It’s at Steele Enterprises on the rooftop terrace, which will provide a beautiful view of the city. I pull into my assigned spot in the parking garage and help Madigan get out of her seat. The two of us walk toward the elevator and I pull my hand away from her, sliding my keycard in it so we can gain entry to the rooftop.
She takes a step beside me and I can feel her eyes on me. “Something tells me you’re trying to be all professional and stuff.”
I cock a brow, turning my head to get a good look at her. Her latest accessory is a sinful as hell smirk. “This is work.”
“You’ve done a lot of things on the job that you shouldn’t have.”
Ah, I see what game she’s playing at now. “We both know you’re not trying to get me fired.”
“No, I’m trying to get you to hold my fucking hand when we walk into this party together. Or do you not want to be seen escorting me?”
I grab her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Does this answer your question? I’d be honored to hold your hand here or anywhere for that matter.”
Her cheeks flush with a rose color as the door opens, exposing us to loud music and many peering eyes. The two of us step out into a crowd of people. Waiters walk around the vicinity with champagne and appetizers for those who want them. There’s a full bar, and I spot Brooklyn and Selena up on a pedestal in the middle of the room. It matches her branding to a T, looking like they carved part of her office and put it out here.
I walk the two of us over to where the ladies are, introducing Madigan immediately to Selena. “This is Christian’s fiancée, Selena.”
Madigan looks her up and down, most definitely approving of her brother’s taste in a woman. Selena matches Christian in every aspect, especially the cocky attitude. “I’ve heard a little bit about you,” Madigan tells her with a smile.
“Hopefully only the good parts,” Selena retorts with a wink.
“I’d say so. It sounds like Christian has met his match,” Madigan comments.
Brooklyn giggles, “Oh, has he ever? Selena is far better than he deserves, though. I don’t know how you fell in love with that incorrigible ass.”
Selena breaks out into laughter, putting her hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder. “To be honest, I don’t know either. He just kind of kept coming around until he rubbed off on me.”
“Surely you mean in you?” Brook says, raising a brow.
“Gah. Brook!” Selena chastises her friend, who must be a bit like another sister to her now. I’m sure Madigan feels like the odd woman out, but with time, she’ll be good friends with both of these women.
“I’ve only been here a moment, but I’m really loving the vibe you two have,” Madigan says, getting a nod of approval from Brooklyn.
“As long as you appreciate crude humor, fashion, and make-up, you’ll fit right in with us. Now, I’m stealing you away so you can try some of my newest products. They weren’t downstairs the other day, so you get to try the new goodies.” Brooklyn takes Madigan’s hand and tugs her along with her over to a series of chairs.
I’m left alone with Selena, who is being eerily quiet. “You want to cough it up or do I have to ask?”
“I hate it when you do that,” she grumbles, looking around her.
“You don’t want to be here, do you?” I question.
“No. I really don’t. I’m here to support Brook on her new venture, but damn if I don’t feel like all the eyes are on me. Or, on this huge rock Christian put on my finger.” Selena brings her hand up, and shit is that a shiny fucker.
“Christian has great taste,” I comment, offering a small smile.
“He has an eye for the finer things in life, that’s for sure,” she comments lowly. “Do you ever feel like life is just enjoying fucking you? Like, all of your bad luck will never let up?”
“I used to, but you need to remember that it always does. It might not feel like it, but it will stop.”
“Yeah, I just feel like it’s not going to. Everything that Summer did when she posted that video, thinking she knew something she obviously doesn’t . . . it’s tearing apart my entire world. Did Chrissy tell you I was questioned by the police? That they actually thought there was some justification to this rumor Summer started?”
Fuck. “I had no idea. I’m sorry, I should’ve been more in tune to what was happening back here.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, but Child Protective Services showed up too since I’m the legal guardian of the kids. They came over and did a home check, had interviews with the kids. Obviously, they left with nothing, considering we’re well provided for and they live in a healthy, safe environment.”
“The fact that they thought I was a prostitute is ridiculous. Christian and I are both getting a lot of heat on social media, stating that our wedding is a giant publicity hoax.”
“Everyone that loves you both knows it isn’t. Christian is head over heels in love with you and was going to tie your ass down one way or another.”
“Yeah, well you haven’t heard the best part yet.”
I narrow my eyes, sensing the sarcasm in her voice. “What happened?” I question her, needing to know what the fuck I haven’t been made aware about.
“My deadbeat mother, you know, the one who abandoned all of us is suddenly back in the picture. She’s loving that she can get paid from whatever media outlet that will speak to her about what type of sickening individual I am.”
“Has Christian put a cease and desist order on her yet?”
“He’s working on it, but we both know he’s working on more shit than just that. Typical Christian, five steps ahead of everyone else. I haven’t asked much of him, but I begged him not to pay her greedy ass off.”
“It’s evident she wants the money. It might be —”
“If you tell me it’ll be best, I will break your damn nose, Reggie.”
“Alright, point taken.” I put my hands up, showing I surrender.
Selena laughs and we start to talk about something pointless. During our conversation, I keep my eyes over on Brooklyn and Madigan. The moment I see Brook’s eyes going wide and the concern that flashes across her face I know something’s wrong.
