Page 30 of Ruthless Beasts

“You’re still going with that? Even after I watched our child on that screen move around? Saw its heart flicker?”

I swallowed twice. The lump lodged there, making it impossible to get words out for a moment. “Our?”

“I said what I said. Are you not my wife?” His voice held no emotion, and it was terrifying. He was here with me, present physically, but even as he spoke, he was somewhere else.

“I am.” Technically. Though I didn’t dare speak that part.

“Then it’s a nonissue. We’ll take care of it.”

Take care of it? As in…

Tears streamed down my face faster than I could wipe them. I raised my arm, trying to wipe them away, but they wouldn’t stop as I stood there, silently sobbing. I couldn’t just take care of it. I didn’t want to. I may not have liked the circumstance, but the baby was still a piece of me and?—

“Why the hell are you crying?” he groaned, clearly annoyed that the new wife was emotional.

“It’s just-“I sniffed and wiped my face. “I don’t want an abortion. I- I can’t go through with it. Especially now after seeing the baby and?—“

“Belle.” He cut me off as he took a step toward me, his hand raised to touch my face. I flinched, and he dropped it. “I didn’t mean abortion. God, I’d never suggest that. I’m many things, Belle. Call me a monster, say I’m a beast, even accuse me of murder… but never suggest I’m cruel enough to harm a child in any form.”

“You don’t want an abortion?” I knew my lip was quivering, but damn if I could stop it.

“I said we’ll take care of it, and I mean it. It’s our child, between the three of us and you; we’d protect it with our lives.”

“You want to?—“

“Yes. You’re my wife. Which means that’s my child. Do I need to spell it out for you?”

I angered him. I could see that. But even angry, I suddenly wasn’t afraid of him like I had been a few weeks ago.

I’d seen him murder men, stain my white dress with splashes of their blood. I knew what he was capable of, and yet, I didn’t think he’d hurt me. Not now, definitely not in this state, but even not pregnant. He hadn’t hurt me, yet.

“You’re not kicking me out?” I asked, just to be sure.

“Is there anything more than finding out my wife is pregnant that I should know about?”

I pulled at my wet sleeves, soaked from my tears. “No.”

Besides the father of the baby. But he’s dead and if I was lucky, the grandfather wouldn’t come for us.

“Then let’s go.” He held out his hand toward me, waiting for me to take it. I’d not done that before, not touched him, reached for him, tried to take the comfort he gave. I didn’t know he could offer it, not when he walked around stern, always sulking and barking orders. Still, I let my hand find his, and for the second time in thirty minutes, I held the hand of someone offering me comfort instead of drawing out my pain.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ACE

My sister had panic attacks when we were young. Her breath would come out in pants and her body would shake and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing I could do to stop it, but hold her hand and tell her to focus on one good thing. One good thing because in our lives, we didn’t have more than one. That was before, before she died five years ago, before we spent half our childhood separated, before I realized that life got no easier.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel quite as numb as usual.

I held on to the paper in my hand, trying not to create creases, but trying to wrap my mind around what I’d seen. It wasn’t Adam’s first time in a room like that. He’d gone to every appointment with my sister, always at her side. But it was mine, and my mind didn’t know how to compute that what I was seeing was real when so many things seemed to be an illusion in my life.

It’s not yours.And I fucking knew that. But even when I replayed that statement, I couldn’t help but think about how it could be, maybe a little.

So much had happened in my life over the last five years, and I was thankful I had Mercer and Adam to hang onto, but as much as I cared for them, called them my family, there was something missing. Was the squeezing in my chest trying to tell me that this child, this girl, this was it? But she was Adam’s, and I needed to remember that, even when his offer was given with such confidence.

“That was the hardest secret I’ve ever kept,” Mercer blew out as he reached forward, taking an appointment card from the receptionist.

“She told you?” Why did that anger me so much? She could have trusted me, too. But even as I thought it, I didn’t believe it. Why would she trust me when I gave her every reason not to? Trust worked both ways, and if I refused to let her touch a knife, how would she feel confident trusting me with her secrets?

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