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They probably have been waiting for me to explain why I’m so moody. I’ve noticed their worried glances, but telling them makes everything more real.
“Yes,” I admit. “On Christmas Eve, my therapist suggested I take a pregnancy test. You know what I’m like when I have an idea planted in my head, I have to do it as soon as possible, or it makes me crazy. So while everyone was working on the back porch, I went next door and asked Tori if she had any tests at the house.”
Instead of asking why I didn’t come to them, they just wait for me to continue. Taking a breath, I say the words that I’ve been struggling to wrap my mind around. “It’s positive. I took two tests, and they were like super fucking positive according to the box.”
Roark grunts, kissing my forehead. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever had the privilege to know, baby girl. Go watch one of your nightmares die, so you can sleep better. We’ll help you slay every single fooking one of them, okay?”
“Aye,” Turner says softly as if a promise and a prayer, and Derek and Orion echo him.
“Let’s get on with it, Lennon. I’m sure Roark will be stress-baking in the meantime,” Greg teases to lighten the mood, barking out a laugh as Roark smacks him over the head.
“Mama Rodriguez and I are good friends, don’t tempt me into having her help me bake,” he warns.
Greg holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Your treats are too good to worry about you poisoning them,” he says, retreating.
I slip the raincoat on, grateful that it’s warm and has a giant hood. Walking quickly, I follow with Orion and Derek to the car.
The drive passes faster than I expected, with Orion working one-handed on his phone, his other hand heavy on my thigh.
“I think I got a hit on Grant on the traffic camera,” he says, glancing up at Greg. I love how laser focused he is, while still making sure I can draw comfort from him.
“Perfect, send that information to Crew, please. He’s got boots on the ground there, they’ll canvas the area and find him,” Greg responds, his eye ticking.
It’s as if Greg is even more intent on finding Grant and Xav now that he knows I’m pregnant. The man is on a personal mission to ensure my safety, and all of his timelines are now pulled forward.
“Xav is still in the wind, and it’s pissing me off,” he says, as if reading my mind. “I don’t want to use you as bait again, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Biting my lip, I shrug. “We may have to set a trap, we just need to figure out how to do it so he doesn’t suspect anything.”
Greg growls under his breath, pulling up to the gate of what appears to be a drab nondescript building. You’d never know this is a holding center for dangerous, deranged people.
“This isn’t on the books, no one will know what happened to her, because of the umbrella kill order. Of course, she’s supposed to be dead, so we’re just correcting a mistake in my eyes,” he confirms.
This all works for me, and the news never said she was alive. Even though the airport security had her name and description so she couldn’t fly, it’s improbable that anyone will care enough about Carrie O’Reilly to look into her without all of the juicy details.
Derek links his fingers through mine as we walk inside, and after Greg shows his identification, no one bothers us. There are no cameras to worry about either.
“The less evidence, the better,” Greg mutters. “There was only a camera on Carrie’s cell because I asked for one. Now that we’re here, it’ll be removed.”
“Is there someone specific who will be doing this?” I ask as we weave through the hallways and then go down a dark stairwell.
“Nope, they’re going to let us in and leave, so I can snap her neck and be done with it, if you want,” Greg says with a shrug.
I love how this is normal conversation, and honestly my list of enemies is so long, it’s stopped surprising me.
“Can I do it?” Derek asks softly.
I squeeze his hand, because my mother has hurt him too. Derek’s scars are emotional and mental, because of how easily my mother brushed off his consent. It feels right to me that he is the one to end her life.
“I’m good with it,” I murmur as we reach the bottom of the stairs. It’s cold down here, and I shiver. My pants got wet from being outside, and wet jeans are one of the worst things on earth.
“Are you sure?” Greg asks as he leads us past numerous gray doors.
“Yeah, I really am. My mom hurt Derek and I, so it makes sense that he’s the one to do this,” I respond as I look around.
“It’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?” Orion says as he walks next to me.
“It’s soquiet,” I confirm. “I don’t really know what I was expecting though.”
