Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox Page 0,2
abs. Just so I could feel his warm, hard body pressed against mine.
Somehow, I resisted. I went to bed with a bundle of pent-up energy inside of me, and I spent it all imagining the things he would have done to me. The way he would have made me feel if I’d let him.
But you can’t get pregnant from your own hand.
I curse again. If I am pregnant, it means I’m far along. Almost eight weeks, at least.
My periods haven’t been regular since I had Theo. I skip months all the time, so that isn’t a sure sign of pregnancy. Nausea and vomiting, though? Check.
I palm my chest and wince. Sensitive breasts? Check.
I bang my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut. What am I going to do?
I allow myself sixty seconds of wallowing before I push to my feet, brush my teeth, and grab my purse. The nanny gives me a silent wave from the couch where she is reading a romance novel from the large collection she keeps in her purse. Theo is sleeping, but if he wakes up, she’ll be here to take care of him. I walk through the small kitchen and to the front door. The guards downstairs follow me wordlessly out of the apartment, into the lobby, and then down the street. Screaming at them to leave me the fuck alone doesn’t work—I know that because I’ve already tried. Besides, I’m slightly grateful for their presence today. Focused as I am on the possible baby growing in my uterus, I’m not as aware of my surroundings as I could be. If Fedor is ever going to attack me, today would be a good day to do it.
The shop on the corner has everything, including a cat who lies on top of the warm coffee maker and hisses when customers get too close. I’m in and out of the store within a minute, six pregnancy tests in hand.
If the guards know what is hidden away in my plastic bag, they don’t say anything.
When I get back into the apartment, the guards take up their posts once again near the front door, and I run up the stairs and back into the bathroom.
Each of the tests is different, so they all have different instructions, but I’m not patient enough to read right now. As long as my pee gets on the stick, I’m doing enough things right to get the answers I’m looking for. So, I tear a pink package open with my teeth, yank my pants down, and pee on the stick for five seconds, though it feels like an eternity.
As I pace the bathroom and wait, I flash back to being eighteen years old in a convenience store bathroom, throwing up in the disgusting toilet while I waited for the pregnancy test to tell me what I already knew.
This time is different, however. Not only am I in an immaculate, spacious bathroom that is nicer than any house I’ve ever lived in, but I wanted this sex. Regardless of how I feel about Viktor in this very second, the last time I had sex with him was incredible. It was hot and full of passion. Most importantly, I remember every pulsing, aching second of it.
This baby is wanted.
Fear clenches my heart, making it difficult to breathe, but the truth remains. If I really am pregnant, I want this baby.
When I found out I was pregnant with Theo, I didn’t want him. I knew I couldn’t get rid of him, but I wasn’t happy. The warm glow of love didn’t wash over me when I realized I had life growing in my belly. I felt used and hollowed out and raw. I’d been raped, and my life was veering off course and there was nothing I could do.
Of course, Theo is my everything now. He is my reason for living and breathing and fighting, but I didn’t know that at the time.
Now, knowing how much I love Theo, I know how much I would love this baby, too. That is what scares me. Caring for another person that much when life is so insane and dangerous. I spend half of my time studying for my interior design class, the other half caring for Theo, and during all of that, I’m worried sick for Theo’s safety. There isn’t a second of my day where I get a reprieve from worrying about him. From wondering when Fedor will strike next.