Page 19 of Avenging Devil: Part 1

After a moment to compose myself, I tell them, with a quiver in my voice, “None. If he’s born alive, he won’t have any functions. He won’t be able to breathe on his own, eat, digest food, defecate or anything.” That’s all I can get out before I howl. Literally howl. Falling forward, my arms still hug my middle as if protecting my poor baby. While I bear most of the guilt inside, I also blame Duke. He’d kicked me so hard, it had to have caused damage. Or maybe it’s down to the drugs he forced on me?Forced? I took them willingly, but who wouldn’t, given my state?

I wish it were me bearing the consequences, but it’s not. It’s my poor baby, my child,who I already love more than my life.

Niran stands, crosses the couple of steps needed, then crouches at my feet and hovers his hands over my knees. “Look at me,” he demands, so commandingly I have no option but to obey. When his hands lower, I realise he’s touching me.For some reason, I don’t protest. “Fuck, darlin’, that’s some hard shit for you to handle.”

There’s something in his eyes, sympathy as I’d have expected, but something more. A respect for the momentous decision that’s been thrust on me. No censure, but then he doesn’t know it’s my fault.Despite my self-recriminations, my hands seem to move by themselves, uncurling from their position and reaching for him as if I deserve to take comfort. When he takes them in his, I squeeze tight, as though needing to hold on to something. He might be a man, but there’s a protective vibe about him that doesn’t scream I need to take caution. He’s looking into my eyes, not my breasts, and not showing any signs of disrespect.

“The baby will suffer if he’s born?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.

“Could he be suffering now?”

The thought makes me suck in a sharp breath, but again I tell him the truth, “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone can tell.” The deformities described to me might mean he’d never feel anything at all—pleasure, pain, or anything in between.

Softly stroking the fingers he’s holding, Niran gentles his voice. “What do you want to do, darlin’? What does your heart tell you?”

It was my stupid darn heart that got me into this mess in the first place. It may be the organ that keeps me alive, but it’s the one I can’t trust anymore, not after it let me fall for Duke. “That I should continue and hope they’re wrong.” I try to sound firm, but my voice trembles, and my body shakes.

Silence descends, neither of them telling me that’s unlikely. Unlikely? Impossible. I’ve seen the scans for myself, and today the doctor had patiently explained them, along with the blood test results.

Niran moves again, but in a way that’s completely non-threatening. He stands, pulls me up, then sinks down where I was sitting, pulling me onto his lap and letting his arms surround me. I should feel trapped, but I don’t. When I start crying again, he smooths my hair, and just murmurs incomprehensible words to me. His hand lightly covers the back of my head, letting me sob into his shirt, uncaring of the mess I’m making.

I should be scared. I never wanted to get close to another man, knowing my sixth sense about them has led me so terribly wrong, but his touch is soothing, his concern genuine, and nothing about this is remotely sexual. Neither on my part nor his, as I can’t feel any masculine stirring under my butt.

I hear Mary speaking quietly. “She shouldn’t be alone, Niran. Not tonight.”

“I know, I’ll stay with her.” I both feel and hear his words.

I’m surprised at how his pronouncement gives me strength. Instead of protesting I’m fine by myself, I realise I don’t want to be alone. The mental pain is worse than anything physical Duke ever put me through, and I’ve no idea how I’ll cope.

Until that moment, I hadn’t recognised how alone I was, and how much I was dreading how to action any decision I make. If I take the sensible course and return to the hospital to voluntarily lose my baby, I’ll be driving myself. Now I start wondering whether this angel in disguise might be able to take me.

I wouldn’t ask much, just a continuation of the support he’s shown so far, the assurance that there was one person, however remote and unconnected to me, who cares. In his arms, my brain starts to still, and begins to put the decision that’s too hard to make on the shelf, if just for a little while.

“She can’t stay here,” Mary notes, primly.

Snapping my eyes open, I see her looking around with disdain. Sure, my place isn’t one I’d have chosen, but beggars can’t be choosers. San Diego isn’t cheap, and this was all I could afford. So what if the paint’s peeling off the walls, the stove looks like it should be condemned, and the furniture is worn? I’ve scrubbed the place from top to bottom. At least it’s clean, and it’s mine.

“I agree.” Niran flinches as something heavy is dropped on the floor above. He shifts slightly, sitting me up and turning me to face him. “Why don’t you come with us? We can take you somewhere more comfortable.”

Oh no. I might have relaxed my guard with him, but I’m not stupid enough to go with anyone when I don’t know them. Visions of my body lying dead in a ditch—which, actually under the circumstances might not be a bad result—or worse, returned to Duke, fill my head. I’ve only just met them. I’d be a fool to so easily give up my trust.

“I’m fine here.” I put as much conviction into my voice as I’m able to. “Look, please, will you go?” I’ve had enough socialising. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. Best all around if I were to go to sleep and never wake up. How can one woman cope with all the pain in my heart?

Please go,I repeat in my head.

Chapter Eight

Niran

This woman seated on my lap, barely holding herself together, is a complete stranger, and I shouldn’t feel any sense of responsibility for her. Nevertheless, she’s going through something terrible, something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and my gut is screaming the last thing she needs is to be alone.

I hate that she’s in this place. She should be somewhere safe, not in an environment that must be adding to her stress level and distress. But I can appreciate how it’s far too soon to ask for her trust. There’s only one option, I have to stay.

Taking out the keys to the SUV, I pass them to Mary. “You okay to drive yourself?”

For a response, I get a roll of her eyes, followed by her seeking confirmation I won’t be leaving her new friend alone. “You’re definitely staying?”

---