Page 83 of Things We Burn

All of the moments with him that I had as evidence that I wasn’t just some other woman. That we were something real. And I held on to something else.

“Whether or not that’s the case,” I said, my voice surprisingly strong despite the tornado of emotions swimming through me. “He also has a right to know something else.”

Brax’s oily gaze remained on me for a few moments before realization dawned in his eyes. They went down to my stomach, full of nothing but a cluster of cells at that point. Yet my hands went there protectively, as if to shield the being inside of me from Brax’s stare.

His eyes darted back up to me. Full of faux pity. “What a pickle,” he tutted. “This makes things … more complicated.” He slapped his hands together, and I jumped at the sound.

Harsh.

He grinned at my jump, satisfied at the evidence that I was on edge.

I glared at him.

“So you see it’s important that I talk to him,” I stated matter-of-factly. Calmly.

He nodded. “I see. Unfortunately, even this…” I had to force myself not to smack him when he waved his hand at my stomach. “Is not enough to override his explicit wishes, I’m afraid. But I will tell him.” He paused, pinching his chin. “You have sufficient documentation, I assume. I apologize that I can’t take you at your word, but this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

I tasted bile. Not just from throwing up in the restrooms thirty minutes ago.

Willing myself to keep my expression even, my posture taut, I reached into my purse.

It took everything inside me to hand the small black and white photo over to Brax. My hands had clutched it even harder once his manicured fingers had fastened around it.

Silly.

It wasn’t even of anything. Barely a speck.

But it had a heartbeat.

That speck.

Our child.

A beating heart. Already.

That little piece of paper was suddenly the most precious thing I owned. Tangible proof of something that felt utterly surreal, terrifying and sacred all at the same time.

I hadn’t even been sure I wanted it until that moment.

Brax pulled harder to get the ultrasound photo into his meaty paws.

He didn’t handle it with care, causing it to crinkle.

I suppressed a growl.

Brax’s eyes lowered to the picture without emotion. “I’ll ensure he gets this, and I’ll be in touch.”

He tossed the photo on the desk like it was nothing more than a receipt.

His blatant disregard for my situation was like poison darts, hitting their mark. I wanted to do more. Demand more. But I was totally powerless at that moment.

I wasn’t Kane’s wife. I had no claim to him. Had no other way of getting in contact with him.

Knox was my only other connection with him, the only person I truly trusted to get this information to him.

But he was ‘in the wind,’ Kane had said when I’d told him I couldn’t reach him.

And I had the impression ‘in the wind’ meant he wasn’t going to be found unless he wanted to be.

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