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Taylor hung her head. It sounded so ridiculous when he put it that way, yet that was exactly what she wanted him to do. Not because she felt sorry for Irene, but because it was what was right. As horrible as the woman’s actions were, she couldn’t accept that a death sentence was what was deserved. If for no other reason than to preserve her own sanity. Another part of her whispered the bitch deserved it, and she hated that part more than anything. It was a poison that needed purged. She didn’t know if it was jealousy, hurt, or SKALS talking, but it wasn’t how she’d been raised. The conflict she felt was sickening.
She opened her mouth, but came up short when Sebastian jabbed a forefinger at the tip of her nose.
“No,” he said, silencing her with the stern point. “That is enough. This conversation is done. Take off your clothes.”
“Sebby, it’s not my fault! Don’t do this…”
His hands locked around her arms, dragging her off the mattress until she stood nose-to nose with him.
“Oh I’m not going to beat you, darling. I am going to take my anger out in a much more productive way,” he said, tracing the slender column of her neck. “You had better pray I find every last one of your efforts pleasing, too. A mere taste of what your friend is suffering will have you begging for my belt instead.”
Terror paralyzed her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t too sure the belt wouldn’t be the safer alternative. A tense ache spread through her muscles and dinner threatened to reemerge as she wondered what he had planned. With shaking hands, she slowly peeled out of her dress. Sebastian’s hard stare burned into her and brimmed with impatience as she shimmied out of the matching lace undergarments.
His face darkened on a frown. The gentle glide of his fingers over her bared hip was startling. Confused, she searched his eyes. They lent no insight to where his mood or thoughts lie. The emotions brewing there were ones she couldn’t place, but the sight brought a new lump to her throat. He looked so uncertain and torn that her heart ached and she couldn’t help being scared. Not for herself, but of whatever had him feeling so out of sorts.
“Before we start, tell me one thing…were you sick again today?”
She barely managed a mute nod. Sebastian’s shoulders slumped and he hung his head. His curse took her by surprise as he took a step back and scrubbed a hand across his nape. When he lifted his head, his eyes swung up to hers. The fearful anguish there was almost more than she could take. His jaw clenched as he studied her, his gaze trailing over every exposed inch of her from head to toe then back again. He closed his eyes for a long moment, as if silently pleading for something, and when they opened again, he cupped the side of her face.
“Talk to me,” he said softly. “Is there something else going on with you? Something you aren’t telling me?”
“No. It’s just nerves.”
“No, Taylor. It’s not. This has been going on for far too long. How have you been feeling otherwise?”
She shrugged. “Tired.”
Nodding, he let his hand fall from her face. Taylor’s breath caught as he trailed a finger across her abdomen, his expression pensive. “I think it’s time we consider the possibility that you may be pregnant.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he stated quietly.
“No. That can’t be right. I was on the shot.”
A wistful smile carved his face. “You were supposed to go back in January. Every time we went to make an appointment, things came up. The blowback from Todd, Laychee, and then the break in. As good as our intentions were we just haven’t had the time.”
“Seb…no…” she said, her stomach doing a rapid flip. “It could still take six to nine months before I could get pregnant. It has to be something else. It has to be.”
Something fleeting flickered through his eyes. Hurt or relief. The emotion was so rapid it was hard to say. His lips pursed and he straightened. She took a step back, uncertain how to take the curious tilt of his head.
“No matter how small the chance, we can’t be sure. It’s not a risk I am willing to take.”
She stared at him in confusion as he backed away. What did that mean? Was he planning on making her get rid of it? Her heart hammered, her chest filling with a tormented ache. “Sebastian, what are you doing? What does that mean?”
He prowled the length of the room before scrubbing his hands through his hair until the long, unruly curls stood on end. “It means I need to think and weigh things carefully before I act. Take a shower and get in bed. I damn well suggest you take those orders to heart. I’ll be back.”
Before she could answer, he was gone.
Sebastian tossed the bags on the seat beside him in the Benz, thankful someone had the presence of mind to equip 24-hour convenience stores with the necessities of a sin-fueled life like pregnancy tests, condoms, and booze. He started the car and froze, his eyes narrowing. One of the bastards he’d been seeing everywhere was leaning against the ice bin, his pinched features and painfully gaunt frame too familiar not to recognize.
