Page 187 of The Catalyst

I’ve seen that look before, but the eyes that had it before were not an ocean blue. No, they were lighter and icier.

“Yes.”

He nods, but then, I get to my own point.

“I see where Oliver gets it from, the ability to do whatever he needs to for his end goal. I see it in your eyes,” I quip, but he doesn’t try to touch me. In fact, he drops his hold on me and for the first time, I have surprised him.

“You know?”

I smirk. “Yes, I do. He’s your nephew. Your deepest, darkest secret. I know it. The town psychopath is a Gray by blood. Much like Martin, I know how to keep a secret, but in a way not too unlike you, I can also hit someone where it hurts without ever getting my hands dirty. Back in Hempstead, they called me The Queen of Petty for a reason and it doesn’t break any of your rules to tell the world your secret, Mr. Gray. I will make you a deal, though. If you keep your filthy hands off of Martin, no one will know your secret. However, if I see so much as another scratch on him and I don’t believe that he accidentally cut himself while shaving, dot, dot, dot.”

Martin told me that as long as someone is completely alone with Nolan, he would not retaliate no matter how he is spoken to. And, I took that to heart.

“There is one thing more vile and vengeful than a man with a bruised ego. It’s a woman willing to go scorched Earth for the people she loves. You are looking at the dictionary definition of that, Mr. Gray. Now, dowehave a deal?”

He stares at me for a moment as the color slowly returns to his face before he nods. “Fine. You have a deal, Miss Mercer.”

“Good.” I smile. “Now, if you would be so kind as to send your doctor to my hotel room, Martin needs medical attention.”

I just leveled the playing field and I feel just a little better about my circumstances. Only a little though.

CHAPTER 73

OLIVER

“Are you ready, Miss Mercer?” the dumbass doctor asks as he walks into the exam room, where Beth lays on the table like she has every other time we’ve come in for a check-up. She squeezes my hand as she nods.

She’s starting to show. It’s not much. Most people will assume that she’s just gained some weight, but a select few of us know the truth. We first saw the little cluster on the ultrasound machine five weeks ago, and now, apparently, the doctor thinks he should be able to tell the sex of the baby. I’ll believe it when the little prick comes out and greets us instead of just making its mother puke up her guts every morning.

She sends me a nervous smile as the doctor powers up the machine.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s no big deal, just the sex of my baby.”

The only thing that changes is if I’m referring to the semen demon asheorshe. It’s still a little crotch goblin.

Beth does not like it when I refer to our unborn child so vulgarly, especially when I call itvagina vomit. She should be used to my crassness by now. I have called that thing every name under the sun at this point, and maybe a part of that is because it’s odd to think I’ll have a kid in a few months. There’s going to be someone in this world with a natural sense to look up to me. And that’s plain fucking weird. I’m not someone to be looked up to. Never have been. Never will be.

Beth makes me want to be, and that’s the only thing I don’t like about our dynamic. I give her all my depraved and demented. She gives me all her bratty and greed. I’m aware that it’s toxic, but I don’t give a flying fuck.

The doctor gets set up and pulls Beth’s shirt over her stomach. When she’s standing, you can’t see anything, but lying down, it looks like there’s a small ball under her flesh.

I smirk as the doctor pours gel on her stomach before putting the wand on her belly and moving it around. Her breath catches when the fuck trophy appears on the screen, looking more like an alien than they did two weeks ago.

I really hope their head becomes more proportionate to their body. If it doesn’t, even I’ll be making fun of the vagina nugget for more than just the nicknames I use.

“Everything looks good,” the doctor says in his gravelly voice that grates on every one of my nerves. “Let’s just see if they will let us peek between their legs.”

And that didn’t sound pedophilic at all!

I glare at him as his eyes stay glued to the screen, and he moves the wand across her stomach before he lets out a hum.

“What?” I hiss with irritation, and Beth slaps my arm.

“Your child is rather large for this stage of gestation, but it’s nothing to worry about. He will even out before the birth.”

Beth lets out a small gasp as she squeezes my hand. “He?”

“Yes, he. It’s a boy in the eighty-five percentile. You must be feeding him well,” the doctor jokes before putting up the wand and handing Beth a washcloth to clean off her stomach.

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