Pride and the Stranger: Book 2 in the Pride Trilogy

by TJ Dallas

  “I’ll go and get one,” I agreed. Harry liked pineapple, but from what Georgia had described, she’d eaten a massive amount. Even Georgia was impressed, and that wasn’t something I could ignore.

  Georgia nodded, picking up the bowls and heading towards the kitchen, no doubt for a second helping of chilli. I sighed as she disappeared. I’d have to nip upstairs for my purse, but I was already dreading how I was going to approach the subject with Harry.

  I’ll come with you, Georgia thought. But don’t accuse me or my chefs of slacking again, agreed?

  I blushed. Sorry. I’d appreciate if you’d come with me. I have a feeling we’ll be walking into an argument.

  Go and get a test, and give me a shout when you’re back. If she wants more pineapple, she can’t shout at me or I’ll cut her off. You, I’m not so sure about.

  I returned to the Cardinal a couple of hours later. It hadn’t taken me long to get my purse and find a local shop, but I’d wandered around and window shopped for longer, trying to think of any other explanations for Harry’s symptoms.

  She’d been seasick on the boat on holiday, and she’d had a concussion after her run-in with the Old Smokies ...

  My stomach dropped as I remembered seeing her climbing the stairs, the Identical holding her up. I had been shocked by the amount of blood on her shirt, and my heart had leapt into my throat. She’d never back down in a fight; the curse of her arrogant nature.

  By the time I returned, I’d satisfied myself that it was a waste of time. The sole purpose of the test was to supply honest answers to the doctor when I took her to the GP. I sighed. She wouldn’t want to go to that, either.

  Georgia? I thought.

  I’m ready. Where is she?

  I’ll get her to meet us in the conference room. See you there in five minutes?

  No problem.

  I took another moment to compose myself. Harry?

  Mmm?

  Can you come to the conference room? I stepped into the lift, pressing the illuminated number 7. We rarely used that room, but it was a neutral setting. I hoped that small detail might help Harry to stay calm.

  Sure, why?

  Georgia wants to speak to you.

  Coward, Georgia muttered quietly.

  Harry audibly sighed. So there have been complaints in the restaurant?

  I didn’t answer.

  Georgia narrowed her eyes at me when she entered, two minutes after me. We sat twiddling our thumbs in awkward silence until Harry arrived, looking much better than she did this morning. I pulled out a chair for her, and she sank into it, tilting her head.

  “So, how many complaints have you had, Georgia?”

  Georgia scowled before turning to me. “Althea?”

  Harry looked between us, the confusion arising on her face. She said nothing, waiting for me to speak. The awkward silence returned.

  “Georgia thinks—”

  Georgia kicked me under the table.

  “Ow! Um, we think …” I swallowed hard. “We think you should take a pregnancy test.”

  The silence that followed was painful, but Harry eventually broke it with a puzzled, “Say that again, pet.”

  Georgia dropped her gaze, and I blushed. “We think you should take a pregnancy test,” I repeated quietly.

  Georgia looked positively chastised out of the corner of my eye, even without catching Harry’s glare. I felt myself preparing for a vicious onslaught, but Harry surprised us both with a fit of giggles.

  “You’re having a laugh, right?”

  We remained quiet until Harry finally stopped laughing. I looked at Georgia again and cleared my throat.

  “You’ve been having unusual mood swings, and you’re getting stomach cramps. You’ve thrown up more than once; we just think—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry interrupted, and I looked away. “That chicken last week wasn’t cooked properly. I’m still feeling the consequences.”

  Georgia glowered. “There was nothing wrong with the food.”

  “How do you know, Georgia?” Harry asked, her eyes darkening. “Can you prove it? Your chefs can make a mistake, just like the next mortal. I haven’t slept with a single man in my twenty-six hundred and ten years, so what makes you think your idea is even faintly plausible?” Shaking her head, she stood up sharply. She leaned forward but winced, her hand flying to her abdomen.