Clenching his teeth, he gripped the steering wheel and squeezed until the hard leather creaked. He’d been so careful going in, making sure to scan the parking lot and outlying area, as well as checking the aisles and angled mirrors inside the store before taking his purchases to the counter. The clerk had looked at him funny when he’d dumped the array of pregnancy tests on the flyer-lined counter and requested the purchase be triple bagged, but he didn’t care. It paid to take every precaution he could. Every precaution, and it still wasn’t enough. He had no idea who these men were, but he had no doubt they carried the kind of clearance needed to check the security tapes and see what he had purchased if that was their desire.
What if they took that information to Marx? What then?
A dull throb rose behind his temples. That sort of conflict was the last thing he needed. Lifting his phone, he snapped off a few pictures until he was certain facial recognition would give him a hit. Whatever game these men thought they were going to play, he could play twice as well. Everyone had something they were afraid of, and this man was begging to meet his worst nightmare.
Throwing him a heated glare, Sebastian threw the car into gear. He drove until he lost the distant sweep of headlights in his mirror before heading home.
Some of his annoyance had abated by the time he pushed open the bedroom doors. Taylor remained huddled in the center of their bed. She’d tried to distract herself by reading, but judging from the terrified look on her face, she’d failed miserably. Her beautiful grey eyes were haunted and uncertain as they swung up to his and she laid her book aside. His chest tightened as he wondered if that fear stemmed from him or the fact that she could be pregnant with his child.
Her reaction earlier had been anything but elated. Not that he could blame her. He’d given her very little reason to rejoice over any aspect of their life tonight, and the thought of what Marx might do if he found out threatened to rip whatever hopeful joy he might have felt away.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he placed the bags between them. “I need answers, Taylor,” he stated quietly. “I need to know if you are carrying my child. No matter how pissed off I am I could never live with myself if I did something to endanger our baby. Even I have my limits.”
“What if I’m not?” she asked, her voice a timid whisper.
Somehow, that thought frightened him even more. Fighting to keep his emotions at bay, he stilled a tremble and captured her hands in his. “Then there is something very wrong with your health. Either way, we need to find out. It’s time.”
“Sebby…I’m scared.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I know, baby, but we will get through this. I will take good care of you either way. I promise.”
Her small hands twisted in his shirt and clung to it for dear life. He winced as the hot scald of her tears seeped through the thin fabric to sear his skin. Tipping her face back, he brus
hed salty streaks away with the pad of his thumb and offered a weak smile.
“Come into the bathroom. I’m going to take a quick shower. Take the tests. When I come out, we will look at them together and decide where to go from there.”
His thoughts were a whirlwind as he switched the shower on and stepped beneath the jetted spray. As angry as he had been, seeing the jut of her hips and the hint of ribs stretched beneath her skin had lent him serious pause. Then, he’d remembered Monique. She’d suffered much the same way the first few months she’d been pregnant with Mia. Dane had often joked that she had a parasite in the oven instead of the proverbial bun. The moment he remembered that, he knew he was done. Furious or not, he couldn’t go through with things. Not until he’d had time to cool down and think. Despite Marx’s orders to get his family and affairs in order, he wouldn’t risk doing serious harm to Taylor or their unborn child for the son-of-a-bitch.
His mind had spun to just how sick she’d been, and the way she kept nodding off whenever she was comfortable and time allowed. What if something else was wrong? Horrible things had raced through his head. Things like cancer or leukemia, and his heart had threatened to shatter. No matter how angry he was, he loved Taylor with everything he had. He couldn’t live without her. He would rather die a thousand deaths in her stead. There was no way to justify anything cruel when she was already so weak and down.
Casting an uncertain glance through the frosted glass, he cursed beneath his breath. The woman was turning his entire world upside down. He didn’t even know who the hell he was anymore or where he stood from one minute to the next. Closing his eyes Sebastian let his head fall forward to rest against the shower wall. One thing was for certain, he barely recognized the man he was when they’d met. That man would have beaten her senseless without a second thought. Unfortunately, that man was also the one who kept them alive. This one, this entire situation, was likely to get them both killed. Was that really worth the risk?
Steam rose around him as he stepped out and scrubbed the excess water from his hair. His eyes locked with Taylor’s while he wound the thick burgundy towel around his waist. Huddled on the lid of the toilet with her knees tucked beneath her chin, she’d never looked more pitiful or scared. It reminded him of the day he found her sitting on the concrete divider after the drive-by shooting. Even then, after just a few months of dating, he would have done anything to keep her safe. He tried not to think how that challenge grew more and more difficult by the day.
