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Stilling, I stared at myself in the mirror, my eyes as wide as saucers as I tried to do the math on my last period.
It couldn’t have been that long ago. It just wasn’t possible.
My shaking hands opened the cabinet again, but this time my fingers clasped on to the thing I needed most: a pregnancy test. Everything was blurring together as I robotically moved back to the toilet, did what I needed to on the stick, then rested it next to the sink.
I systematically washed my hands, waiting for the time to be up. Part of me didn’t want to look at the screen and get the answers my brain already knew, but I was reaching for it anyway, staring at it, and not believing what I was seeing on the digital display.
Pregnant. 5–6 weeks.
Pregnant. I was pregnant. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling butterflies swarming at the prospect of another baby, but all of the happiness washed away to sadness the moment I realized I was bringing another human intothissituation. Having Travis as a father—
Wait…
5–6 weeks…
Holy shit. It wasn’t Travis’s baby. It was Rafael’s.
I blinked, not even thinking as I rushed over to my bed, pounced on it, then flung the door of my bedside table open. I then reached on the underside where I’d taped the cell that no one realized I’d had. I’d stored it there the night Travis and I had arrived here, knowing that when the time was right, I’d be able to pull it out and use it.
And this was the moment. This was my out.
I hated the idea that a child was going to save me, but…it was. I finally had hope bubbling up inside me. But also love. So much love for a baby who hadn’t taken its first breath. I had part of Raf inside me. We’d created this together and…I started to tear up. I needed to tell him. I needed him to know what I knew. And I only had a limited amount of time.
Grabbing the charger, I darted back into the bathroom and plugged it in, waiting for the screen to power on as I picked the test back up, not believing what I was seeing.
A baby. I was going to have a baby and—
“What the fuck is that?”
My eyes widened, my body jerking so violently that the pregnancy test flung out of my hand, clattered to the floor, then slid toward Travis. His eyes were so dark I could see my reflection in them as he dropped the grocery bag with a big pink bottle inside it, then stepped forward, reaching down for the white-and-blue stick, then staring right at it.
“Pregnant,” he murmured, his lips lifting on one side, but that smirk soon dropped as he continued to look at it—as he read the words and numbers. I saw the exact moment it clicked. The way his hand formed a fist at his side; the way his eyes narrowed as he stared at me. But it was his growled “You fucked someone else?” that truly terrified me.
He dropped the test onto the floor, and I watched in horror as he lifted his boot-covered foot and crushed it. The plastic crunched together, the sound so loud that my heart pounded in my chest. I needed to get away from him. I needed to get the hell out of here, but I was trapped in this room with nowhere to go.
“It was that piece of shit who was on your driveway that day I came to that shitty fuckin’ house, wasn’t it?”
I shook my head, not knowing what to say or what to do. I could have denied it, but there was no use. He’d seen the time frame on the test, and those tests were so accurate. I couldn’t lie myself out of this, and if I was honest, I didn’t want to. Fate had done this. Destiny had played a part in all of this.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I whispered, trying to buy time as I backed myself into the corner. Some people may have thought that was a mistake, but at least with a corner you had two walls that could protect parts of your body.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ do, you dirty little whore!” Spittle flew out of his mouth at his words, his body jerking forward as he ran at me, tackled me farther into the wall, then grabbed the sides of my face. His fingers crushed into my skull, his thumbs pressing against my cheekbones as he pulled me forward, then lobbed me back, cracking my head against the hard surface.
“Travis!” I pleaded, grabbing for him again, however he just let go, not giving me traction, but also not letting up as his hand slapped me once, then again, and a third time.
“You think I don’t know who that was?” He laughed, his hand pressing around my throat, a move that he’d loved since he’d kidnapped me and held me hostage in this house. I had a permanent necklace of bruises framing my neck. All different colors and different stages of healing.
“He—”
“He what?” His pressed his nose against mine, staring me down. “He’s Rafael Pagani. Antonio’s son.” He shook his head, pushing his forehead into mine. “I did my fuckin’ research, Peyton. Why the fuck do you think I sent Ace to get you?”
I stuttered in a lungful of air, cringing at the smell of his breath on me. “You didn’t do it well enough the first time though, did you?” I smiled, losing all of my will to take this lying down. What was the point in going down without a fight? This time I had somethingright herethat needed saving. It wasn’t just about Kian and Reed anymore. I knew they were safe with my big brother. Ace may not have listened to me, but he would protect them at all costs, just like he had with me when I was a kid.
But this baby? All this baby had was me.
“I’m gonna kill you,” he announced, so softly, so matter of fact that it was even more scary than if he would have shouted it. “But first, I’ll get rid of that bastard in your stomach.”
My eyes widened, my arms coming around my front, but I wasn’t quick enough.
