Page 37 of Broken (Broken 1)


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Nathan doesn’t talk he just leads me out the same way he led me in, a hand on my arm tugging me along. Sigh.

“What about my car?” I ask, seeing it sitting in the parking lot looking all lonely.

“I’ll provide you with a car.”

“But I…”

“It’s too early to argue, I’m exhausted.”

“Nath…”

“Enough Guinevere!” He snaps and my mouth instantly clamps shut.

I look out of the window, silent tears falling down my cheeks. “It’s Caleb’s car.”

I see him wince out of the corner of my eye but he says nothing. We continue driving and more than anything I just want to go home. The problem is, I don’t have a home.

After twenty minutes my stomach starts growling reminding me how hungry I am. The baby does nothing to help, although I can barely feel him move and I’m not too far along, it’s still uncomfortable trying to bend in any way. I roll my seat back so my stomach isn’t so crushed and pat my bump affectionately.

We drive past a service stop on the motorway, I almost salivate at the thought of food.

“So, the plan is,” I’m startled by the sudden sound of his voice. “You’re to stay with me for the foreseeable future. I’ll handle any expenses you may have.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Yes well…” his voice trails off and his top teeth sink into his lower lip. “I’m rarely home for more than sleep and I can afford it so it’s not the cost that’s the burden.” Just me and the baby then, ouch. “I have plenty of room for you and your child, all I ask is you don’t invade my privacy and you don’t bring narcotics into my house.”

“Well obviously,” I point at my stomach with a roll of my eyes. “I’ve never done narcotics in my life, I don’t plan to start now.”

“Good. And lastly, don’t make noise when I am home and stay out of my way.”

With pleasure. I don’t say this, instead I say this, “I appreciate your help, Nathan.” When I go to place my hand on his to get this thank you across, he pulls away abruptly almost like I’ve burned him before I even have a chance to touch him.

“And don’t touch my hands. Ever. Is that understood?”

I blink in astonishment, “Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

What an arsehole. It’s hard to think he and Caleb were related, they’re both extremely different.

“Anything else?” I enquire, wanting to know all of the rules now so I don’t get chastised again in the future.

“No, eat what’s available want when you want, I have a cleaner come in every morning; not including the weekends, so try to be out of your room by eleven. As for luxuries, anything you need just speak to the cleaner or ask me if I’m home. If I’m not available call me.”

I nod slowly, “Okay. Thanks.”

“How long have you got left?”

“I’m eighteen weeks pregnant,” I rub my belly once more whilst staring at the bump.

“You look further along than that.”

“So I’ve been told,” which sucks.

He keeps his eyes forward but his body seems relaxed, “I’ll book you in with an appropriate doctor when we arrive.”

Well that’s one thing I can cross off my list of things to worry about.

“Now please, I’d appreciate quiet,” he says firmly, so I plug my headphones in and listen to music on my phone instead.

After an hour my stomach churns even more so than before, I’m so hungry I could eat a raw carrot and I hate raw carrot. We pass another service stop but we don’t pull in.

I’m also desperate for a wee, my bladder is fit to burst.

I hold it and hold it but now I’m just putting myself at risk of infection. That and I may pee myself.

Carefully pulling my headphones off I glance at Nathan and contemplate whether or not I should speak. Fuck it. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Hold it.” He orders, not even glancing my way.

“I’m pregnant, I can’t hold it anymore, I’ve been holding it,” I try to say this calmly, not wanting to piss him off. “Please? I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

He sighs and checks the signs for another service, “There’s another in fifty miles, give or take. We can be there in about forty minutes, how’s that?”

“Brilliant,” I sigh with relief and sink into my seat. “Can we get food while we’re there?” My stomach agrees loudly.

“We don’t have time.” His jaw is set and his demeanour says, ‘don’t mess with me.’

“Please?” I beg. “I’ll grab something to go.”

“No food in the car.” Yet another ridiculous rule.

I scowl at him, “I get that we have to be quick but look at it this way. I have low blood pressure, if I don’t eat I’ll faint and that’ll be a long trip to the hospital that you really do not want.”

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