My heart thrummed inside my chest as I waited for the results, tears pooling in my eyes. I’d been safe, secretly taking birth control for the last three years just so I wouldn’t get pregnant by him again.How did it fail? Why was this my fucking life?
A soft knock on the door had me jumping, and I hugged myself a little tighter.
“You okay in there?” Clash asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I held back a sob, choking out the words, “I can’t bring myself to look at it.”
The door opened slowly, and Clash stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He stared at the stick on the counter before his gaze dropped down to the spot where I was curled into a fetal position on the floor. Fear was a bitch that liked to fuck with my anxiety.
“Do you care if I look?”
I shook my head, not able to hold back the tears anymore.
Examining the stick, he laid it back on the counter, and sunk to the floor beside me, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. Why it brought me so much comfort, I didn’t understand. But it felt like I needed him in that moment. I needed his support.
“It only shows one line,” he told me.
It was like a giant weight was lifted off me, and I sagged against him, sobbing even more. These were relieved, happy tears now.
“Thank God,” I whispered, my cries muffled against his shirt. “I love my son, but the thought of having another child with that asshole, scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
I felt his arm curl around me. This complete stranger… a big, supposedly bad, burly biker, was comforting me in the middle of his bathroom like we’d been friends for years. Like he actually gave a fuck about me. I knew that was impossible since we just met, but it still felt nice in that moment.
“He really fucked you up, didn’t he?” Clash asked, his voice softened and not his usual grump.
“More than you will ever know.”
He chuckled. “I could kill him for you.”
Sleep started evading my thoughts, and I barely heard him speaking. Everything about the last few weeks was catching up to me, and it was like I was suddenly overwhelmed by it all.
“That’d be nice,” I said sleepily, yawning as my eyes fluttered closed.
At some point, I felt myself flying through the air, then the softness of fluffy clouds enveloping me.Flying is so much fun. I wish I could’ve learned to fly a few years ago, then maybe I wouldn’t have stayed with Eric as long as I did.
The heat of the sun beat down on my face, and through the slats on the blinds, beams of light invaded my peaceful sleeping space, stirring me awake. Beside me, a small body was curled up, and the cutest little snore filled the room.
A ceiling fan swirled above my head, and a fan on the table beside me, whirred, moving from side to side. I was in a bed—an unfamiliar one—but a bed, nonetheless. It was massive, at least a king, and the sheets and mattress felt like I was lying on fluffy clouds. It was then I realized that I never flew last night. I was carried to bed, and covered in fluffy cloud-like sheets, but bywho, I couldn’t remember. I was still waking up from my sleep coma, barely able to focus on a single thought.
Sitting up, I was careful not to disturb Alex as I examined my surroundings. It looked like I was in a loft. The room wasn’t that big, but there was a bathroom to my right, and a large walk-in closet with a mirrored door next to it. White sheets sat beneath a black comforter, and on a chair sitting next to the stairwell, was a dress laid out for me, and clothes for my son. There was a note taped to it that I couldn’t read from the bed.
A clock next to my head said that it was close to eight o’clock, and it made me wonder how long I was asleep for?
The bed dipped as I crawled out from beneath the blankets, making my way over to the dresser and note.
I washed all your new clothes for you. I figured you’d need some help after passing out the way you did, so I called in a favor or two. I’ll be back by nine. ~Clash~
It was all coming back to me now. I was on the run, sleeping behind dumpsters with my son to evade my husband that was probably out there looking for us. Desperation led me to getting in a Lyft and following a biker to his townhome. He bought us clothes… he bought my son toys… he bought us food.
He was also a pig that probably wanted something in return. Granted, besides a few little comments here and there, he didn’t act like he wanted anything more than to help me and Alex.
Begrudgingly, I pulled on some of the clothes he bought me, enjoying how soft and warm the fabric felt after nights of living on the cold, unforgiving streets.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so at home here, but I didn’t feel like running, at least not that second. I meandered into the bathroom, my heart stopping when I saw the pregnancy stick on the counter of the bathroom, and memories of last night came roaring back. It was hard to believe that someone like him couldbe so sweet underneath all that leather, but Eric was sweet once too, and I paid for that mistake every fucking day since he put a ring on my finger. Was I pregnant again? I couldn’t exactly remember, so just to be safe, I checked the stick myself.
Only one line. Thank God.
Knowing I wasn’t carrying another child of Eric’s inside me was a good thing. Now I could finish heading to Vegas like I wanted, meeting up with my sister who lived there. She had no idea I was coming, but at least she was family. And family was something I’d been lacking since I said I do. Eric forced me to cut off contact with everyone. He didn’t even allow me to go to my mother’s funeral when she passed away, using the excuse that we didn’t have the money for a last-minute plane ticket. That was a fucking lie. Just like all the other lies he consistently told me.
