by Sky Winters
“So do you think he has a fireman friend he can hook me up with?” Eileen asked after meeting Gordon briefly on his way in to work. “Even half as hot?”
“He’s mine,” Corinne answered. “But yeah there were quite a few guys at the firehouse when I showed up yesterday. Did I mention he can cook?” To that her stomach grumbled once again. She’d just eaten a full plate of Gordon’s delicious French toast like an hour ago.
“Let’s go to the diner across the street,” she suggested when they’d put away her meager belongings, being sure to place her mother’s candle sticks in the center of the table. It was her plan to surprise Gordon that night with a cooked meal of her own. Lasagna and garlic bread.
“Let’s go,” Corinne said, leading the way outside, like she knew where she was going.
They were half way through their lemon meringue pie when their laughter was cut short. Marcus walked through the door with a buddy from work and Corinne froze as their eyes met.
She swallowed hard and set her fork on the table as he excused himself and sauntered over to her.
“Well if it isn’t Eileen. You the one who talked her into leaving me?” he asked, growling a bit as he set his hands down hard on the table. His eyes glowed yellow for a moment as he attempted to intimidate her.
Eileen hissed in response. “It’s not the best neighborhood, is it?” she asked Corinne.
“Leave us alone,” Corinne said, flatly. “You signed the papers. It’s over.”
“I signed your stupid papers because I’m not an idiot. But it’s over when I say it’s over, babe.”
“I’m with someone else now,” Corinne said, glaring right at him.
“Already?” Marcus laughed. “Hooking up isn’t the same thing as being ‘with’ someone. That’s what you need to understand, babe. You’re my wife. Wolves mate for life.”
Corinne doubted that, but it didn’t really matter. “Well this one didn’t. Get out.”
“This is a public place, babe. You think you own it?”
Corinne glanced around the restaurant, crowed with people enjoying lunch and paying no attention to her predicament. It wouldn’t take a lot to attract some stares though if need be.
“I didn’t hook up; Gordon and I are together.”
Marcus growled, pounding his hands down on the table again and making her water shake. “Does he know you’re married?”
“He knows we were married, Marcus. I have signed papers, remember?”
“Fuck the papers, Corinne.”
Marcus worked his way into the booth next to her, forcing her to move further in and trapping her inside. “Gaining a little weight already?” he asked, poking at her stomach.
She held her hands protectively over her and glanced at Eileen.
Eileen hissed again. Louder this time, before saying, “She’s pregnant, you idiot. You were shooting blanks. How do you like that? Make you feel like a big bad wolf?”
“What the fuck?” Marcus turned back toward Corinne who was glaring at Eileen, steaming that she’d said that. He didn’t need to know.
“None of your business.”
“Is it mine?” he asked, staring hard at her stomach like he could x-ray it.
“No. We haven’t had sex in ages and shifter pregnancies take effect almost immediately,” Corinne said, enjoying her new knowledge. “So get. The. Fuck. Out.”
Marcus’ nostrils flared in anger, but Corinne’s anger flared too as she silently dared him to try and knock this table over. She’d press charges. He’d be lucky if he survived after Gordon found out.
“Fine,” he said, glancing around at the people who were finally starting take notice. Beneath the table he set a hand on her thigh, squeezing hard. “But don’t think this is over. You can’t embarrass me like this, Corinne. I’ll fuck up your man to start.”
Eileen let out a loud snort. “Go ahead and try, idiot. I’d love to see him chew you up and spit you out.”
“Bitch,” Marcus muttered as he backed out of the booth.
“Everything okay over here, sweetie?” the kind waitress – Loretta, same as the night she’d come with Gordon – asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. She looked straight at Corinne, ignoring Marcus.
“We’re fine, thanks. Delicious pie,” Marcus said in an overly fake voice.
“You sure, hon?” the waitress asked Corinne.
