“Shut up, Colt,” she whispers. “This is not the time. Please.”
“You heard her. Leave,” Alan says, but I ignore him and take a step closer to her.
“Not the time? You’re pregnant with my baby and didn’t tell me. You don’t get to say that this isn’t the right time. I was with you for hours yesterday. God, I feel like such an idiot. You were green and obviously pukin’, and I kept checkin’ your temperature like a fool.” She walks around me, out of the room and I follow behind her. She steps into a bathroom and slams the door in my face, but I push it open before she can lock it.
“What’s all the yelling?” Tara comes running down the hall. She quickly reads the room and steps between me and her sister while the rest of the family looks on.
“Vickie, is that true? Are you pregnant?” John asks.
Vickie flares her nostrils and looks around the room. I can hear her shallow breaths. She’s not done fighting me yet. “Colt, for once in your life, will you shut the hell up and leave? I’m not ready to talk about this right now. And where the hell is Evan? You know better than to leave him alone so you can come up here and harass me over stuff that’s none of your damn business.”
“That’s my baby. That’s my business.” I point at her belly to make myself clear.
She takes a deep breath and says, “It’s okay, Tara.” Tara steps from between us but she doesn’t leave. The entire family stands and watches.
Vickie takes a few slow steps and gets in my face. “Are you done?” She points a finger and glares at me. “Are you done giving me orders on what to do withmybody? Are you done announcing to the entire world that I’m pregnant? Something I’ve only just confirmed yesterday, by the way, but thanks for taking it upon yourself to tell my family. Was it too much for you to treat me like a human being and give me some time to get used to it before you bulldozed your way in here? Maybe I wanted to be the one to tell my parents, but you had to come and take that from me, didn’t you?” I open my mouth to defend myself, but she puts her palm to my face. “Shut the hell up.”
It’s my turn to look around like a crazed animal while everyone looks on. Her father narrows his eyes at me, walks to Vickie’s side and puts a protective arm around her.
“I think you better leave,” John says to me.
“I’m not going anywhere—” I begin.
“The hell you’re not,” he says.
“Not yet, Dad.” Vickie extricates herself from him and steps forward. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I’ll have my lawyer contact you. You give her the name of your attorney, and we’ll work out a custody agreement. I don’t want any contact with you again until this baby is born. You will be notified when that happens, but until then, I call the show. I run this,” I say, gesturing to my body. “If you have something to say, relay it to your attorney.” She walks past me, out of the bathroom, and disappears down the hall.
“Evan is always welcome here, but you’re not,” Tara says. She shakes her head in disgust. “Ethan, can you please get him out of here? Otherwise, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
FIFTY-FOUR
Eight hours later,I still haven’t calmed down. I had to stuff down my anger at Colt. I didn’t have time to be angry this morning. When Ethan took him away, I threw up for a full twenty minutes. Over ginger tea and dry toast, I confirmed what Colt so rudely announced to my family. Everyone was quiet around the breakfast table. Everyone but Vincent, who had no idea what was going on. He was only interested in talking to Alan. After breakfast, we all went back to the hospital to visit mother. She’s out of the ICU and in a private room until she’s discharged tomorrow. Dad and the evil one wanted me to spend the night with them after our day in the hospital, but I want space and time to think without everyone hovering over me.
Colt’s calls and texts so much, I turn my phone off. This is the first time I’ve been alone since yesterday, and all I want is a hot shower before I crawl into my bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. Or at least until I wake to throw up. But I did plenty of that today already. Hopefully this little nugget will give me a break until morning.
“Do you promise to let me sleep?” I ask my stomach as I rub it. “You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you, nugget?”
I had suspected I was pregnant for the past month. I had a period once since I left for Mexico, and that was just spotting. Looking back, it wasn’t a period at all. It wasn’t hard to get out of my contract. I was teaching at a religious, private school. It would not be a good look to have a pregnant, unmarried teacher, so they happily let me go when I implied I was pregnant. I was still in denial and hoped it was just stress, but when the vomiting started, I knew what it was, even though I didn’t confirm it until I had my sister with me.
After a steaming hot shower, I decide I’m going to put Colt out of my mind for now. Tomorrow, I’ll find a good family lawyer so that we can do everything by the book. Right now, I’m not ready to deal with the emotional side of everything. I’m not ready to think about this morning’s ugly scene and how betrayed I feel by his actions.
If he knew me at all, he’d have known that was the worst way he could have approached this. He would have known that was something we needed to discuss in private, but maybe he doesn’t care about me. He only cares about what he needs, but whatever he thinks, I’m the one who is pregnant. He’s going to have to do this my way, but that’s a fight for another day. Right now, all I want is to sleep.
* * *
I closemy eyes and will myself back to sleep, but the pounding on the door gets louder.
“Victoria!” Boom! Boom! Boom! “Let me in.”
If I had a gun, I would shoot Colt Chastain in the face and bury his body in Central Park, kidnap Evan and raise him as my own. He bangs on the door again, and I pull the covers off. It’s barely eight o’clock in the morning, which means I slept all night. I grab my robe and walk briskly to the door. I yank it open, ready to confront him, but my stomach does something funny and bile rises to my throat. I turn and run to the bathroom, tripping and almost falling along the way.
I kneel and my stomach contents go into the toilet. Most of them anyway. Some hit the toilet seat and slide down to the floor. I haven’t eaten much at all in the past week. I can’t stand the sight of food and most smells upset me, but the little broth I had last night comes back up, and the bile burns the back of my throat.
I hear his footsteps into the bathroom, and I wave my hand behind me. “Out!” I yell. For once, he does as he’s told and closes the door behind him. It takes twenty minutes for me to stop heaving. I hop in the shower after and spend extra time brushing my teeth. Even the peppermint in the toothpaste makes me nauseous, but I manage to keep the rest of my stomach contents inside.
He’s standing outside the bathroom and leaning against the wall when I step out. I ignore him, go to my room and lock the door behind me. After putting on a pair of yoga pants and a plain long-sleeved t-shirt, I take a deep breath, steel my spine, and leave my room. If Colt Chastain wants a fight, he’s about to get one. He might also get a punch in the face, so I hope he’s ready for that.
I find him in the bathroom, mopping my mess. That angers me even more, but I walk to the kitchen and put on water for tea. He finds me a few minutes later.