  I stood up quickly, but she held up her free hand. “Don’t touch me,” she growled.

  “Harriet, listen to me. You need to get checked out. Something isn’t right. At least take a damn test so we can rule it out. When that comes back negative, we’ll tell the doctors we’ve tested for that. You know that’ll be the first thing they ask.”

  “No.”

  “Is it really so hard to piss on a stick?” I snapped, and Harry stared. I didn’t back down as I held her angry glare. “Well?”

  “No.”

  I turned around, rifling through my handbag. I handed her a pregnancy test, and she physically recoiled. I thrust it into her hands. “Now.”

  She tried hard to bite her tongue. Spinning around, she stormed away, the door banging closed behind her.

  “I’m definitely getting an earful tonight,” I muttered, slowly sitting back down.

  “She’ll calm down,” Georgia soothed, placing a hand on my wrist. “She won’t want to admit that something’s wrong; that’s why she hasn’t seen the doctors already. You know what Pride is like; she’ll never want to admit that something about her isn’t perfect.”

  Thirty minutes later, I entered Harry’s office, bracing for an argument. She didn’t look up as I clicked the door closed and walked towards her desk. She was typing on her laptop, stopping periodically to look over paperwork.

  I took a deep breath and asked, “Well?”

  “Well, what?” she grumbled.

  “What did it say?”

  “I know what it’s going to say, so I haven’t wasted the energy looking. I’ve got work to do, Althea, so unless you’re looking for something else—”

  I scowled. “Where is the test, Harriet?”

  “In the bin, where it should be. It was a load of nonsense anyway. I don’t know why you wasted money on it.” She resumed her typing, her jaw clenched.

  I walked to the small en suite at the back of her office. Pulling the cord for the light switch, I squinted against the brightness as the bulb flickered to life. Looking around, I spotted the box in the small wicker bin. Thankfully, the bin was otherwise empty, so I pulled it out. At least she’s actually taken the test before throwing it out.

  I peered in again, pulling out the thin stick. I frowned, looking at the back of the box. One or two lines?

  I looked again. Then back at the box.

  “H-Harry?” My throat closed up, and it was obvious my shock had stunned Harry into action. She appeared in the doorway, concern across her face.

  “Are you OK? What happened?”

  I couldn’t do anything except hold the test out towards her. She purposefully avoided looking at it, her forehead crinkling into a frown. “I don’t know what—”

  “Look at it.”

  She sighed, forcing her eyes to the stick. I waited for several seconds before I realised she didn’t know what she was looking at.

  “It’s p-positive,” I stammered.

  She remained quiet and unmoving, and I waited.

  “You wasted your money on a faulty one, then. That’s even worse.” She shook her head and disappeared from the door.

  It could be a faulty one, I thought, exhaling heavily. There was always a chance. You heard stories about false positives, right? Damn it; I should have gotten a second one to be sure. I hadn’t expected the first to be positive, so I hadn’t thought I’d need a second one.

  I took a few steadying breaths
. Harry was right; it was impossible. She’d have told me if, by some miracle, she’d decided to sleep with a man. She didn’t have to chase any male admirers, either; they’d fall at her feet just as the women did, but one had never taken her fancy before. I doubted one ever would, but I know she would have told me if that had happened.

  I weighed up my options. She still needed to get checked by a doctor; something wasn’t right. Maybe it was food poisoning? Although the chances of that are minuscule. Kidney stones, maybe? Her appendix? My mind raced through a number of different answers.

  I walked past her quietly, and she didn’t look up from her laptop as I left the room.

  I had a few phone calls to make.

  18

  Althea

  “This is a complete waste of time, Althea,” Harry grumbled a week later.

  “No, it isn’t. Just lie down and be quiet.”

  The nurse greeted us shyly as she entered the room. Harry rolled her eyes as she jumped up onto the bed and lay back.

  “Are we checking for a pregnancy today?” the nurse asked, settling herself in her chair and turning to face us.