“I’ll talk to you later, babe.” Marcus took the hint but not before grabbing Corinne’s fork and cramming the last of her pie in his mouth before walking away.
“Let’s get out of here,” Corinne said, trying to stop from shaking. She didn’t need his threats.
When Gordon came home that night, he saw right away something was wrong and wiped away her tears as she told him the story. His stone cold expression sent shivers through her even though she knew it was aimed at Marcus.
“I can take care of this,” he said.
“No!” Corinne shouted. “No. I don’t want you getting hurt or in trouble with the police or anything. Just let it go. He’s a coward and an asshole.”
When he started to protest she stopped him with her kisses and spent the next few hours discovering new positions around the duplex, her favorite being the bathroom counter, back against the cool smooth glass of the mirror and legs wrapped around his waist.
When she drifted off that night, it wasn’t sweet dreams that greeted her though. It was Marcus, pinning her in the same booth and forcing himself on her while everyone else kept chatting and eating, oblivious.
She woke up crying with Gordon at her side, comforting her. But she wouldn’t tell him the dream. She couldn’t. Not if it meant he was going to go after Marcus.
“Hormones,” she said when she got herself under control. Marcus smiled, spooning her again and kissing her neck from behind.
The next morning, she asked to come to work with him. She didn’t want to be alone in the house. What if Marcus found out where she was?
Gordon was proud to bring her back to the fire station and show her off. And when they got a call to a fire raging in her old neighborhood, he kissed her deeply before jumping on the back of the giant red truck.
“Be back soon,” he said, as they sped off, sirens flashing red shadows over him.
“I’ll take good care of her,” his friend and fellow fireman, Steve, said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Corinne didn’t like being apart from Gordon, but she appreciated having at least one big strong guy around as a bodyguard.
“You hungry?” he asked after playing a game of monopoly.
“Starving,” she agreed.
“I’m no Gordon in the kitchen. How about I run out and grab us a pizza?” he offered.
“Sounds great. Thanks.” Corinne watched from the window as he darted across the way to the strip mall and disappeared. She was just turning away when she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye.
She swung back around, pressing her palms against the window and narrowing her eyes. In the alley just across from her, feet from where Steve had disappeared, she saw Marcus, hair messy, beard longer than ever.
She quickly backed away, letting the blinds fall closed and ran to the kitchen where she found the biggest butcher knife she could and held it ready, behind the counter, as she stared at the back of the door, waiting.
It was the longest twenty minutes of her life until the door handle moved and her heart raced. But the moment Steve stepped through the door with the pizza, she relaxed and set the knife on the counter before he could see.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said, setting it on the table and flipping the box top open to release the incredible smell into the air. “There was this guy who kept asking about the station. That happens sometimes. People get all weird around us like we’re super heroes or something. He especially wanted to know about Gordon, but that’s not unusual. Your new man is something of a real local hero you know. No one puts out fires faster or easier.”
“You’re a
hero too,” Corinne agreed, sitting down and taking a piece of gooey cheese pizza. “What you do is amazing – risking your life for innocent victims.” But she suspected it wasn’t a fan who’d been asking for information. Why couldn’t Marcus just leave her alone?
Maybe she should confront him. Find out what it was he wanted from her. She’d never have any peace unless she did and she didn’t want Gordon ruining his life because of her shithead ex.
“I’m going to take a walk,” she said after her third piece of pizza. You don’t mind do you?”
Steve looked nervous. “I said I’d watch out for you, but I can’t leave the fire house. I have to stay in case there’s another emergency.”
“That’s okay,” Corinne smiled, putting on her flirt. “What could happen? I’ll only be gone like ten minutes.” Then when he still looked uncertain. “I’m feeling kind of nauseous, I need fresh air.” Corinne rubbed her stomach for effect. Her jeans had already grown tight so she was wearing a flowing dress and pressed the material down around her to show off the bulbous shape.
“Oh. Okay. But if you need anything just text.” Steve grabbed her phone and punched in his number before handing it back.
