or cramping since coming off the pills?”

  “A little, but it’s been minor. Nothing that a few painkillers can’t take care of.”

  “And do you recall your last menstrual cycle?”

  “Umm, well, it would have been right before I started on the hormones. So . . . back in August or September,” I tell her.

  “What you are probably experiencing is the last of the hormones leaving your system,” she starts saying when a nurse walks in.

  “I have Mrs. Vanderwal’s labs.”

  They both step out of the room, and when Dr. Leemont returns, holding the papers, she walks over to the desk and leans against it. She shifts her eyes from the papers to me, saying in a hushed voice, “You’re pregnant.”

  The deflating of my lungs turns me cold in incredulity. “What did you say?”

  “According to the urine and blood sample, you’re pregnant.”

  Disbelief—that’s all that courses through me right now as I can’t seem to generate any other thought or feeling. I sit here and stare at the doctor for a moment when fear and confusion start to filter in.

  “How?” I ask while each thump of my heart pumps bursts of anxiety through my blood. “I mean, there has to be a mistake because I can’t have kids. I can’t get pregnant.” My voice is almost unrecognizable as the words fall out of me in a trembling stagger.

  Dr. Leemont hands me a tissue, and it’s then that I realize I’m crying. She takes a seat on her stool and rolls over next to me, placing her hand on my knee. “I can’t imagine the shock you must be feeling right now,” she says as I look at her, utterly confused, shaking my head. “Sometimes these things have a way of happening. Is it rare and typically unheard of without having to undergo surgery to remove the lesions? Yes.”

  “But I haven’t even had a period.”

  “Well, the first ovulation you must have had probably ended up being the time you got pregnant, resulting in the missed period and the absence of one since,” she explains, and then the realization that I’ve been having sex with three different men sends me into a complete panic as I go completely numb and freeze up inside.

  Holy fuck! What have I gotten myself into?

  “I want to be upfront with you though,” she says, her voice remaining calm and soothing, a perfect contradiction of the chaos running through my entire being right now. “Because of the lesions on your uterus, the likelihood of you carrying this baby to term might be lower. This will be a high-risk pregnancy because of that.”

  Another wave of confusion hits me when her words spark a swell of sadness in me.

  What the hell is wrong with me? This should make me happy, right? I can’t have a baby, so if my body naturally expels it, then problem solved. So why does the thought of that happening make me sad?

  When I don’t respond, she asks, “Do you need a moment?”

  “A moment?”

  She gives me a nod, saying, “Yes. I’d like to go ahead and run an ultrasound to see how far along you are and get a few measurements of the baby.”

  “Baby,” I whisper, repeating her foreign word.

  “But if you need a moment—”

  “No. I’m fine,” I say, interrupting her.

  “Okay then. I’ll have my nurse call one of the ultrasound techs. She has a mobile station, so you won’t have to switch rooms.”

  Dr. Leemont adjusts the table, allowing me to lie down while we wait. My heart pounds hard against my chest and the sound is all I can hear as I try to sort this all out in my head. I can’t grasp on to a single coherent thought as they all tumble into each other in a maniacal collision, aside from the one piece that remains untouched and clear as day: I’m pregnant.

  The door opens and a young tech wheels in the large machine. She introduces herself, but I remain quiet as I watch her set everything up while she and Dr. Leemont go over my labs.

  Once she’s set up and I lie down, she opens the front of my gown and squirts a warm blob of gel on my stomach. Pressing the wand down, she tells me, “Since we don’t know how far along you are, I’d like to see if we can get a good view of the baby externally. Normally we do an internal exam, but I’d like to try this out first.”

  “Okay,” I breathe as I keep my eyes glued to the monitor screen.

  She begins clicking away on her keyboard while she presses the wand firmly onto
my lower abdomen, almost painfully, but then she says, “There we go,” and my heart stops. “See that?” she asks as she points to the white peanut on the screen, and as soon as she makes the slightest adjustment to the wand, she freezes the screen.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Let me get a couple measurements to see how far along you are,” she says, but holy shit, I can clearly see a head and a belly. Not a tiny blip you often hear about that doesn’t look like anything. I clearly see a baby: head, belly, and four tiny nubs for its arms and legs. She doesn’t even need to dissect the image for me because it’s unmistakable. Never has reality hit me so hard with a truth that’s undeniable.

  “Nine weeks, five days,” she says, and then looks at me with a smile before she turns to look at her conception calendar on the monitor. “New Year’s baby, it looks like.”

  I can’t speak. All I can think right now is Bennett, Declan, and Pike. I haven’t had sex with Pike in over a month, but nine weeks ago, I was having sex with all three of them. God, I’m a sick human being, carrying a baby that could belong to any one of them.

  “I’m showing October tenth for a due date,” she tells me, and then she presses a button and a loud woosh woosh woosh woosh comes through the speakers at a rapid rate.

  “What’s that?”

  “Your baby’s heartbeat.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper again. A heartbeat? It’s so real. So alive. Hearing that fast heartbeat inside of me is almost too much as I lie here, trying not to completely lose it.

  “Good and strong,” she says before turning the sound off and when it disappears, I close my eyes and replay the soothing sound in my head. How is this happening?

  When she’s done, I sit up and cover myself back up with the gown while she prints me off a few photos and hands them to me, saying a happy, “Congratulations.”

  But knowing my situation, and knowing what Dr. Leemont said about me being high-risk, there’s nothing to be congratulating me about. She hands me the pictures, and both she and the doctor step out of the room so that I can get dressed, but I don’t. I just sit here and look down at one of the pictures, a picture that shows a top view: head, belly, and four nubs. A weird laugh slips out through my tears when I compare the baby to a marshmallow.