by Chloe Walsh
Red flags had been going up in my mind all evening and her silence was worrying the hell out of me.
She had fear in her eyes and it made me feel stabby.
She didn’t need to be afraid around me. I was the last person on earth who would ever lay a hand on her.
"Hunter?" she finally said, several hours later, when we were sitting on the couch after dinner
"Yeah, sweetheart?" I forced myself to mask my absolute relief at having her finally talk.
"There's something that we need to talk about."
Panic churned inside of my gut. "I'm listening."
"There's something I haven't told you," she added and then bit down on her bottom lip. "Something bad."
Breathe, Luck...
Just keep fucking breathing, man…
Turning on the couch, I looked her straight in the eyes, giving her my undivided attention. "You can tell me anything," I coaxed when I saw the tears in her eyes.
This is bad…
This is bad…
This is going to be so fucking bad…
"You have to promise me that you won't do anything," she said. "Promise me, Hunter, that you will not do anything."
I knew that whatever Hope was going to tell me was going to hurt like a motherfucker, it was written all over her face, but I forced myself to say, "I won't do anything."
She clasped her hands tightly together, bottom lip quivering, as she whispered, "The night I went back to Jordan's house…" Her voice broke off and she took several short, fast breaths before continuing, "He was drinking…maybe drugs? I'm not sure." The tears in her eyes slipped out, streaming in two lines down her cheeks. "But he…he pushed me down on the bed and he held me there."
My blood ran cold.
I couldn’t fucking move a muscle.
I felt like my whole world had frozen solid and the rest of my life rested on the next words that came out of her mouth.
I prayed she wouldn’t say what I thought she was about to say.
"And he wouldn’t stop," she strangled out hoarsely. "I told him to – I promise I told him to stop…I begged him! I said no, Hunter."
"He raped you," I whispered.
"I couldn’t move! My body just stopped working." A huge racking sob tore through her then. "He kept telling me that he loved me, and I kept begging him to just stop. But he wouldn’t listen!" She threw herself forward then, scrambling onto my lap. "Please," she cried, clutching my body. "You have to believe me…I didn’t want it…I didn’t!"
"Believe you?" Straining my head back so I could look at her face, I said, "Of course I believe you, Hope."
"The worst thing is, I don’t think he knew he was doing it, if that makes sense?" she sobbed. "That's what makes it so bad."
No.
What made it bad was him getting a hall pass because he was drinking.
What made it bad was a woman saying no and a man ignoring her words.
What made it so fucking bad was him raping her!
****
Hope
He believed me.
I told him the ugliest truth in my soul, the most traumatic and mind-blowingly painful experience of my life, and Hunter believed me without an ounce of doubt.
He didn’t question my truth.
He didn’t push for more.
He took what I told him and he handled it.
He didn’t react.
He stayed right here with me.
For the rest of the night, I clung to his body, needing the feel of him to keep me grounded, needing the security.
And later that night, when we eventually went to bed, he didn’t treat me differently now that he knew.
Instead, he gave me everything and more.
Loving me until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
My final thought before I drifted off to sleep in his arms was tomorrow…
Tomorrow, I will tell him about the baby.
****
Chapter Fifty-Two
Lucky
When I slipped out of my apartment in the middle of the night, leaving Hope sleeping in my bed, it was because of the phone call I'd received from G.
He had another job for me, and I had some choice fucking words for him in return.
However, when I was heading to my truck and noticed the same black Camaro that followed Hope wherever she was, parked outside my building, I felt my temper reign in.
Gonzalez was keeping up his side of the deal –protection – so I had no problem keeping up my end.
But once I was done, once I had my business affairs squared off, it was time to get shit done on a personal level.
I found him on the fourth floor, room 38.
Looking through the small rectangular panel of glass, I stared at the man who had caused Hope so much pain.
He was alone.
Slipping past the sleeping nurse outside his door, I walked inside the room, and quietly closed the door behind me before walking over to the empty chair at his bedside.
Settling down in the chair, I placed my hands on the armrests and watched him sleep.
He wanted to die.
I could make it quick.
No one would know.
I was very creative.
So why wasn’t I moving?
He didn’t deserve mercy.
An eye for an eye.
Rape my woman, and I take your life; it was simple math.
Hitting her.
Blackmailing her.
Forcing her.
I waited for the instinct to rise up inside of me; the one that came right before a kill.
But it didn’t come.
Instead of fury, I felt pity.
I didn’t want to feel it, because he didn’t fucking deserve it.
He opened his eyes then, and turned to face me. "What are you waiting for?"
"I don’t know," I replied honestly.
"I deserve it," he whispered.
I nodded. "Yeah, you do."
"Is…" He closed his eyes and I watched a lone tear roll down his cheek. "Is she okay?"
"She was raped by a monster she trusted. How the fuck would she be okay?"
He flinched at my words.