“Thanks,” she said and tried not to rush out the door.
Corinne glanced both ways before dashing across the street. She glanced in the alley first, but saw no sign of Marcus. She checked the pizza place and a couple of other stores, but there was no sign of him.
Not ready to give up, Corrine texted him quickly. Where are you?
The answer came a minute later. With a mutual friend.
Corinne froze. What did that mean?
A picture appeared and she stared, waiting for it to download all the way. When it did she nearly dropped her phone.
It was Eileen, naked on her bed, seemingly unconscious.
WTF? She typed.
No answer.
She texted Eileen, hoping it was some photoshopped gag.
Nothing.
Corinne hurried back across the street, feeling ill. She called the police on the way and waited impatiently for an hour until she received a call back, trying to pretend for Steve that everything was fine. She was relieved when he finally went off to the kitchen to work on chopping veggies for dinner and the others eventual return.
When the police called back she pressed the phone to her ear and listened, walking to the far corner of the station house so he couldn’t hear.
“Nothing?” she asked. “You’re sure?”
All the police found was a drunk naked woman in her own bed who chased them away when they woke her. No reason to suspect any foul play.
“Someone had to teach that cocky bitch a lesson,” Marcus said from behind.
Corinne spun around to face him right there in the fire station.
“Steve!” she yelled.
“The normal?” Marcus asked with a chuckle and gestured toward the small kitchen with a nod of his head.
Corinne whizzed past him and approached the small space with a sense of dread as Marcus plopped down at the table and took a piece of pizza. Steve’s feet came into view first, followed by the rest of him. He was out cold. She dropped to his side, fear pounding in her head and chest.
“He’s alive. He didn’t even see what hit him,” Marcus said around a mouthful of pizza. “I’m not stupid. I know how to cover my tracks.”
“What do you want from me?” Corinne asked, standing up. Anger taking over and infusing her with courage.
“I want you to be a good little wife and come back to me where you belong. I’ll even accept your bastard kid as my own.”
Corinne hugged her stomach again. “What the fuck did you do to Eileen?”
“I gave her what she needed. A good fuck to put her in her place. She’s still just a bitch no matter how big she is. Now she knows I’m not shooting blanks.”
“You raped her?” Corinne’s voice rose an entire octave.
Marcus shrugged and tossed his half-eaten piece of pizza back in the box. “She begged for it in the end.”
Corinne’s hands shook with rage as she clenched them into fists at her side. “Bullshit.”
“Jealous?” he asked, standing up.
Corinne stopped in her tracks. Marcus was fucking insane. Criminally insane. She knew he was a loose cannon, but not like this. He’d hurt – almost killed two people just to get to her. “I’m never going back to you,” she said, as calmly as possible. “I can’t stand you – the real you. I was a blind idiot not to see it before.”
“That so?” Marcus asked, stalking forward and backing her into the counter. “Because either you’re coming back to me,” he whispered, curling a lock of her hair around his finger and laying his other hand on the swell of her stomach. “Or you and baby aren’t going to be long for this world. And believe me no one will ever bother looking into your death.”
Corinne shoved at his wrist, but he yanked her by the hair and slid his other hand up to her breast, which he squeezed so hard she cried out in pain. “I remember how you liked it rough,” Marcus said, nipping at her neck. “I bet he doesn’t make you scream like I used to.”
Corinne let out a sob as his hand wandered from her breast to her skirt, which he gathered up so he could reach beneath. “Does he know how you like to be stroked?” Marcus asked, shoving his hand in her panties.
“Get. Off.” Corinne groped behind her and grabbed the nearest thing possible smashing it down on his head.
The cup shattered, glass splintering around them and sprinkling the ground. Marcus grabbed at his forehead and stumbled backward.
“Bitch,” he growled, muscles straining and swelling beneath his shirt, eyes burning yellow. His teeth began to grow, long fangs protruding from his mouth as he shifted before her eyes.
