Page 48 of Dangerously Deceptive

The midwife gives a small laugh, as she tries to lighten the very sombre mood. “They will get easier. Some insider information here that works. Get a condom and fill it with water. Freeze it, and then once it’s solid, take it out of the freezer, wrap it in a small hand towel, and then place it over your stitches. The condom creates just the right shape, and the towel stops it from freezing against your skin. But it will really help reduce the swelling. And if it hurts when you need to wee, try getting a jug of warm water or a shower hose and as you begin passing urine, pour the water over your stitches. It will lessen the pain instantly.”

“Wow, you really do have all the answers,” I joke, giving her a fake smile to reassure her. She is obviously in here because she has suspicions, but about what, I don’t yet know. So I play along, and to be fair I probably will take all that advice on board. It’s any advice about the baby she has to give that I neither want or need.

“Well, you pick up a lot when you have been doing it as long as me. Which kinda brings me onto what I wanted to talk to you about. The first thing I have to say is that anything you tell me will be kept confidential, unless I think yours or your baby’s life is in danger. I also should tell you that when we start having this conversation, irrespective of how you answer, there may be some questions I ask that don't seem relevant, they may even seem a little offensive, but I have to ask.”

I gulp, hoping she doesn’t see how much my nerves have increased. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, like a ringing sound, as I nod and tell her I understand. She has a job to do, and I better let her do it.

“Shayla, when I was helping you to birth your baby, I couldn’t help but notice you have marks all over your body, in all the areas I could see, including your genital area. They were all healed, but some looked to be fresher than others. Then when the baby was born you struggled to interact with her, not wanting to bond with her in any way. Obviously this isn’t the normal reaction for new mums, but it’s not unheard of. Something is obviously stopping you from bonding with your child, and so I need to make sure you get the help you need. Now that I've told you what I saw, I have a few questions to ask before we talk about what happens next. The first one I have to ask, Shayla, is how you ended up with those marks. Is Kellan abusing you?”

As soon as the words left her lips, I knew this was coming but it still makes me laugh. The idea of Kellan hurting anyone is quite frankly laughable.

“No, he’s one of the sweetest, gentlest men you will ever meet. Shortly before I met him, I was gang-raped by a group of bikers. They used and abused me, beating my body, but breaking me mentally. Kellan helped piece me back together, and when we found out I was pregnant, he stepped up and helped get me the help I needed. I’m able to function on a daily basis because of him.” And I meant that. Kellan is the reason I could get up every morning, and not just lounge the day away in bed, like I did in the early days of me coming back.

Reaching over and gently placing her hand over mine, I see the pain in her eyes. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to say that. “Wow, I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Shay, but I am glad Kellan was able to get you the help you needed. I’m not sure how important the answer to this question is, and you can obviously decline to answer if you would like, but is there a question over the baby’s paternity? I'm just wondering if your inability to bond with her is because you look at her and see the men who did this to you?” she asks, her voice low and soothing. Although I can hear the hesitancy in each word, as she considers if asking these questions is the right thing to do.

I let out a small huff, I wish it was as easy as that. I wish I could just make myself want to hold her, but I’m holding off for a reason! “We did a foetal DNA test. Kellan is the father. I’m not going to lie and say that bonding with her is going to be easy. She came a long way before we were ready for her, and at a time when I feel as though I am only just managing to keep myself afloat. But that doesn’t mean I won’t bond with her. I want to get my head straight first. So, I know as soon as I have the availability, she will get all of me.”

The words burnt my throat, as I told this kind, caring woman exactly what she wanted to hear. Just enough to get her up and out of my room. It’s not going to be long until Kellan gets back and I need to have everything sorted before then.

“I promise you, I’m handling it. If it makes you feel better, you can pass the information to the midwife who will be visiting when I get home. She can keep an eye on me, to make sure I’m getting better, not worse.”

With a small smile and a nod of her head, the midwife agrees. “As long as you are sure, I will go and get everything ready for you to go home. You can always stay if you want some extra help?” she asks, which I politely decline. As she leaves the room, she tells me to press the call bell if me or the baby needs anything.

As soon as she is gone, Jamieson comes out of the bathroom and we waste no more time. We need to be gone before Kellan gets back. But first we both need to make sure we have everything.

“Jay, let’s go through the paperwork, please,” I say as my heart hurts. This is the part I have been dreading the most.

“Okay,” he says, fumbling around in the duffle bag, before pulling out a brown Manilaenvelope. I shuffle onto the bed, and he pulls a chair up, so we can both see the table. He pulls a pen out of the bag and hands it over to me.

“Is this everything?” I ask, looking at the stack of papers he has in his hand, noting the coloured stickers that the lawyer has obviously left to help me know which sections to sign. Kellan has already signed them all without reading them, thankfully.

“Yeah, this is all of them. So this first one,” he hands me over the document he’s referring to, “this is the agreement to sign the house over to you, stating he has to move out immediately and you can keep all the profits from the sale.”