Good, he fucking deserved them.
"I didn’t know what I was doing that night," he choked out. "I was drunk and high and completely fucked in the head."
"I don’t care."
"I don’t even remember," he whispered.
"I don’t care."
"I never wanted to hurt her."
"I came here to kill you."
"I know," he whispered. "I've been waiting for you…hoping you'd come."
"I've been going through it in my mind for months now," I explained calmly, though how I was calm right now was beyond me. "All the different ways I could do it. The countless ways I could end your life." Shifting, I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my thighs. "But I realized something tonight." I studied his gaunt face and shook my head. "There's nothing to end, is there?"
"You should just do it," he croaked out.
"For the past thirteen years, I've never hesitated." I looked him dead in the eye. "I've never cared."
"You don’t care about me," he bit out.
"No. I don’t. But I love her," I told him. "I care about her. And she cares about you."
He flinched again. "She shouldn’t."
"But she does," I confirmed. "So, for her sake, you better be worth sparing."
"I'm not worth it," he whispered. "I'm nothing."
"I agree," I told him, keeping my eyes trained on his. "But she doesn’t. So maybe she's right. Maybe there's something worth saving in there," I added. "Not with Hope. That's been dead in the water before I even met her. But with someone else. Or somewhere else." Shrugging, I leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Then again, maybe I'm right, and you really are a worthless piece of shit that deserves nothing less than to suffer for the rest of your junkie, rapist life."
"I don’t want your advice," he strang
led out. "I want you to put me out of my goddamn misery."
"I'm not going to do that for you," I replied, realizing that I had made my decision. "I'm not giving you the easy way out."
"Are you afraid?" he goaded, desperate.
"I want you to know something." Standing slowly, I kept my eyes on his. "I want you to know that even though you've hurt that woman beyond redemption in my eyes, she still tried to protect you. You've got a father and a mother frantic with concern, because they love you." Shaking my head, I added, "You've got more than most. Remember that."
And then I turned around and walked away.
"Can you tell her something for me?" he called out hoarsely. "Can you tell her it's not mine?"
Frozen in the doorway, I looked back at him. "What's not yours?"
"I had a successful vasectomy last year," he croaked out hoarsely. "The baby has to be yours."
Completely fucking reeling, I closed the door again, and walked back to his bed. "She's pregnant?" I hissed, glaring down at him.
"It's not mine," he stated, drawing me back from the brink of a personal fucking meltdown. "I had a vasect–"
"You already said that," I snarled, needing him to shut the fuck up for a minute so I could figure this out.
Hope was pregnant?
She was having a baby?
And this prick knew about it?
Running a hand through my hair, I looked down at him and asked, "Why?"
He frowned. "Why?"
The elation inside growing inside of me at the thought of Hope being pregnant was threatened by the chance of this fucker lying to me.
"The vasectomy," I bit out, gaging his face for the hint of a lie. "Why'd you get it done?"
"Look at me," he shot back flatly. "Do you think I want to be responsible for bringing a child into the world when it would have a father like me?" He released a ragged breath, then added, "I got it done when I woke up after yet another slip up, and realized that I had no idea what I was doing when I was high."
"Thought you were clean longer than eighteen months," I shot back, unyielding. "Or are you just lying through your goddamn teeth again?"
"Heroin," he whispered, flinching. "I was clean from Heroin for six years –" Pausing, he exhaled shakily. "But alcohol? I never seem to get beyond the six-month mark before falling back off again… and when I'm wasted and desperate? I'm not in control." He shook his head. "All I want is H and booze, and believe me when I tell you that there is no level I haven't stooped to in order to get them – which is exactly why I had to get it done."
Well shit…
If he was lying to me, he could forget about mercy.
And fuck turning the other cheek.
If he was lying to me, I was going to gut the bastard like a fish.
"I'm not lying," he stated flatly, obviously reading my thoughts. "I'm sterile. The kid's yours. Congratu-fucking-lations."
****
Hope
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I found Hunter sitting at the edge of the bed, fully dressed, and staring down at me.
"Morning," he said, blue eyes burning with heat. He trailed his thumb down my cheek, then leaned in and kissed me deeply.
"What's that for?" I whispered, blinking up at him.
"I know, Hope," he said. "I know you're pregnant, sweetheart."
My heart stopped beating in my chest.
How?
Was I talking in my sleep again?
Oh god…
Panic-stricken, I scrambled into a sitting position. "Hunter, I swear I was going to tell you today," I began to say, completely flustered. "But I was scared and I didn’t know…but then I –"
Hunter shut me up with a kiss so hot, I felt the burn right down to the tips of my toes. "It's mine," he whispered against my lips. "That baby you've got cooking in there?" He kissed me again. "I put it inside you."
My heart sank.
"What if it's –"
"It's mine," he interrupted, pressing his lips to mine again. "My woman, and my baby."