But before he could morph completely into the wolf and no doubt rip out her throat, the sound of sirens sang outside the walls. The roar of a giant engine stopped and masculine voices wound their way into the station house.
Marcus howled and darted out the front door.
Corinne was still frozen in place when the men came in, sooty and worn out, but in good spirits until they saw Steve on the ground and Corinne shaking and clutching the edge of the counter.
“Corinne!” Gordon ran to her side and pulled her into his arms, alternating between holding her and examining her at arms-length to make sure she was okay.
“What the hell happened?” The chief with the mustache said. “Steve? Are you okay?” He asked his man as he was helped unsteadily to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Steve said, “I must’ve just blacked out. Corinne. Is she okay?”
“I’m okay,” Corinne said, finally finding her voice. “I was scared. For Steve. I…I didn’t know what to do.”
Marcus was unhinged. That was certain. And he’d already hurt her friend she thought was invincible. What if he did something to Gordon? Or worse to the baby? She couldn’t let him near the baby. She had to get away.
“It was Marcus, wasn’t it?” Gordon asked in a low voice, narrowing his eyes like he could see right through to her thoughts.
“No,” she protested, looking straight back into his face. “Lord no. I think Steve fell or something. I went out for a walk and when I came in I found him like that.”
“Well as long as everyone is okay,” Chief said, still looking puzzled. “Why don’t you take the lady home, Gordon? She’s pretty shaken and in her condition…”
“Of course. Thanks, Chief.” Gordon led Corinne out by the hand, guiding her to the car.
“I know it was him, Corinne. He’s got you scared out of your wits. What did he do?”
“Don’t be paranoid,” Corinne said, leaning back into the seat. “Let’s talk about happy things, okay? Tomorrow morning is our appointment with Dr. Fontaine.”
Gordon sighed deeply, but placed his hand over hers. “That is exciting.”
“Have you thought about names?” Corinne asked, already planning what she had to do a
bout the situation in her head.
“I like Emilia if it’s a girl,” Gordon said.
“That’s pretty,” Corinne agreed, “But I have a feeling it’s a boy.”
“Really?” Gordon sounded truly excited. “Well, something strong like… Charlie, maybe?”
“Charlie,” Corinne repeated. “I like that.”
She hated how much it was going to hurt him when she had to leave. But he couldn’t know and it was for his own good. She couldn’t live with herself if she selfishly stayed and he was hurt by Marcus. It wasn’t fair to Charlie to take him from his father, but he was in danger too. Even if she went back to Marcus to calm him down now, who’s to say what would happen in the future?
No. She had to leave. To disappear. And no one else could know. She’d start over somewhere else where Marcus couldn’t get to her or Charlie. And she’d do it as soon as Gordon went to work tomorrow. Right after the doctor appointment.
Chapter 7
The appointment the next morning was bitter sweet. Gordon doted on her as always and the doctor surprised them with a private sonogram, saying that in the case of dragon shifters, the babies were so large and grew so rapidly, they should be able to see it already.
Sure enough with her belly bare and cold jelly on top, when he pressed the instrument down over her stomach the image formed on the small black and white screen before them, revealing a tiny peanut shaped baby with the smallest arms and curled up legs she could imagine. He wiggled there, the umbilical cord safely tying him to her, and when he stretched a little, both she and Gordon teared up.
Every time she saw Gordon’s face, so full of happiness and love, she had a harder time imagining going through with her plan. But she had to, she reminded herself, not just for him, but for that tiny innocent child inside of her.
“Can you tell what it is?” Gordon asked the doctor.
“Not yet,” he said with a smile.
“It’s a boy,” Corinne insisted. “Charlie.”
Gordon squeezed her hand as the doctor admitted that many times mothers seem to have a strong sixth sense about these things. “But just in case, don’t go painting the bedroom pink just yet,” he warned.