What’s worse is when she screams my name out. “Reggie!”
All I hear is fear.
But all I see is pain.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Tears are words the heart can’t say.”
~ Curiano.com
Madigan
“Madi, what’s wrong?” I let Brooklyn get away with the new nickname she’s dubbed me with because of the shooting pain coming from my side. It feels like I’ve just been stabbed, but I haven’t, not physically anyway.
“A cramp, I think,” I mutter, offering her a soft smile to ease her worries.
I’m faced with two decisions right now. I can either fake being okay or I can let the reality of what’s probably happening sink in. The stabbing pain in my stomach is anything but good. In every pregnancy article, blog, and support site I’ve read over the last few weeks, I know what this means.
I know what is happening to me and I don’t want to believe it.
“Jesus!” I groan out in a low tone as the pain grows worse.
Brooklyn grabs my hand and I squeeze hers, “What’s going on, Madi? I can tell you’re not okay.”
I think about staying quiet, about not telling her what I know is transpiring. It wouldn’t do any good though so through teary eyes, I say it out loud. “I’m pretty sure I’m having a miscarriage.”
Her eyes go wide and she screams, “Reggie!”
I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to see the number of people who have suddenly turned our way at her outburst. This is horrific enough, minus the peering eyes that must want to know whatever story they can get out of this.
“What’s going on?” he shoots out, sounding brooding and concerned.
“You need to take her to the hospital. Now,” Brooklyn orders.
“That doesn’t help me. What’s hap
pened?”
“She could be losing the baby. We don’t know,” Brooklyn tells him as the stabbing pain gets worse. I don’t know how I find the courage to open my eyes, but I do. I look deep into those brown eyes of his and silently plead for him to help. He might not know how much I’m begging, how I’m crying out to this universe for this to stop, or how I need him now more than ever because I’m scared.
Fear is the only thing pumping through my veins as Reggie lifts me into his arms and takes me onto the elevator. It all flashes before my eyes as I go numb to my surroundings, feeling my heart beating throughout my entire body. The pain becomes normal to me or maybe I’m doing a good job of reverting within myself to where I’m not paying a lick of attention. I don’t really know.
“Madigan?”
I hear Reggie, but I can’t bear to respond to him. I’m too busy pleading with God to not do this to me, but most of all, to not do this to my child. I’m apologizing for every time I didn’t get down on my knees and pray. I confess all of my sins and tell him that I know I’m not worthy of being this child’s mother, but beg him not to take it away. I apologize for not leaving Vinny sooner, for not being a good enough daughter or sibling. I apologize for every single thing I can think of, somehow thinking fate will change.
But it hits me— nothing I do will change the reality of what’s happening. No plea to God, no confession of sins, not a damn thing. All I can do is accept it and the worst part is that no matter how much I try, I can’t stop this misery.
Somehow, I’m in a hospital waiting room sitting in a chair. I don’t know how I got here and I don’t hear a single thing. I see Reggie throwing his hands up in the air, his mouth opening as he talks to the receptionist and can tell he’s furious by his facial expressions. It’s at this moment I realize I’m not the only one fighting for my child’s life. He is too, and his compassion is what draws me to him.
I stare blankly at my surroundings, thinking about what it is I did wrong to cause this. I stopped drinking alcohol and coffee. I monitored the types of food I’ve been eating, cutting out most of the fish so the mercury levels wouldn’t be too high. I started being more pro-active about the healthy foods I’ve been eating, wanting my baby to grow strong. Hell, I even took prenatal vitamins. I did everything I was told. But still, I’m being punished. My child is being taken from me.
I can’t help but wonder if I had stayed in New York if this would still be happening? Was it the stress of running that brought this on?
I sink deeper into my own thoughts until the pain gets even worse, bringing me back to reality. I feel like an outsider, like this can’t really be happening. I should be in a movie theater watching some fictional character go through this. Surely, this wouldn’t happen to a healthy young woman like me.
Reggie pulls me up, positioning his arm under my knees and rushes me back through a set of double doors, taking me wherever I need to go. I watch his face, look at the worry and anger that crosses it through every word he speaks.
I’m taken back to a room and set down on the bed. Reggie takes the blanket at the end and pulls it over me, trying to comfort me in an impossible situation. A couple of moments later a woman comes in with a sonogram machine. Her mouth moves as she speaks but I block it out like I have since the pain started. Anything being said to me right now will just make things worse.
Reggie holds my hand as he speaks to the woman, while I stare past her out at the nurse’s station, watching how they must be laughing over a joke. I wish I could be carefree like that.
The machine is rolled closer to me and Reggie bunches up my dress, pulling it to where my stomach is exposed. I see her squirt some liquid on the part of the machine that will be placed on my stomach, giving us a better picture of the situation. There’s no use in doing it, though. We already know what’s happening.
She puts it down on my stomach and on the screen, we see what each of us already knows. There’s no heartbeat.
Reggie puts his hand on my shoulder, and that is when I feel it all. When the guilt, sadness, anger, and hatred come pouring out of me in the form of tears.