  Harry didn’t say anything.

  “Yes, we are,” I said. “Among other things.”

  “Other things?” the nurse asked, looking at me curiously.

  “Well, she’s been having symptoms that would suggest pregnancy, but she isn’t sexually active with men.”

  The nurse nodded. “Right, OK. In that case, we’ll do a transvaginal ultrasound. It’s more accurate and can pick up a multitude of different things.” She turned to Harry with a smile as she started to prepare a device beside her. “If you could take your jeans off?”

  “At least buy me a drink first,” Harry muttered, and I had to turn away before the nurse caught me giggling.

  When she’d stripped from the waist down, she lay back and pulled a thin blanket over her thighs while the nurse adjusted footrests at the bottom of the bed. She pointed to the footrests, and Harry rolled her eyes again, her knees bending and her hips spreading wider as she planted her feet.

  “Good. OK, this may be a bit uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt,” the nurse advised, the end of the device disappearing between Harry’s thighs beneath the blanket. She focused on a monitor, pressing a few keys with her other hand, and narrowed her eyes.

  “Seriously, Althea,” Harry started. “You can’t actually be expecting a pregnancy? I know you’re good, but you’re not that good.”

  “Will you stop complaining? It won’t take long and at least we can rule it out. What else could cause a positive pregnancy test?”

  “A few different things can,” the nurse answered, still focusing on the monitor, and Harry smirked. “Urine infections are quite common, or certain medications. Of course, the most common explanation is pregnancy.” She looked over at us with a smile. “Congratulations.”

  I looked at Harry, and Harry looked at me.

  It was several intense seconds before either of us spoke, and we both spoke at the same time.

  “W-What?”

  “Bullshit!”

  The nurse wavered under my intense gaze and Harry’s tone of voice. I stood up, leaning towards the monitor. “What are you looking at?”

  The nurse looked back at the screen and went quiet for an incredibly frustrating amount of time. In reality, it had barely been ten seconds, but I almost smacked her impatiently. “Well?”

  “It is quite unusual, but it’s not unheard of. It’s a stealth pregnancy, judging by the lack of a physical bump, but we’re looking at ...” She paused again. “Approximately thirty-two weeks. Certainly not far off.”

  I froze, my heart thumping painfully in my chest. Harry hadn’t moved a muscle.

  She suddenly took me by surprise and laughed out loud. “All right,” she said, turning to the nurse but jabbing her thumb in my direction. “I take it she put you up to this?”

  The nurse looked between me and Harry, and Harry eventually turned to face me. The smile slowly disappeared from her face at my serious expression. I shook my head, my mind racing at a million miles a minute. I couldn’t breathe. I sat down, trying to pull air into my lungs.

  “Bullshit,” Harry repeated again. “It’s impossible.”

  I glanced at her stomach. My eyes weren’t deceiving me; it was definitely as flat and muscular as it always had been. I swallowed hard, looking at the nurse as I said, “You must be mistaken.”

  She shook her head. “Here, look.” She pointed at the screen, tracing an outline. “It’s rare, but sometimes the baby is small and settles quite far back in the abdomen. If the mother is quite athletic, toned stomach muscles help hide any swelling.” She looked at Harry. “Have you had any morning sickness? Stomach cramps? Cravings?”

  The colour drained from Harry’s face; she couldn’t answer.

  “Y-yes, there was a few times she was unwell,” I answered for her. “We thought it might have been food poisoning, although the chances of getting food poisoning from Georgia are minuscule, even compared to this. And there was a boat on holiday ... I did think that was strange, she’s never been seasick before. She also had a concussion ...”

  I trailed off, running a hand through my hair. What the fuck is happening right now? She’s pregnant? Even I’d been 99 percent sure that this was a waste of time, but with a positive pregnancy test among everything else, I figured it was worth doing.

  I must have misheard the nurse; there was no way this was actually happening. Perhaps Harry had set this up as a double prank, and they were about to start laughing at the look on my face. I prayed that were true.

