Page 79 of Voracious

I stoptextingas the door to the pool house swings open and look up to see Stacey standing there with shaky legs, a burst lip and what looks like a black eye.

I drop my phone and get to my feet. “What the fuck happened to you?”

She holds her hands to her chest as tears fall from her eyes. “Kade,” she bursts out. “Oh God.Kade.”

I rush to her, and she loses her balance – grabbing her bruised face, her eyes red from how much she’s been crying. Her cheek is swollen, blood dried on her chin from the cut on her lip.

“Fuck,” I breathe, searching her. She’s wearing a dress that shows off more bruises on her leg. “What the fuck happened? Did someone do this to you? Is our girl okay?”

Murderous fucking rage overcomes me at the thought of someone hurting my girls. No one fucks with what’s mine. I’m all but calm as she shakes her head and gasps into more tears.

“I fell,” she says. “I fell down the studio stairs.”

I blink down at her. “Really?”

“I wasn’t paying attention and slipped.”

They’re steep and go on for fucking miles. No wonder she’s such a mess.

“I should have been paying attention,” she says, trembling and holding a hand to her small bump. “I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry. She might be hurt.”

I try to calm my breathing as I hold Stacey to me. She hyperventilates, weeping into my shoulder. “I don’t know…” Shehiccoughs, trying to speak while she sobs. “If she’s okay.”

My eyes sting, burning as I wipe them on my shoulder. “I’m taking you to hospital.”

Stacey doesn’t fight me as I order one of the drivers to take us straight there, calling my dad on the way and messaging Mum. I hold her to me, refusing to let go as I tug myhoodieover her head and interlace our fingers.

We’re seen rapidly, and the doctor asks me to leave while she speaks with Stacey. I refuse, obviously, and sit in the corner while a nurse comes in to help tend to Stacey’s wounds.

We’re transferred to the maternity unit, where they give Stacey an emergency ultrasound. We both sigh in relief when we see our baby girl on the screen, distorted within the scan, but the fluttering heartbeat makes me close my eyes and tighten my hold on Stacey’s hand.

“She’s okay,” Stacey sobs, her chin trembling. “Are you sure?”

“We suggest being more careful, Miss Rhodes. Everything seems fine, but that doesn’t mean something can’t happen. Bodily trauma during pregnancy can have a lot of effects. We’ll book you in for another appointment next week. But come straight back if you get any pains or bleeding.”

She nods repeatedly and wipes her tears.

The lady asks me to leave for two minutes because they have important questions for Stacey that would be better if I’m not present, and since she gives me a pleading look, I agree and wait outside.

When she comes out of the room, I kiss her and take her home. Mum is back before us and tells me to put Stacey to bed and ensure she’s comfortable. She makes up sandwiches and fills hot-water bottles, bringing them up to us.

I spend the next three hours with my head on her bump again, telling my daughter how lucky we are, that she’ll be painting my nails and making me drink invisible tea with her teddy bears. I’ll draw her – I’ll teach her how to draw.

She’ll travel with me and her mother, and when the time comes and we want another kid, she’ll be the best big sister.

Stacey falls asleep first, and I stroke my thumb against her cheek, kissing the bruises on her face. She has bruises on her ribs. Really bad ones. She promised me before she fell asleep that she’d be careful on the stairs and gave in when I said I’d be building a handrail on both sides.

We also agreed that, in the morning, we’ll video-call withLuciellaand tell her everything. Stacey wants us to run away – to get away from this life – and doting boyfriend that I am, I said yes.

As soon as our daughter’s born, we’ll start a new life.

With her back to my chest, I fall asleep with my hand on her small, barely there bump, thankful that our pride and joy is perfectly healthy. I kiss her shoulder, telling her repeatedly that she’s okay, that I love her.

Stacey’s scream wakes me with a start the next morning. It’s a strangled string of screams that will haunt me for the rest of my days. She pushes the duvet off us, and my heart drops when I see my worst nightmare.

My hand trembles as I completely yank away the duvet while Stacey grabs my arm, screaming even louder and burying her head into the crook of my neck.

I don’t breathe. I don’t say a word, even as Mum andEwanburst through my bedroom door.

---