The remnants of my child—where is he or she? How big was it? How far along was I? Was it a little bean or—I don’t know. I never looked that shit up.
I just remember the scream that ripped through my lips because something else was taken from me.
I didn’t feel anything but cold and unworthy.
Undeserving.
Guilty.
“Bay, you’re white as a sheet,” Pretty Boy’s voice says through my blurred vision. “Let’s get you into bed.”
I don’t want to. I want air.
But the bile in my gut says otherwise as I spin on my heels and rush blindly to the bathroom.
FORTY-THREE
torin
She hasn’t spokena word since she began stirring awake in her bed.
Not to get out of it.
Not to leave her alone.
Not to go fuck myself to hell and back.
I’m already there.
Bay’s been awake for well over an hour. She’s let me run my fingers softly through her hair to calm her nerves. She’s even taken a few sips of water for me after she passed out on the bathroom floor and practically scared me to fucking death.
There’s nothing like standing outside the door and hearing a sickening thud. I immediately rushed in, called the doctor, and—thanks to Hot Rod and fucking Juice—was delayed.
They senttheirdoctor in and told me to get the fuck out.
Amateurs.
My run-ins with those two fuckers should be enough for them to know it was never going to happen. Thankfully, Ozzy arrived and stepped in, otherwise, I may have been thrown out of South Shore on my ass and not permitted back in until he arrived.
But I would’ve had to use my wild card and title as King of South Shore.
Still doesn’t ring right.
Meanwhile, the doc said Bay was dehydrated as hell, and I learned how important it was for her to be eating and drinking as much as possible, especially when she’s going through this.
The loss of the baby has sent her down another spiral, and I take most of the responsibility for it.
Maybe if she was healthy—I’m not entirely sure if that would’ve mattered—the baby would have survived. It didn’t help with the stress levels Bay was under—the death of Wallace, her father, and everything I put her through— she wasn’t in the best shape.
That was all going to change. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her now. No matter what else she did or tried, Judah was my breaking point.
My denial.
To think she could put a bullet in him was ludicrous after Ozzy showed me the real video. Then she went and did it to Nessa, and I’m starting to believe I don’t know Bay at all.
Maybe.
I’ve put bullets into people. She put one in me.
