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“I…” I swallowed as I felt the baby kicking. “I had a nightmare.”
“You’re okay,” Ford said, his tone soothing. “You’re okay. Nothing can get you here, I promise.”
I nodded, wanting to believe him, but the fact of the matter was, I hadn’t been safe since I’d met Curtis all those years ago. I’d thought I was, but I wasn’t.
“I can’t get the images out of my head,” I confessed to him. “They won’t leave.”
“What images?” he asked, and I knew it was an innocent question, but I was scared if I told him, they’d come back.
“Of Curtis,” I croaked out, glancing around the room. The sun was starting to come up, peeking through the half-closed blind on the window. Lottie was crawling closer to me on the bed, her eyes holding so much knowledge. She could sense things we’d never understand. “I shot him.” I pushed my hand through Lottie’s fur. “I killed him. I watched the life drain out of him, and…and I’m not sorry. Not one bit.” I sniffled, trying to hold my emotions at bay. “He was lying on top of me, and all the blood…” I trailed off, not able to continue. It was as if Curtis was still there, standing over me and threatening to take everything away from me.
Ford was silent, and I wondered if he thought differently of me, but when I turned to look at him, I saw understanding shining in his eyes. I knew he’d killed people too. Killed them to protect others around him. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he coped after it, but before I could say anything, he said, “It gets easier.”
“It does?” I asked, my voice less croaky now. Telling him what happened seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders I hadn’t even realized was there.
“Yeah, Baby Belle, it does.” He smiled, and the baby kicked again. “Your eye is open more today.” He was trying to change the subject, and I greedily accepted it.
“It is?” I turned my head back and forth, realizing I could see more out of my swollen eye now. It had been nearly a week since the incident, and although I was healing, it felt slow going. “Thank god.”
“The outside will heal faster than the inside.” His brows were low as if he was remembering his own pain. “But you will heal. I promise you that.” He paused and crouched down in front of me. “Your dad called while you were sleeping last night.” My eyes widened, and I dreaded to think what he’d said to Ford. I’d left them a note telling them I’d gone out because I was tired of listening to them talk about what Ford had done. How he’d broken their trust. They, better than anyone, should have known you didn’t choose who you loved.
“What did he say?”
“Just wanted to know if you were with me.” He shrugged and moved his hand from my face to my stomach. “I told him you were.” I could tell there was more to the conversation, but I wouldn’t push it. “Whoa.” Ford’s eyes widened, and he stared at my stomach and then glanced up at my face. “What was that?”
“That,” I started, “is your baby kicking the life out of me.”
Ford stared at my stomach in awe, his mouth hanging open. “Holy shit.” He moved his hand over my stomach, and the baby kicked again in response. “That’s crazy.”
“Yep.” I shuffled forward. “Try having it kick you in the bladder and nearly peeing your pants on the daily.”
Ford shook his head and chuckled. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby.”
“That was a hint,” I continued, but he wasn’t paying attention to me, he was too busy staring at my stomach with fascination. I understood it, I really did, but I was about to pee myself. “Ford, I need to pee. Bad.”
“Shit.” He backed away with wide eyes, his hands in front of him like he was about to catch something. “Sorry. I just…I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
I turned and placed my feet on the floor, staring around the room. “I get it. It’s a weird sensation.” I looked back at him. “It kicks all the time, so you can feel it again. But first…bathroom?”
His lips spread into a grin, and he stared down at his hands for a beat as if he could still feel the baby kicking. I cleared my throat to get his attention, and he shook his head and pointed to the door on the left wall. “In there.”
I didn’t say another word as I stood and darted to the bathroom. Gone were the days when I could hold it in. When I needed to go, I had to go, and there was nothing that would stop me.
Once I was finished, I washed my hands in his sink and looked in the mirror. He was right, the swelling on my eye was better, but the bruises were just as bad. I had a band of them around my throat, and more under the T-shirt and leggings I was wearing. I’d raided Asher’s closet a couple of days ago for some of his T-shirts because nothing I had fit, and Mom had gone out and bought me some leggings. I basically only wore what resembled pajamas all day long.
I placed my hands on the side of his sink and took in the rest of his bathroom. Gray tiles covered every surface, and I was starting to realize all he had in this house was gray.
“Belle? You okay in there?”
“Yeah,” I called out and turned the tap off. I wiped my hands on a towel hanging to the side. “Coming.”
I opened the door and expected to see Ford in the same position, but he was standing on the other side of the bed, wearing his dark jeans and T-shirt, and his belt with a gun attached to it was around his waist. “I’ll drop you home on the way to work,” he said, not looking at me as he made the bed.
“Oh, okay.” I hesitated as I watched him, and was fascinated by the way his tattoos danced on his arm as he placed the pillows back on the bed. “I di
dn’t realize you had to go into work today.”
“Yeah. Your dad wants to see me.” He halted in front of me, and I could tell he was holding something back. I understood why. There was so much unsaid between us, but we’d made a start at bridging the gap last night. “I know you probably don’t need me to say this,” he started, moving from foot to foot. Was he nervous? “But I need to make sure you know that I’ll be there no matter what.”
