Page 147 of Savage Surrender

She’s good.

The man who manufactured me is dead keeps playing on repeat in my head between the cramps and my worry for the guys.

I can’t even enjoy the one good thing buried inside this whole fucking mess.

The marks burn under my oversized T-shirt. I press my fingers against each one and silently beg for them to come home to me.

“They’re okay,” he says, winding one of my scrunchies around his fingers again.

He moves closer until our thighs touch beneath the blanket. A cramp winds low through my stomach. I count to thirty before it lets go.

“Another one?” Megan asks. I nod.

Her phone lights her face again, like it does every few minutes when she checks, then goes black. She flings it on the couch with annoyance.

I lay my hand over hers, and she twines our fingers together, the grip almost painful. I squeeze.

When a pair of headlights moves across the ceiling, we’re all on our feet in an instant.

The room tilts when I stand, and Freddie catches my waist while Megan has her gun out and pointed at the floor.

“It’s me!” Clara calls through the door with a nervous chuckle. “Winston sent Ben with me, so don’t shoot.”

Megan checks the side window before she unlocks anything. Clara slips inside with her raincoat pulled over her stomach and a pharmacy bag in one hand. Ben waits on the porch.

“Sit down for me.” Clara takes my temperature and pulse while I tell her about the cramps. Her stomach presses lightly against my knee when she leans in.

“Matt’s friend from the hospital was able to get this for you.” Clara opens the pharmacy bag and removes a foil packet with two tablets inside. “It’s contraception and it starts working right away. Take both.”

“These might make you nauseous.” Clara sets the pills in my palm. “If you have heavy bleeding or trouble breathing, you call me.”

I pop them in my mouth and swallow dry. Freddie rushes to bring me water. “Thanks, Clara.”

She squeezes my shoulder and stands. “If you need anything, you call us. Okay?”

She gives me a hug, and I watch from the window as she leaves.

By the time the movie ends, my bones feel too heavy to keep upright. The cramps are getting worse, but I’m not in the mood to try and relieve them. I make it upstairs with Freddie one step behind me while Megan starts another movie.

My bedroom looks smaller than it did when I lived here. The bed takes up too much of the wall. I lie down without changing and make Freddie get in beside me.

“Closer,” I practically beg, even though he’s already touching me.

He moves until there isn’t room for another breath between us, his whole body wrapped around mine. His scent settles over the room, but my body won’t stop hunting for them.

“Wake me up if you hear from them.”

I close my eyes as another cramp pulls tight. I must make some kind of sound, because Freddie rubs his palm against my stomach. It’s warm and soothing. Better than a heating pad.

When I wake, my knees are drawn up and the pain has fangs.

It tears through my pelvis and locks every muscle along my spine. I cry out, and Freddie sits up, immediately alert.

“Hey. Talk to me, Bianca.”

“It hurts.”

My skin is clammy. The room is saturated with my sweet and desperate scent. The cramp loosens, but the emptiness it leaves behind is worse. Freddie’s scent floods the room in response, and my body demands his weight and the knot I don’t have yet.