Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“I still hate you,” I tell him when I realize how safe I feel in his arms. I’m frustrated with myself a little too because that statement couldn’t be further from the truth. Nowhere near this man is safe. Nowhere near this man is going to be secure or protected.
He says nothing just places me gently in his car and then places my bags in the back. I watch as he steps in front of the car, tucking his phone in his pocket before he slides in.
“Which hospital?”
I reply, and my body adjusts ever so slightly to not only keep distance between us but so I can watch him as well.
Make no mistake, just because I’m in the car with this man does not mean I trust him.
I trust him as much as I would a rattlesnake that’s coiled and ready to strike.
“You’re pregnant,” Keir states the obvious with one strong hand gripping the wheel as he drives while the other works the gearshift.
“Ding, ding, ding… the prize goes to the lucky guesser,” I reply sarcastically.
“Is it mine?”
His words shock me.
Because I’m not sure how to answer his question.
I had hoped to never have to answer that question. In truth, I had hoped never to see him again. Quite frankly it would be easier that way.
Just as I open my mouth to reply, another contraction hits me hard enough that both my hands go to my back as I lean forward, trying to contain the pain. It does nothing.
A rough hand touches the middle of my back and starts rubbing in slow, small circles, and it helps. He helps. As soon as it passes and I’m not clenching every part of me, I turn my head to the side, still bent over, and simply gape at him.
Remembering he asked me a question, I finally answer with, “Does it matter?” Let’s face it, I remember what he said to me all those months ago. If it’s a girl, it doesn’t matter. It could very much be a girl for all he knows.
“It matters,” he replies as he pulls to a stop out the front of the hospital, his hands tight on the steering wheel, his lips in a thin line.
An orderly comes out with a wheelchair and opens my door. “Park the car and then come in. She will be taken to the delivery ward,” the man states, but the boredom in his voice is clearly evident like he has said it a thousand times today already.
I feel Keir’s eyes on me, but I choose not to look his way.
It doesn’t take him long. Did I really think it would? Keir isn’t a man who’s late or isn’t where he needs or wants to be. So why is he here? Perhaps in hopes that I give him a boy? I’m not his chosen to marry and produce an heir. So if I do have a boy, does that mean Keir still wouldn’t want him?
This is way too much to be thinking about right now. During labor.
Everything would be much better if he simply wasn’t here.
Another contraction hits, and Keir is by my side. He goes to touch me, but I brush his hand away as I suck deeply on the gas to try to ease the pain.
It doesn’t work.
“Sailor, I’m going to check how dilated you are. Let’s see when we’re having this baby,” the nurse says cheerfully. My feet are propped up in stirrups, and her hands go between my legs. “Wow! Okay… that was fast.” She calls the doctor over to check. “You’re ready to push.”
“Do you have to be here?” I ask Keir.
Both the doctor and the nurse pause to stare at him.
“Yes.” He doesn’t give me an option to argue and before I can even think of a comeback, I’m pushing.
And he’s right there.
Being the hero.
No. He is not a hero.
Far from it.
Keir is the devil.
One I fucked.
And now look at me.
Chapter Two
Sailor
The asshole is pacing.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Keir lifts his eyes and stares at me, then starts pacing again. Non-stop. It’s starting to make me crazy, repressed anger and anxiety swelling in my chest more and more with each step he takes.
“Get out,” I say to him, careful not to raise my voice too much.
The doctor and nurses have left, and now it’s just the three of us.
But he hasn’t stopped pacing since the birth.
“That’s not going to happen.” He huffs, but he also doesn’t glance my way. Adding to my annoyance, his phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Like literally hasn’t stopped.
It’s driving me up the wall.
He is driving me up the wall.
I am tired and need some rest.
“Having a baby is meant to be exciting, but you are making it the total exact opposite. Stop pacing and turn off your goddamn phone or fucking leave.”
Keir stops, looks to me and the baby, then shakes his head. “You kept this from me.” His words slice straight through me, particularly the way they left his mouth full of venom.