Page 112 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

But I was wrong. And if I could go back and re-do every time I didn’t push Tom to get me in touch with his contact or every time I chose not to bring it to Mike’s attention, I would. I knew he would have handled it had I said something—anything.

“If he’s mine, who’s his mother?”

Fuck.

Should I tell him?

I’m already in hot water so... I make a decision I know could cost me more than just my job.

“Chasity Carlisle.”

His brows knit together and it’s like he’s scrutinizing me to see if I’m being honest. It makes me mad more than anything else.

“The Mayor’s Chief of Staff’s niece?”

I nod, thinking back to my first and only conversation with her. She doesn’t seem like his type after I’ve gotten to know him. Then again, what do I really know?

“Hmph.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs.

“I’ve never fucked her, so tell me again how this kid is mine,Detective?”

My brows furrow, not understanding how that’s possible nor liking the way he’s back to calling me by a title rather than my name. Letting the latter go, I cock my head, thinking. Maybe he doesn’t remember sleeping with Chasity. It’s not a stretch after all. I don’t remember the first time D and I slept together so...

“He’s your son, D. I swear I’m not lying to you.”

“With the exception of you, I’ve never fucked without a condom. And her?” He laughs.

“Wait. What?” He stills, closing his eyes. It’s then I remember his comments from last night.Not every time.“When did we have sex without protection?”

Obviously, it had to have been that first night, I think to myself because I’ve been sober every other time we’ve been intimate.

“D,” I prompt when he doesn’t say anything.

Opening his eyes, he turns, looking back out the window.

“Drago!” I call out, regretting the moment the words leave my mouth. “Shit,” I whine.

My hand shakes uncontrollably and tears threaten to spill from the unexpected cramp. It’s the worst I’ve experienced yet. I’ve always been lucky; my menstrual cycles have never been bad.

He’s at my bedside within seconds, grabbing my hand. As quick as it struck, it’s gone, relief taking over. When I look up, our eyes lock.

“I can’t, Bri. Leave it for now.” His eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, I see a vulnerability in them.

Clearly, he should understand my need to know what happened. Why would he have had sex with me without a condom?

Sober, I would never consent to sex without the use of protection, and I would’ve thought that even in a drunken state I would be no different. Surely I would’ve had enough sense to demand he use one.

I’m about to tell him that when the overhead light flicks on, making me blink at the abrupt brightness.

I look at the door, seeing the doctor from last night entering.

“Good morning, Miss Andrews. How are you feeling today?” He looks worn out the closer he gets to my bedside.

“Better than yesterday.” I lie. The pain is much worse than when I woke up yesterday, but I’m not telling him that. I plan on getting out of here today even if that means going against the doctor’s orders.

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