Page 189 of The Catalyst

He nods, a grin in place. “Good days and bad, ma’am.” He escorts me into the main sitting room, where we find Nolan with Cora, Michael, and Martin. Martin sends me an easy smile, and he doesn’t seem worried as his father sits there, reading the newspaper like it’s a regular Sunday afternoon.

A soft sense of relief crashes over me from seeing Martin and how his injuries have healed up nicely. He had me worried for a few days, but the doctor reassured me that none of his internal organs were damaged.

Thank God for that.

“Miss Mercer has arrived, sir,” Mitchell announces as if I’m some important guest of honor. I’m just the rag doll Nolan likes to toy with at this point.

The second the words leave his lips, the tension and fury roll off Nolan like a category-five hurricane, and I just know I’m the one who will be hit by the high-force winds.

“My office…now,” Nolan growls as he moves to his feet, grabbing a red file folder off the coffee table before scowling at me like the devil he is.

“Is something wrong?” I ask, but as he reaches me, he wraps his clammy fingers around my bicep and yanks me to him with a yelp from me.

“Very fucking wrong, you stupid whore!” he growls in my face before tugging me behind him, his fingers tightening on my arm.

“What are you doing?” Martin bellows, and I snap my head around, panic gripping me.Martin jumps up to come to my aid and fear rushes through me.

What the hell is happening?

“Martin!” I cry.

“Keep them in here!” Nolan snaps at his security, and fear turns my blood ice cold as I try to fight his hold, but I barely get my arm free and start to run before he grabs my hair and pushes my back hard against the wall in the hallway.

“Just talk to me, dammit!” I growl as his fingers wrap around my throat. “I have no clue what this is about. What did I do that pissed you off so much? Whatever it is, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I try to call to some kind of humanity, sympathy, or general attachment, but the anger on his face is unyielding.

“You don’t know what you did, huh? Is that what you’re going with?” His fingers tighten around my throat, mildly restricting my airways, but I don’t move. I don’t fight him because all fighting does is piss him off even more, and I need him to calm down.

“I honestly don’t,” I wheeze drily.

“You’re…pregnant,” he hisses.

My stomach drops as his eyes turn black with anger.

“You see, Miss Mercer, when you had your accident, they took some of your blood and ran some standard tests. I just wanted to make sure you were the picture of health. Imagine my surprise when I got your blood results to find out that you were already expecting when you had the accident.”

Tears fill my eyes as he squeezes my throat harder but lessens the restriction of my airway. His fingers dig deep into my neck, and I cringe at the feeling.

“Anything to say for yourself now?”

I tremble as I claw at his wrist. He already has the results. There’s no way I can lie my way through this. Plus, he’ll be able to tell I’m lying. “I didn’t have it confirmed. Women get false positives all the time. I was on birth control. I didn’t think it was possible for me to be pregnant.”

His eyes lighten slightly, and his grip loosens a bit.

“It’s not going to be a problem, I swear. No one will even know about this. I have a plan in place. It won’t embarrass you or your family at all. You can trust me on that,” I plead for him to understand this once and let me handle things, but his eyes harden once more.

“Did you have an abortion?” he asks, his voice level and clear. Calm. Calculating.

“No!” I gasp at his question. “Please, Mr. Gray. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to. I’ve gone to your parties and pretended to love Michael out in public. I signed the contract. I’ve kept my mouth shut about your secret. I’m trying my best to accommodate what you ask of me. All I want is to bring my baby into this world. I won’t be raising them at all. If you don’t want me to have any contact, I won’t just…please.”

“No,” he growls as his eyes narrow to slits. “You will get rid of that fucking bastard if I have to carve it from your womb myself. And you will do itnow.”

Pictures of what could be flash through my mind. A little boy with black hair and icy blue eyes running around a small yard with bright green grass and big, shady trees with an adorable laugh flashes through my mind, and my maternal instinct kicks in.

With no real thought except the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I slam my knee into his groin and knock him back with my elbow to his nose before I run for my fucking life.

For the life of my son.

My feet don’t even make a sound as I sprint down the hall, digging my phone out of my pocket as I go. The liquid speed in my brain pushes me faster and makes me more capable of multitasking as I dial Ollie’s phone number. I put the phone to my ear as I turn the corner with no real clue where I’m going.

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