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Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Iknow it’s somewhere in this house,” I grumble as search through the bedroom.
I plunder through the closet and practically crawl under the bed. Nothing there. I spy the dresser. I go through the drawers, everything in them ends up on the floor behind me.
“It’s here, I know it is, I can feel it.” I turn, the dresser behind me, now with empty drawers.
Footsteps coming up the stairs gets my attention. I don’t move as I wait for the door to open.
“Where is it?” I ask.
Ignatius gives me a crooked grin as he stands in the doorway with one shoulder propped against the frame and his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you talking about?” He steps into the bedroom and eyes the mess I’ve made with humor in his eyes.
“I know you went to see Hattie. She gave you something. Where is it?”
He arches a mischievous eyebrow at me. “Has it worked?”
I clench my jaw, frustrated. “I don’t know, but I’m late. I made an appointment for today.”
“I’m coming with you.” He closes the distance between us and slips his arms around my waist. With his lips pressed against my forehead, he asks quietly, “Does it feel like it worked?” his lips brush against my skin as he speaks.
His presence alone has been enough to comfort me through the past several months. It was tough for a while, I had nightmares and flashbacks of the night with the Voodoo Killer, but Ignatius has been with me every step of the way. He comforted me in the middle of the night when I woke up screaming, he’s stayed with me on my bad days when I couldn’t shake the feelings of being watched. He’s taken me to therapy appointments, and he wouldn’t let me go when I wanted to run away. Sometimes he practically had to tie me down, but he never gave up on me.
And he agreed when I said I wanted to have a baby.
My body relaxes against his as I melt into him and feed my arms around his waist with my cheek pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a familiar sound, it’s soothing and is my calm in the middle of life’s turbulent oceans. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t feel any different.”
“Did you take a test?” He holds me closer.
“I don’t want to. I should, I know, but I thought I could ask some questions about how we can help this along.” I shrug, “You know, just in case I’m not.”
He lowers his face so it’s tucked in the curve of my neck. “I’m no doctor, but I think the best way to expedite this is to keep you naked and tied to the bed. We can start right now.”
I chuckle. “You hardly let me out of bed as it is now.”
He drags his lips up the column of my neck, instantly sending shivers coursing through my body. “I guess we’ll find out today whether the Ignatius Beauchamp pregnancy therapy has worked. You can thank me later.”
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” I giggle. And I absolutely love him for it.
He nibbles along my collar bone, making me tip my head to the side asking for more. “You told me that the first day I ravaged you.”
“It’s still true.” I wiggle out of his hold and fix a glare on him. “Now tell me where the fertility doll is.”
“Not happening.” He shakes his head as the corners of his mouth turn up in the devilish grin I adore. “Not until you’re full of my baby.” He steps away and begins to pick up the clothes I threw all over the floor.
I cringe and mumble, “Sorry about that.”
“I have a feeling I’ll need to get used to your mood swings,” he murmurs as he gathers everything in his arms and plops it on the bed. “I love all your moods. What time is the appointment?” He dips his head down and leans in to place a kiss on my mouth.
I glance at the time on the clock by the bed. “In an hour.” I grab his hand and move toward the door. “We have to go.”
* * *
“You’re going to feel a little pressure,” the doctor states clinically from between my spread legs.
I’m tense, I can’t help it.
