Page 82 of Claimed By Ruin

“No, you look cold. Asia, come with me, we’ll get him a blanket,” Christopher said.

I looked at Jack then. He gave away nothing. I didn’t know what to do. Did the only thing I could. I stood up and walked down the infinitely long table. Met Christopher at the door. He touched my elbow again, and I only barely managed to keep from wiping at the spot. I let him lead me, grateful he seemed content to be in front of me and into a room.

“Is anyone else staying here?” I asked.

“I have security, but they sleep outside if they want to rest,” Christopher said.

“Hmm,” I responded.

He took me to what appeared to be a very small bedroom with a full-size bed and an ivory-white comforter with pink roses and a Chantilly lace fringe.

“Are you nervous?”

I chuckled. “I mean, with times being what they are, it makes sense to always be nervous.”

“No. I mean right now. Here with me. Are you nervous?” Christopher asked.

He got closer, so close that I smelled his cologne. It was heavy, cloying. Couldn’t help but think of how Jack never smelled like that. I met Christopher’s eyes.

“What? Why would I be nervous? It’s not like you’re going to throw me down and try to rape me or something,” I said with a laugh.

Christopher’s face twisted. “Of course not. Not in your condition.”

“What condition?” I asked, my voice wavering ever so slightly on the last word.

“Asia, you don’t think I can see it?” He reached out, pressed his hand against my stomach.

I almost lost the food I hadn’t even eaten. But I stayed still. Bit down so hard I was worried I might crack my teeth.

“I keep an eye on things. That’s how I manage to keep it all together,” he said, his hand pressed against my stomach. A breath escaped when he lifted it, but was sucked back in when he pressed it back down. Harder. Moving from one side of my abdomen to another, then up right underneath my breast, lower to the waistband of my pants. “I’ve noticed the changes. Subtle. I assume our friend Jack is to blame for your current predicament.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Christopher.”

His grip on my stomach tightened ever so slightly, and I stiffened. He noticed, loosening his fingers, but didn’t move his hand.

“Come on, Asia. Has it kicked yet?” he said, his warm breath brushing my neck.

“Christopher, get your hand off me,” I said.

“What? Am I violating your space? Invading your bodily autonomy?” he asked.

“You’re touching me without permission. That doesn’t seem like a very community-minded thing to do, don’t you think?”

He laughed. Mercifully lifted his hand as he wagged a finger at me. “Touché. Well played, Counselor.”

I stiffened, the wrongness of hearing that word from him crawling over my skin.

“But you make an excellent point. This is about community. You being in this predicament does not bode well for our community.”

“What are you talking about, Christopher?”

“He’s an outsider. Dangerous, reckless. I don’t think he’s responsible enough to let you have this thing and take it and get the hell out of my town. And even that’s assuming you live through it. What if you don’t?” He shook his head definitively. “It’s not worth the risk. We’ll get rid of him, get rid of it, and things will be the way they should be…”

Christopher was still talking, but I didn’t hear him.

I saw him, though.

Saw his lips moving, saw the way the collar of his shirt pressed against his neck.