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Notourbaby. Notours.
We’d lost mine and Caelan’s.
Caelan grunted at that. “You fucker.”
Eric laughed sadistically. “As if I’d want to impregnate her. Me crossed with her? It’d be an absolute horror show. Nah, that one time I was off work, it was for the vasectomy. I’d had to pay for it myself with not being married etcetera.”
“You hateful prick,” Caelan spat.
“Never said I wasn’t.”
Caelan gestured behind him for something under his pillow, jabbing his finger in that direction.
The baby let out a yell and I moved as if wanting to go to him, but shifted my hand under the pillow instead when Eric warned me to halt. I tucked the knife I’d found up against my arm and moved up behind Caelan, handing him the weapon carefully. Eric’s attention had been momentarily focused on the baby.
“Please, let me sort him out. Then I’ll come with you. I promise.” I stepped around Caelan and held out my arms in Logan’s direction. “Let me soothe him and change him, feed him, one last time. Then I’ll come with you. I swear. If you let them live, I’ll do anything.”
Eric cackled as I stared at the crib; at my yearning to go to the crying baby and cuddle him.
“Who said anything about letting anyone live? Now that you’ve both admitted you despise me and that I mean nothing, there’s absolutely no reason for any of us to live. Right?”
He was about to raise his gun, when I thought I heard Caelan begin to move, and everything that happened next took place in slow motion…
The gun was coming for me first, seeing as though I stood in front of Caelan, desperate to go to my boy. He’d probably pop Caelan next, then maybe himself—leaving the baby to be raised by an ancient set of godparents, or by my friend Sophie in her chaotic household.
The level of hate in Eric’s eyes made me breathless as he aimed for me, the one obstacle standing in the way of him and Caelan continuing as they had done all those years.
Eric as the big man’s wingman. That empty, soulless existence—but, at least he would have had Caelan in his life if they’d stayed that way.
They were mates, best mates. Or so he thought.
The truth was, Caelan had never been close to anyone, had never revealed his true self or capacity for love to anyone—not before me.
My heart stopped for a beat as I imagined Logan being raised by Eric.
That would be the ultimate revenge: kill us, then raise Logan to be a monster, just like him.
Before I could do anything, a shock to my side sent me flying across the room like I was being cleaved from myself. I crashed into the floor and went sliding towards the wall.
A unmistakable noise, then. A shift in the air. Even above the crying baby.
That brutal cut.
Then a gasp.
All I heard in that moment was my baby’s crying and I scrambled across the room, knees scraping across the cold, hard floor. I nearly tipped the crib over grasping for him, and the moment I had him in my arms, wailing against me—I held him safely.
“It’s okay, Logan. Mummy’s here.”
When I looked behind me, Caelan sat there on the edge of the bed, lip wobbling. Arms dangling at his sides. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
“This will… get you that knighthood now for sure…”
I took to my feet and held out the baby to his father, the babe gratefully accepted.
Caelan consoled himself in the son who’d never know anything about this.
I walked to Eric, took his gun, flicked on the safety and tossed it into the vacant crib.
