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I directed it at the man I loved.
I expected him to continue to treat me with kid gloves, treading around my feelings as if they were made of glass, retreating when it looked like something might turn into a fight.
But he surprised me. His eyes stormed, and his body tightened.
“I lost something too!” he roared.
I flinched, not expecting the explosion from him when he’d been so still for so long.
He roamed about the room like he was looking for something to break. To shatter. I knew how that felt, staring at a room full of things, longing to hurl them at walls, destroy everything.
I ached for him to do what I couldn’t. To smash everything in sight without having to restrain himself, bury his need for violence.
His eyes focused on me. “I lost something too,” he repeated with less fervor, but still louder than his normal tenor. There was an unsteadiness to his voice. One that shook the very core of me. Reduced whatever was left there to rubble.
It took me a long time to settle, to find the strength to speak. To gather myself. To fight the urge to crumble to the floor, to let him catch me.
“Yes, you did,” I agreed. “But it’s not the same. And that’s callous of me. Cruel even. But it’s the ugly truth. You lost something. You lost an idea. A future. But you never had something growing inside of you. You didn’t feel her move.”
My hand hovered over my flat stomach of its own accord.
“You don’t have the emptiness inside of you,” I whispered. “Your body didn’t bleed. Didn’t go through months of your body shedding pregnancy like it was a second skin while leaving scars on the insides, not to mention the marks of it I haven’t been able to shed. I couldn’t escape it. Not even for a second. Except for the moments when your fingers were around my neck.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “So don’t you dare tell me that I can’t escape in the one way that keeps me sane because you don’t like looking at the bruises on my skin.” My voice was raised to almost a shout now. “If you don’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”
The last shot was low, even for me. But I wasn’t holding back. My aim was to hurt him, even though he was the last person in the world who deserved it.
My words hit true.
Karson stilled.
Completely fucking stilled.
Even though I didn’t feel fear now, something deep inside me chilled at that transition. Vehemence shone in his eyes.
Karson surged forward so quickly, I didn’t even have a chance to retreat.
He didn’t touch me, though, even though his eyes promised violence. He stood inches away from me. “You let anyone else touch you, let any man near you that isn’t me, you’re signing his death warrant,” he promised. “His murder will be on your soul, remember that.”
He stared at me a few breaths longer, daring me to reply. When I didn’t, he turned on his heel and left me.
CHAPTER SIX
TWO MONTHS LATER
Who Knew – P!nk
Stella had a little girl.
Ruby Grace Helmick was born two months earlier. At home.
Jay served as midwife.
And apparently, he acted like he’d trained every day of his life for delivering his baby girl in the middle of the night at his Malibu mansion.
She was perfect.
Ten fingers, ten toes. Eyes that gazed into your soul. She was warm, teeny tiny and had that baby smell that was like crack.
Stella was a natural mother. Like she was born for it.