  The nurse was concentrating, still looking at the screen, when she asked, “Do you want to know the sex?”

  “Yes—” I started, but Harry quickly interrupted.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Her voice was adamant, her tone unmistakable.

  The nurse sensed the tension again and changed the subject as she slowly removed the device from between Harry’s tensed thighs. “Can you think of anything that happened seven months ago that might have resulted in this?”

  Seven months! I felt the beginning of a panic attack.

  “Brighton,” Harry whispered through gritted teeth. “Althea, I was fucking plastered in Brighton. What the fuck happened?”

  “I d-don’t know.” I thought back, frantically trying to pinpoint any memory I could find to help us explain it. I shook my head, “I’m not s-sure.”

  “Althea?” Harry growled.

  “I can’t think. I don’t know.”

  I stared at the floor and tried to remember how to breathe, my heart thudding in my chest. Someone had spilled water on the linoleum, large droplets sitting ominously on the clinical white tiles. A flashback hit me like a steam train.

  “The taxi! There was a taxi. I remember we were in the back seat, and it was raining.” I forced myself to take a breath. “I t-think there was a man.” I tried not to panic.

  “Well, no one gets pregnant from a fucking taxi, so who was the man?” She glared at me.

  I refused to meet her gaze. “I’m trying, I’m trying.” I went silent again. Shit. “The hotel—”

  “What about the hotel?”

  “I’d lost my purse. I was checking my bag but couldn’t find it, and you were really drunk, and tired and, and—”

  “And what, Althea?”

  I was startled as she suddenly sat up, unable to hide the incredible anger rising up inside her. She threw her jeans back on and stood up, towering over me.

  “I’ll give you two a minute,” the nurse whispered, slipping out of the room. Neither of us even acknowledged her, but I had a feeling she was about to call security.

  I gasped, holding my head in my hands as I remembered. “He shared a taxi back to the hotel with us. He h
elped me with you, and he took you to our room while I phoned the club about my purse. It must have been him,” I sobbed.

  “Who?” she snarled.

  “I don’t know, just some man. We must have met him at the club that night. I c-can’t remember what he looked like.”

  Harry froze, staring straight ahead at the wall. Her jaw was tight, her eyes venomously dark and her hands balled into fists. She took a very deep, very slow breath, before she said, “I was raped?”

  “Well, I don’t know, but—”

  “Fucking hell, Althea!”

  She snarled again, picking up the ultrasound device and launching it at the wall. It shattered loudly, and I closed my eyes as I winced. If the nurse hadn’t call security by now, someone else would. We needed to leave, or one of us would be spending the night at the police station, and it wasn’t going to be me.

  “Harry, we need to go now. Security will be on their way.” I stood up, my legs shaking.

  “Maybe that’s a good idea,” she snapped. “At least then someone might protect me if my girlfriend doesn’t.”

  I looked up sharply. Tears formed in my eyes, and a lump caught in my throat. She’d never spoken to me like that before.

  I broke down again, unable to look at her as I ran from the room. She didn’t follow me, and I didn’t want her to. I’d failed her. She’d always protected me, and the one night that she wasn’t able to protect herself, she’d been … abused. I couldn’t bring myself to say the “R” word, but that was the only explanation.

  I sobbed harder as I ran down the corridor and out of the hospital’s main entrance. I darted across the road, narrowly avoiding a car coming around the corner. I found a park bench and sat down, burying my face in my hands.

  Althea, take a deep breath for me, Riley thought.

  I can’t, I sobbed. I was getting light-headed again from the lack of oxygen, and I started to hyperventilate.

  Yes, you can. Breathe.

  Her voice was calm and reassuring, and it soothed me, like someone had placed a heavy blanket over my shoulders. I shuddered, trying to steady myself. My pulse was racing, my heart was pounding, and my breath was far too shallow. It took several minutes before the world began to stop spinning.