Page 145 of Illicit Heir

After a week, he finally gave me clothes and let me move around the house. But it was false freedom. He never lets me forget he can hurt me or my child.

"Shush now." The nurse grabs the baby from the doctor.

He pats my ankle, asserting, "Ya did good. Now, hold still. I have to sew ya up."

"Please give me my baby," I beg, fearful I'll never see him again.

The nurse moves over to the side of the room, stating, "He's right here. Don't worry, dear." She moves in front of my son so I can't see him.

He continues to cry, and it feels like forever that I'm in stirrups with the doctor sewing me up.

The nurse finally brings the baby over, all cleaned up.

When she hands him to me, he curls into my chest, still crying.

"Shh," I tell him, trying to calm him. I stroke his head and stare at the red hair, amazed he's finally here. I count his little fingers and toes. He tries to find my breast and immediately does.

"Oh, he's hungry." The nurse laughs as the doctor leaves the room.

The baby takes to my breast and starts feeding.

The nurse places a blanket over him, asking, "Ya know what you're going to name him?"

"Caleb Junior," Caleb booms, appearing in the doorway.

A shiver runs through me. I can't imagine calling my baby Caleb. Yet I don't really have a choice.

"He's beautiful. Ya did well, sir. Looks just like his dad." The nurse beams.

I almost tell her he looks nothing like Caleb. He looks like his real father, Devin. I see it in my baby's nose, cheekbones, and jawline. He hasn't opened his eyes yet, so I don't know what color they are, but I know he resembles his father.

I hug my son tighter, afraid Caleb will grab him from me and disappear, just like he's threatened so many times.

Instead, Caleb comes closer and orders the nurse, "Ya can leave the room now."

"Oh, sure," she says and quickly scurries away.

I don't loosen my grip on my son and meet Caleb's eyes.

He leans down and murmurs in my ear, "Little Caleb sure seems hungry. But so is Daddy."

A new chill flies down my spine.

He adds, "As soon as the doctor gives the okay, you're moving into my bedroom."

Horror fills me. I knew the day was coming. I stay quiet, knowing it's pointless to fight.

Caleb rises and stares at me. "Ya really do look a mess. Ya should clean yourself up." He turns and walks away.

I try not to cry. I'm tired of being emotional, but I can't help it. I hug my son tighter, watching him feed.

He eventually moves to the other breast, and the same thoughts I always have go through my mind.

Why didn't I go to Devin?

The O'Connors would have taken the baby.

They wouldn't have. Would they?

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