Page 95 of Beyond Oblivion

I paced a few times, and then took a breath, counted, whatever I could think of to keep my anger from bursting out of me like a fucking alien. “Just… go. I’m taking care of it.”

Thomas took a step toward me. “What’s up with you? You look like you’re about to fight someone.”

I glowered at him. “Get the fuck away from me, Tommy. I don’t wanna upset my wife.”

He paused. “Me? I’m just trying to help, I’m…”

I grabbed his shirt and pushed him backward, all the way into the hall and up against the wall. He grabbed my wrists, his expression half shock, half anger.

“Trent!” Camille called.

“Hazel! Keep her on that fucking couch!” I yelled. “You,” I said to Thomas. “I don’t know who those people are, but you do, Travis does, Lach does… maybe even Abby and Liis, too.Camilledoes,” I seethed. “And she’s getting sick over keeping it from me, the guilt, the worry. She’s fucking pregnant, Tommy! What did you do?”

His expression softened and his shoulders relaxed.

“I asked you a question, damn it!” I said, banging him against the wall again. “Or is it Travis? Why are these people after us?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I let him go with a shove, walking down the hall toward the lobby.

“It’s for your own good,” he said, following me.

I flipped around, pointing at him. “Fuck you, Tommy. Fuck you!” I screamed. “Half the goddamn family knows!”

“Only because they’re directly involved. We didn’t mean for Camille to know. This has nothing to do with either of you.”

“Well, now it does!” I screamed, my entire body shaking.

Thomas held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is happening to you… to Camille. I’d never want to intentionally…”

I waved him away, disgusted. “I don’t fuckin’ care what you want.”

Hazel walked in, eyes wide. “Guys?”

“What?” Thomas and I said in unison, turning toward her.

“There’s blood. She needs to go to the emergency room. Now.”

“I’ll start the car,” Thomas said, rushing out.

I ran to the breakroom, and when I didn’t see Camille on the couch, I hurried to the restroom. She was sitting on the toilet, the panties around her ankles soaked in crimson.

“No,” she sobbed.

I stood her up, helped her with her pants, and then lifted her in my arms, trying my best not to jostle her too much while jogging to the lobby. As I used my shoulder to push open the door, I kissed her forehead. “It’s going to be okay, baby doll.”

I barely had time to get Camille outside before Thomas swung open the back door of his car. We climbed in, and I pulled her onto my lap, cradling her close as Thomas jumped behind the wheel. The engine roared to life, the tires squealing as we sped out of the parking lot, slicing through the streets with a precision that only Thomas could manage.

Camille’s face was pale, beads of sweat trickling down her temples, mingling with the tears that slipped silently from the corners of her eyes. I held her tighter, feeling her trembling against me, my heart pounding with desperation I couldn’t put into words. Guilt thudded in my chest, relentless and sharp. I fought to swallow the lump in my throat and leaned down, my voice breaking as I whispered, “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”

She turned her head away, a pained look crossing her face. “Don’t,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t promise me that.”

The ache in her words cut through me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I brushed back her damp bangs, my fingers lingering against her clammy skin. She wouldn’t look at me, her gaze fixed on the leather that upholstered the passenger seat, her hands clenching the fabric of my shirt as if hanging on to the last shred of control she had.

I looked up, catching Thomas’s eyes in the rearview mirror, his expression as hard as stone, his knuckles white on the wheel.

“Hurry,” I said.

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