Page 100 of Seizing Control: Part Two

Feigning a yawn, I cover my mouth with my palm.

Nadia shoots me a knowing glance, her wide grin almost giving me away. She’s timing the pains for me, her nursing experience coming in handy as I do my best to pretend that everything is fine. Thankfully, Crystal is more concerned with her stubborn son than she is with my brazen best friend, so she misses me narrowing my eyes to silently tell Nadia to play it cool.

I am not raising the alarm until I’m certain that I’m in labour.

Once I’m in my bedroom, slightly out of breath from climbing the stairs, I settle Garrett into his crib with his Winnie the Pooh mobile turning above his head. Leaning over the side of the cot, I offer him my pinkie finger to hold. He squeezes tight, a strong little man already, sucking his pacifier like it’s his job. I watch his ice-blue gaze track Winnie and Tigger’s movements until his eyes roll back in his head as he gives in to his tiredness. As always, when I look at my son, a rush of love surges through me. He is so perfect. A blessing. An eternal reminder that life doesn’t always have to be hard.

It breaks my heart to witness his father ignoring him.

I underestimated Slash’s loathing of the Maddisons.

He refuses to budge on his decree.

Garrett doesn’t exist to him.

“How long since the last one?” Nadia whispers as she lets herself into my bedroom.

“At least, half an hour.”

“Do you think she’s replied yet?”

Carefully extricating my finger from Garrett’s grip, I try to kiss his forehead, but my stomach gets in the way. I stroke his soft cheek instead. Swiping my phone from my bedside table, I open up the Instagram app, and swipe into my inbox. All-seeing Skye’s name is bold, indicating that she’s replied to my unsolicited message.

“Holy hell, she’s sent something back.”

Fear and hope combine inside my chest, a horrible shot of adrenaline that makes me light-headed, giddy, and nauseous all at once. I hold the phone to my heart, afraid to look at her response. As a sharp pain ricochets through the bottom third of my stomach, I waddle over to my bed. The mattress sags under my weight, making me bounce slightly as Nadia plonks down next to me.

“Ooofft.” I lay the phone down on what’s left of my lap to press my palm to my belly. “That was nasty.”

“Another pain?”

“Yeah.” I incline my head as I exhale slowly.

“We needa go... I’ll get Crystal.”

“No. You got Doc to check me out this morning. He said it’s time to touch base with my midwife once they’re coming regularly. Right now, it’s just my body getting ready for the birth.”

“Doesn’t hurt to keep an eye on things.” Nadia makes a note in her phone. “I’ll get Doc over again if they get any closer... and Crystal...”

The knowing look I pin her with has no effect on my best friend.

She’s acting like I don’t know my husband is also keeping tabs behind the scenes.

Even if he can’t let go of his pride long enough to tell me that himself.

“Whooo boy.” I breathe through another cramp that ripples through my stomach.

“I am never having children,” my best friend announces. She grabs my phone from my lap and opens it. A wrinkle appears between her eyebrows, her mouth a tight line. The look she hits me with kills my hope. “What’a crock of shit. All she sent was a link to a new post.” Nadia jabs at the screen, annoyance emanating from her as her eyes scan from left to right. Angling the phone, she points at the image of my father on his Harley. “See this... she’s just toyin’ with you. That road is neutral territory.” I follow her finger as she indicates the street sign. “Like, why would she send this? It tells us nothin’, and just makes her come off like a bitch.”

My hopes are dashed as it becomes clear that our brilliant idea to message Skye to see if she had any clue about what’s going on at the moment. She’s obviously more interested in shit-stirring than she is in helping solve the issues in the underworld. Seeing that Nadia is as disappointed as I am, I metaphorically button my lip.

Her temper is volatile at the best of times.

She’s extra sensitive right now while I’m struggling emotionally.

Laying back on my bed, I hold my belly with both hands as I kick up my legs, one at a time. My best friend wisely looks away, doing her best not to laugh at my beached whale impression.

“I’m really tired,” I lie as I feel my stomach harden again. These pains are basically running into each other now, yet they’re not presenting the way my midwife said they would. “Thinking I might have a nap while the little man sleeps.”

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