Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Good,” I reply. “That’s good.”
They both look at me, and I shrug.
“I don’t mourn the loss of them,” I answer. “Alexei deserved better for a father than Sergei.”
“Yes, well,” Lachlan replies, “It wasn’t just them. Katya’s dead too. And a whole host of any other men that ever touched you.”
I blink.
And my heart aches at the thought of Alexei on his murderous rampage. I can only hope that it has given him what he needs. Some peace.
But I doubt it.
His father had always been the root of his issues. And Katya didn’t help.
They were the reason he did not trust me. The reason he told me he could never love me. And he was right.
I blink back tears, and Lachlan meets my watery gaze.
“I know you care about him,” he tells me. “But you need to make a decision, Talia. You need to decide if you can move on from this. Without him. Because I can’t keep going back there.”
The pain on Lachlan’s face guts me. Because he is hurting for Alexei. But still, he is loyal to me. I cup my face in my hands and try to pull myself together. I know he’s right. That none of this is fair to anyone.
But I still don’t know what to do.
I don’t know anything.
So I do what I’ve always done. The thing I do best.
I avoid it altogether.
52
Talia
Mack has had her baby.
A little girl.
They named her Keeva Crow. And she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. When I get a chance to hold her, it scares and thrills me.
And I think of Alexei. Again.
Lachlan was there for Mack every step of the way. He was in the delivery room, coaching her through the delivery and cutting the cord. Kissing her forehead and holding his daughter for the first time with blinding love.
It makes me ache.
I won’t have that. I will go through it alone, just as I always have been.
Mack says she will be there with me, but it’s not the same. It’s just not the same.
I keep telling myself that I have more time to prepare. That by the time that I go into labor, I will be stronger. That I will be mentally prepared.
Only, that isn’t true.
Because my water breaks two weeks early when I’m alone in my bed. I’m fumbling for my cell phone when Lachlan’s guard comes in to check on me.
He’s young, and his name is Conor. He’s been staying at the safe house with me, watching over me. And right now, I’ve never been so grateful for his presence.
“Everything good?” he asks.
His eyes widen when I flip off the covers and he sees the bed.
“No,” I tell him. “It’s time. Now.”
“Now?” he squeaks.
“Yes, now,” I growl. “Help me, please.”
“Right.” He steps into action, coming at me like he has no frigging idea what to do. Which he probably doesn’t.
“Just take me to the… ugg.”
I double over in pain with a contraction. “Take me to the hospital.”
Conor gets me into the car and asks me what else we need to bring. But I don’t know. Because I haven’t packed anything. I barely have anything.
“Just take me,” I groan.
And he does. He drives like a lunatic which only makes it worse. But I’m sweating, gripping the door handle, and trying to breathe through the pain.
Something isn’t right.
I know it in my gut.
It’s happening too fast. The pain is too intense. This baby is coming now.
“I don’t know if I’m going to make it there,” I tell Conor.
“You have to,” he shouts. “I can’t deliver a baby.”
“Pull over!” I scream at him. “And call an ambulance.”
He does. And while he’s on the phone, I’m delivering in the backseat of the car.
“I need your help!” I yell. “Fucking Christ.”
Conor comes around to help me and nearly passes out when he sees the baby’s head.
“Just breathe,” he tells me.
“I am fucking breathing.”
I arch back in pain as the contractions come hard and quick. And it’s happening. Three more pushes, and my baby is born. In the backseat of the car, in the middle of Boston.
The ambulance arrives just in time. And the paramedics quickly usher me and the baby onto a stretcher. Everything is in chaos around us, but I can only look at him as they bundle him into my arms.
He looks so much like his father.
I’m crying. I’m in shock. And I’m in love.
They start to close the doors with Conor still outside, looking lost and traumatized.
“You’re coming with me,” I tell him.
“What?” he looks horrified by the idea. “No.”
“Yes.”
He comes.
I grab onto his arm as they start checking our vitals. “You have to call him.”
“Lachlan?”
“Alexei. You have to call Alexei.”
He blinks in confusion.
“Now.”
“Okay, okay. I’m calling him. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Just tell him I need him here. Please.”
And then they are wheeling me into the hospital.