Page 93 of Wrath
When his rough voice called her name, she kept walking, because if she was forced to look back at him, she wouldn’t be held responsible for her murderous actions.
Forty-Three
Later that morning,in Wyatt’s apartment, he paced outside the bathroom door, waiting for Misha’s test results. After she’d crashed the previous night, and spent the morning puking, they’d had precious little time to talk about anything. He’d had to go to the family meeting at Heaven and take Alek home to where the rest of the Minski family waited. Alek was instructed not to mention a thing about Misha’s possible condition until she notified him, and the kid was more than happy to oblige. When all his errands were done, as per Misha’s request, he’d stopped by the store to get a pregnancy test. The minute he got home, she took it and entered the bathroom.
And there they were… waiting.
His heart pounded in his throat and his palms felt clammy. She’d been in there for three minutes. That was long enough, right? Why wasn’t she opening the door?
Maybe she didn’t want to keep it.
The thought slammed into him with a frightening intensity and he stopped pacing. She hated the strain of looking after her brother and sister. To her, that work had robbed her of a happy youth. She’d missed out on so much. She was probably terrified of dying during childbirth like her mother.
And what did he want?
Shit.
Wyatt had never expected to have children of his own. They’d been told they were sterile, and Wyatt believed he always would be. Mary had refuted that “always” and said Gloria had designed their genetic code to resist reproduction while they were unstable in mind—without a mate to balance their sin’s dark urges—because having an unhinged powerful person reproduce would only pass on the darkness.
No one had believed Mary about the mate business. It had sounded ridiculous. They all thought their sterility was a side effect of being experimented on, and that people as twisted as them, abhorred by mother nature, weren’t allowed children.
Christ.
Wyatt ran a hand down his face, scratching over the stubble he’d forgotten to shave. Why wasn’t she coming out?
“Misha,” he prompted gently at the door.
A shuffling sound, and then the door opened. His heart leaped into his throat.
Dressed in yoga pants and a borrowed T-shirt of his, Misha came out holding the little white stick in her hand.
He held his breath, but she didn’t say anything. She just looked at him with glistening eyes, so he took the stick and checked the result. Two blue lines in the window. That was positive, right?
“Positive?”
She nodded.
Suddenly, the floor shifted beneath his feet. It was her decision.
“And… how, um. I guess, how does that make you feel?” he asked.
She shot him a wry smile. “Is that your way of asking if I want to keep it?”
“It’s your body. The decision is ultimately up to you.”
“What do you want, though?” She sighed and slumped. “We promised we’d be honest with each other.”
“You’re right.” Uncertainty twisted his heart. He had said they’d be honest.
“Wyatt,” she said. “You can’t keep being afraid that I’ll run away. I’m sorry I left yesterday, it was a stupid move, and I learned my lesson, but I need you to tell me the truth. I’m asking because I will always consider your feelings. What do you want to do?”
She took the test from him and placed it on the bench in the bathroom, then came back and held both his hands. “Two hands goes for both of us, right? Tell me what you want.”
But his throat closed up. “I don’t know.”
“Whatdoyou know?”
“That I want you to stay.”
