Page 115 of Release Me

I’m not ready, but I nod anyway. The door swings open, revealing Nadia’s prone form in an oversized hospital bed that swallows her whole. Chantel didn’t lie when she said the bruises were bad. They’re everywhere. On her face, her neck, her arms. And there are so many wires. An IV in her hand, a blood pressure cuff wrapped around her bicep and a blue, elastic band wrapped around her midsection with a small white clip attached to it.

It’s only as I’m looking at that strap that I hear it.

The thump, thump, thump of our baby’s heartbeat filling the room.

41

NADIA

God started answering my prayers again.

I don’t know when He decided to tune back in to my life, but I’m glad He did because otherwise I wouldn’t be alive and neither would my baby. Beau came there to kill us. I saw the determination in his eyes when he stood over me, felt it in the force of his fist the first time it collided with my face and in every punch and kick that followed. By some miracle, and for reasons I’ll never understand, he didn’t follow through with his plan. Maybe he thought I was dead. Vince certainly seemed to think so because when he dragged Beau out of the bathroom, and back to whatever circle of hell they both somehow reside in, he kept saying it.

You killed her. Fuck, Beau, you fucking killed her.

I didn’t think I was dead, but I did think I was dying, and for the first time since my parents died, I shunned death. Ran from it. Hid from it. Sought out life and found it inside me, nestled in my womb. I curled myself around it and waited, praying to be found, to be saved, praying to live.

Almost two weeks later, and I’m still healing, still hurting, still grateful for the pain that means I’m alive and the man who got me to the people that made sure it stayed that way. Sebastian hasn’t left my side since the day of the incident, which is as adorable as it is annoying. Adorable because he cares so much. Annoying because I can’t so much as change the channel on the TV without him asking why I’m holding the remote.

I know that he’s concerned, but I’m feeling smothered, which is why I’m currently shuffling down the hallway towards our bedroom on my own while he’s in his office having some top secret meeting with Russ that apparently couldn’t wait until after the shower Sebastian promised to help me with when we got home from the hospital this evening.

Common sense says I should wait for Sebastian because I haven’t done this much physical activity in weeks, but the itching and the smell coming from my scalp says going another moment without hot water and a ton of shampoo might finish the attempt Beau made on my life. I find myself wishing for Zoe’s skillful hands and gentle laughter as the full scope of what I’m about to do hits me. Winded just from walking down the hall, I pause just outside the closed door of the room Sebastian and I share and try to catch my breath, realizing that I don’t just miss Zoe’s hands, I miss Zoe. And Madeline, and Luca. I miss Andreas and Everett and Desiree.

I miss everyone and everything that makes my life in New Haven feel whole.

When they learned about the attack, and the dialed back version of the secrets from my past that led to it, everyone reached out, sending flowers and well wishes, offering to get on the next flight to Los Angeles to sit at my bedside and give Sebastian a break. He shut those offers down, knowing I wouldn’t want anyone to see me all bruised and banged up, and that it would be hard to keep the news about the baby under wraps with everyone hovering inside my hospital room.

After all the bleeding, which led to me being diagnosed with placenta previa, Sebastian and I both agreed to wait a little longer to share the news of the pregnancy with our family and friends. With all of my other business out in the open, it feels nice to have at least one secret between us.

“What are you doing back here?” Sebastian asks from behind me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I turn toward him with wide eyes and a repentant smile that does nothing to dislodge the disapproving frown pulling the corners of his mouth down.

“Looking for you?”

He cocks a brow. “Did you suddenly forget where the office is?”

“No.” I cross my arms and lean against the wall, trying to look casual even though Sebastian is seeing right through me and it suddenly hurts to breathe and stand at the same time. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because you walked right past it, precious.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian shakes his head, closing the space between us just in time to catch me when the pain in my ribs makes me light headed. He scoops me up in his arms, cradling me gently against his chest.

“You were supposed to wait for me to help you shower, baby. You promised you would.”

I let my head rest in the crook of his neck and sigh. “I know, but I couldn’t take the itching any longer.”

“Itching?” he asks, turning around and heading away from our bedroom.

“Yes, my scalp is itchy, Sebastian, I need to wash my hair.”

“I’m going to wash your hair for you, precious.”

“Then why are you carrying me away from our room?”

We’re passing through the living area now, heading to the other side of the penthouse where the guest bedrooms are. I haven’t spent any time back here, and as far as I can tell, Sebastian doesn’t either.

“Because I had all of our stuff moved over here,” he says, kicking the door to a bedroom that’s similar and size and layout to ours open. “I couldn’t go back in that room,” he continues as he carries me into the bathroom and carefully lowers me onto the counter between the dual sinks. “And I figured you wouldn’t want to either.”

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