“My baby is dead,” I say it out loud, looking to the sonogram tech and Reggie, but now I see it’s a physician who just did my ultrasound.
“Madigan, I’m so sorry. Please know there isn’t anything that you could’ve done to prevent this. Science isn’t always perfect and sadly, this time you weren’t in the positive percentage of women.” I listen to every word, seeing how she’s trying to make me feel better, but it isn’t working.
I feel like a failure like I did something to bring this on. She spends the next thirty minutes drilling it into my head how this isn’t my fault, how it happens to many people, but not one word she speaks helps the way I feel. It doesn’t help the emptiness, the loss I’ve experienced, or the pain I’m sure I’ll feel for days, if not weeks.
“What do we do now?” Reggie chokes out his question, and I’m sure he’s paying attention to everything while I revert back inside the safety of my mind.
I’ve always been the type of woman to encourage others to keep their heads up during difficult times like this, but for the first time ever, I’m saying fuck it. If I want to dive into the depths of darkness, I will.
“Madigan, is that what you want to do?” Reggie looks at me. His eyes tell me how sorry he is. How he wishes he could take this pain away from me.
“Sure,” I reply, having no idea what I’ve just agreed to.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“If it’s out of your hands, it deserves freedom from your mind too.”
~ Ivan Nuru
Madigan
It’s been a week since I was in the emergency room being told news that would shake me to my core. Since then, I’ve spent most of my time curled up in Reggie’s bed with pulled curtains, trying to figure out why this happened.
I had surgery the following day, a procedure called a D&C, where they dilate the cervix and remove all the tissue. They said it’s sometimes easier on the mind to have it all taken from you as quickly as possible versus waiting and allowing the body to do what it naturally should. If I had known then what I do now, I never would’ve gotten the surgery. The guilt that came with it has been too much to bear. Even though I saw that there was no heartbeat, it still felt wrong. Honestly, it still does.
Honey is sitting next to me with her head on my lap. If I weren’t so stuck in my own head, I’d probably tell her to go away or lay down on her own bed. Over the last week though, she’s become a good friend of mine. She licks my face when I cry, snuggles with me when I need companionship, and only leaves whenever she has to go potty. Reggie wasn’t kidding when he told me she was a sweetheart. After everything, my opinion is starting to change when it comes to her.
Reggie has been giving me space which I appreciate. I went off on him when we came home from the hospital because I wanted to be alone. I won’t say needed because it simply isn’t true. I chose to grovel in my pain and cry my heart out.
Now, I’m over here trying to pull my shit together and act human again.
Even though I’ve been keeping to myself, I can tell that something is going on in the world that surrounds me. Reggie has been talking to Cal in hushed whispers whenever I venture to the kitchen for water. I don’t stay out there, though. Instead, I head straight back into my room but I know something is happening. If it wasn’t, they wouldn’t lower their voices.
The door to our bedroom opens and with it comes Reggie. Honey lifts her head up to look at her master and whines, wiggling her butt as he gets closer. “You feeling up to having some company?”
I give him a knowing look, showing him how I really don’t want to see anyone. I’m trying to process everything the best that I can, but I need to do that on my own. Or at least, that’s what I think right now.
“Well, I hate to tell you but Selena and Brooklyn are outside in the living room sitting on the couch. So, if I were you, I’d go out and talk to them.”
“I don’t feel like talking,” I mumble, scratching Honey behind her ears.
“I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling, babe. But you have to talk to someone. You’re barely saying a word to me and everyone is worried about you. Christian is sick about you, keeps hassling me every three hours to give him updates. I know it’s a lot, but go out and talk to the girls. It might ease their minds a bit and who knows, it might even help you feel a bit better.”
Reggie is obviously trying to help pull me out of my emotional rut, as the rest of my family is too, but I doubt it’ll be that easy.
“Fine. I’ll go out there, but the dog comes with me and I need ten minutes to change.”
“You look beautiful.”
“I look like I’m homeless,” I grumble back, getting a smile out of him. “Why the hell are you smirking?”
“It’s the first time in a week that you’ve got sassy with me. What can I say, I missed it.” It’s only a small step, but it’s progress.
“I’ll be sure to be a sassy bitch to you more often,” I tell him, walking over to his walk-in closet that I’ve taken as my own. I grab a pair of jeggings, a black t-shirt, and some fresh socks from my tote on the floor.
Even though I’ve been sticking to the comforts of our bedroom, at least I can say I have been showering every morning so my hair and face are already wiped clean. I pick up a bra and panties too, stripping out of the cotton shorts and Reggie’s old t-shirt. After a couple of minutes, I’m completely changed and quickly run a brush through my hair.
When I walk out of the bedroom, I can see Brooklyn peering over the couch, looking down the hallway. I guess she must be eager to see me. Meanwhile, as I get closer to the both of them, I can see Selena is typing away on her cell phone, muttering something about the manager she hired for her bar not doing his job.
“You could always just fire him.”
“Her and I need a better reason than firing her because she’s a two-faced scumbag, but we’re here to talk about you, not my bullshit.”
Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection Page 38