As I scrawl my signature across the relevant lines, my heart breaks because I know how much this one is going to hurt Kellan. He loves that house, and he has the nursery all set up so beautifully. The document does agree he can take any furniture in the house, as long as he can get it out within forty-eight hours. I argued with the Reapers on this one, but the house is worth close to half a million, if not more. It’s beautifully designed. It’s not money they are going to let Kellan keep. Besides, when I told them he only had around two million in his bank account, they weren’t happy. I think they thought he was worth more than that, and so did I. I suspect he has some money I don’t know about, and if I’m being honest, I don’t push him for information. I want him to be able to give our gummy bear the life she deserves, and he can’t do that if I take every penny. So the agreement was to take two million from his bank, leaving him with very little change, and then to take ownership of the house. If I agreed to do that, the Reapers would accept the payment.

I know if I ever get the chance to tell Kellan the truth behind all of this, he will understand. Hell, he loves that little baby so much he would have done it willingly, but I couldn’t take the risk.

The next lot of documents Jay passes me are for the bank. Kellan already added me as a joint subsidiary, and as soon as we are done here, I will take this piece of paper with Kellan’s consent and signature, give it to the bank, and withdraw all of the money. The Reapers have already indicated which account I need to put it into, the signature and written consent from Kellan is to just ensure the transfer goes without a hitch.

The entire time the paperwork was in front of Kel, I was willing him to look down, to properly read what he was signing. I took so many risks, hoping he would find out so I could at least explain this part to him. I know he’s going to hate me anyway, I just hoped if he knew a bit about why I’m doing what I’m doing, he might understand. But it was all just wishful thinking because he didn’t look at them. He didn’t read what he signed. Instead he looked and smiled at me, giving me all the trust I didn’t deserve.

My breath hitches as I sign, and Jamieson puts those back in the envelope he had, before putting it back in the bag. Then he pulls out another envelope, and tears cloud my vision. “Are you sure you want to do this, Shay? I promise you, if you decide you want to keep the baby, I will keep you both safe. I have already started things in motion. Change will happen in the Reaper compound, and I promise to keep you safe.” Each word is powerful and seeps into my pores. My heart aches because I want to believe him. I want to believe that this isn’t the only option. But I can’t raise my child in a Reaper compound, I made that vow when I was a child, and I still plan to honour it now.

As much as it breaks my heart, and it really does, I know I have to do it. With a shaky hand, I pick up the pen, and sign the parts that are highlighted. I don’t bother to read it, I know what the document says. I give up all parental rights. I vow never to make contact or try to be in her life, unless she attempts to make contact with me after the age of eighteen. The legal ruling cannot be undone, I can’t change my mind. I legally name Kellan as the child's father, and have included the foetal DNA test as proof. He is the only person I give legal rights to. If at any time Kellan is deemed unfit to raise her, or he is not present for reasons such as jail, surgery, or death, then he can name someone to take custody of the baby. If nobody is named, then, and only then, can I be contacted to help find someone suitable. But all of this must happen behind the scenes with the lawyers. Not that I think this will ever happen, but I had to get that clause added in. I may have agreed to not raise her, but I will always be her mother. She is my child, and if major changes are happening in her life, and Kellan can’t be her main full-time carer even if it’s just for a temporary time period, I want to have a say on who looks after her.

It’s a clause I literally had to fight my lawyer for. He felt that it would just cause me more pain because even if I found out Kellan had died and couldn’t raise the baby, I still could not become her guardian. These legal documents were binding, and they leave no room for me to change my mind. This is why the system usually puts the child into foster care first, before the adoption paperwork is signed, to give the parents a chance to regret their decision and change their mind. I don’t need that. I already know I will be crippled with regret, but I can’t ever change my mind.

Signing the paper feels like I have literally signed away a piece of myself. It hurts and the regret instantly begins to consume me. Jamieson must notice the change in me, as all I can do is sit there and let the tears fall. As each sob ripples through my body, the grief, sadness, and shame devour me, taking away the last piece of self-respect I had been clutching onto.

Jamieson just leaves me to cry, knowing I need that time to be by myself, and he whirls around the room, packing up our things. He puts my stuff into his duffle bag, and the baby’s stuff into her bag. He keeps pausing every few minutes to coo over her cot. It’s actually quite adorable, and I can’t help but think, if he wasn’t a Reaper, he would make such a great dad. Then again, if we weren’t Reapers, our entire lives would be different.

“Shay,” he gently places his finger under my chin, lifting until I’m facing him, whilst wiping away the tears with his other hand. “I think it’s time to go. Kellan will be back soon and you don’t want to be here then.”

No, I definitely don’t. But I don’t think I can move. My whole body just feels so heavy and broken. If the darkness I can see teetering around the edges were to come all the way in and devour my very soul, I would let it. Not even that, I would encourage it. I don’t think I even want to be a survivor, I just want to be numb.

That’s when it hits me, and I know exactly what I need. I look up at Jamieson, who is holding his arm out to me, offering me his arm to help me up. “Jay, have you got any on you?” I ask, pleading with my eyes and hoping he knows exactly what I mean.

His brow furrow, and the sadness on his face is obvious. He knows what I’m asking of him, and he shakes his head at me before responding with a growl that catches me off guard.

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