Page 88 of Hunted Vengeance

“Come sit down,” Lucille says. “Colette is going to pee on a stick, and we’re going to find out together if she’s knocked up.”

God.

The idea that I could be pregnant is absolutely wild to me. It should not be because we’ve not used a single ounce of precaution in all the months we’ve been together. And we’ve had a lot of sex.

A lot.

Leaving Lucille and Nadine, I walk into the bathroom and take the test. I set it down on the counter before I wash my hands and dry them, trying as hard as I can not to look at the results until enough time has passed.

There is a knock on the door, and I hear Lucille call out my name, but I can’t move. I’m frozen, staring at my reflection and trying my hardest not to glance down at the countertop. I don’t want to know, but I’m dying to find out all at the same time.

The door handle jiggles, then the door is pushed open and both Lucille and Nadine move into the small space. They don’t come in any farther, just enough to close and lock the door behind them.

“Have you looked?” Lucille asks.

Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed and spin around to face them. “I’m dying to know, but I don’t want to.”

Lucille smiles, then steps forward, reaches past me, and picks up the stick. I watch as her eyes scan the little window. She doesn’t give me anything, not a damn thing. Her gaze connects to mine, but she doesn’t say anything one way or the other. Instead, she bites the corner of her bottom lip, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“What is it?” I ask.

My whole body jerks as I think about the possibility that it’s negative when all I’ve been able to do is consider it being positive and nothing else. If it is negative, I probably need to go to a doctor because I’ve got something wrong with me, maybe an ulcer or something.

“What do you want it to be?” she asks.

Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed, then open them again and find hers. “Positive. I want it to be positive.”

That’s when Lucille’s lips curve up into a grin. “Then you’re getting what you want, babe.”

She turns the test around, showing me the little screen that readsPregnant. Sucking in a breath, I lift my hands to my lips. I try not to cry. But the tears, they come. They slide down my cheeks almost instantly.

I don’t know what to do. Standing in the bathroom, tears streaming down my face, I feel like I need to do something, say something, go somewhere, but I can’t. It’s literally all I can do to stand here.

Lucille shoves the test into my chest. “Go tell your man,” Nadine whispers.

I grip the test in my hand before I nod. Instead of walking out of the bathroom immediately, I wrap my arms around each of them. I embrace them, hug them, and cry a little more.

“Go and tell Merrick,” Nadine whispers. “He’s going to be so happy.”

I hope she’s right. We haven’t talked about children. Sure, I’ve told him that I wasn’t on birth control when we were married the first time, and he said it didn’t matter, but that was as far as things got.

We didn’t go into any more details and haven’t since getting back together the second time. I don’t know why I didn’t go to the doctor or why we didn’t have this critical conversation. Now I’m pregnant and scared that he’s not going to be happy about it.

“Wish me luck,” I whisper.

Reaching for the handle of the bathroom door, I gently tug it open before I make my way toward his office. I almost feel as if I’m floating on air. I don’t even feel my feet touching the ground.

I knock on the closed door. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times, clearing my throat as I wait. Merrick’s voice calls out for me to enter. I should have waited and gathered myself before I came here.

I take a step backward, my fingers still curled around the handle as I contemplate running. I don’t know where I would go, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. When he calls out for the person on the other side of the door to come in again, I force myself to open the door and step into the office.

Merrick is sitting behind his desk, the same desk that we likely conceived this baby on, his head tipped as he punches his index fingers against the screen of an iPad. I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. I’m gripping that stick I just peed on a few minutes ago like it’s a lifeline.

I stand stock-still waiting for his eyes to lift to mine, and eventually, they do. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes finding and connecting to mine. I watch as he jumps to his feet and hurries toward me.

I’m not sure what I expect, but it isn’t for him to rush over to me. His arms wrap around me before he tugs me against his chest. Tilting my head back, I look up into his eyes, my gaze searching his.

“What’s wrong?” he demands.

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