"It only takes one time, Hunter," I forced myself to say, feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of it. But he needed to understand. "It could be–"
"He's sterile."
Mind.
Fricking.
Blown.
"What?" Gaping, I scrambled into a sitting position once more. "What do you mean he's sterile?"
"I went to see him last night," he replied, rubbing his jaw. "Don’t worry," he added quickly. "He's still alive." Reaching over, Hunter tucked a rogue curl behind my ear and sighed. "He had a vasectomy eighteen months ago, Hope."
"Really?" I whispered, closing the space between us, as a tsunami of hope flooded my heart. "Really?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," Hunter replied, tone soothing. "I'm your baby-daddy."
I was connected to him, in every sense of the word.
My heart.
My body.
My soul.
My womb.
Everything was laced, and tinged, and filled with Hunter Casarazzi.
Scrambling onto his lap, I wrapped my arms and legs around his body. A cry of pure relief tore out of me. "Oh, thank god."
"It wouldn’t have changed anything for me," he told me then, wrapping his arms around me. "You know that, right?" He craned his head back to look at me. "It would've been hard, HC, but I would still be here."
He needed to stop saying these beautiful words because he was killing me.
My heart?
I didn’t think it could take the pressure.
I loved him that much.
"I feel like I can finally breathe again," I admitted hoarsely. "I've been so scared. The not knowing was killing me. I couldn’t even get excited about the baby."
"Are you excited about the baby?" he asked, smirking.
Biting down on my lip, I nodded. "In a completely petrified, I have no clue what I'm doing, kind of way."
"I really want this, Hope," he said gruffly, blue eyes locked on mine. "You and me? A baby?" He smiled and pressed his forehead to mine. "I want all of it. So fucking much."
****
Chapter Fifty-Three
Hope
The next month flew by in a crazy whirlwind of love, passion and excitement. I threw myself into planning the wedding with Teagan, reveling in delight of my baby's first scan, rolling around under the sheets with the man I loved, and just being me.
I hadn't stepped foot in my parents' house since the altercation.
If Hunter wasn’t welcome, then neither was I.
And even though Hunter was still doing some really shady stuff, like disappearing after phone calls to take care of 'business', I knew that it was for me.
It wouldn’t be forever– he promised me that.
But I had a feeling that even if it was, I would find a way to look past it.
That's how bound I was to the man.
I went to the family attorney and filed for divorce three weeks ago – much to Derek, Karen, and Mom's despair.
Apparently, it was both a tacky and heartless move, considering Jordan had just been admitted into a rehabilitation center, but to be really truthful, I didn’t give a damn anymore.
I was focusing on the family I was building with Hunter.
On my future.
To my astonishment, my attorney called me four days later to let me know that Jordan had signed the papers, stating no contest, and I was well on the way to being an unmarried woman once again.
I allowed myself to feel it all, every positive emotion and feeling, and refused point blank to dwell on the negativity surrounding my relationship with Hunter.
I had spent too much of my life worrying about what other people thought, and now?
Now I was living for me.
****
Lucky
"Cam," Hope gushed into the phone. "Is everything okay?"
I watched from the bathroom doorway as Hope bounced restlessly on our bed, listening eagerly to whatever her brothe
r said on the other line.
Slowly taking in the sight of her, I allowed my gaze to rake her over, revering in every soft curve and exposed slither of skin.
Nothing in my life had ever looked as good to me as she did.
The frown and knot of worry on her face was replaced with sheer elation then.
A tear slid down her cheek as she clenched her eyes shut and smiled the widest smile I'd seen on her face since our baby's ultrasound three weeks ago.
Our baby.
Fuck me, I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was.
"Wow," she finally whispered, grinning from ear to ear. "Congratulations."
She looked at me then and gave me a thumbs-up before turning her attention back to her phone call.
I smiled and shook my head.
She was so fucking adorable.
And she was mine.
Mine.
Fuck me, I must have done something epically right in a previous life to be given a woman like her.
"And Tillie?" she continued to say. "She's doing okay? Oh, thank god…Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Of course I will…Okay, Cam. I love you, too."
I waited for her to end the call before asking, "Well?"
Hope beamed at me. "I have a nephew!"
I grinned. "Congratulations, sweetheart."
"Seven pounds six ounces, and healthy as a horse," she added with an almost dreamy expression. "Liam Grayson Carter."
Tightening the towel I had wrapped around my waist, I walked over to where she was sitting and pulled her in for a hug.
She looked like she needed one.
She was shaking and smiling and her emotions were obviously all over the place.
"He's a father, Hunter," she whispered, squeezing me back. "Cam is a daddy."
I couldn’t believe it, either.
I'd known Cam for a few years now, and the thought of him having a baby to take care of was fucking crazy.
He'd do a good job, though.
He had a good role model growing up.
Me, on the other hand?
