My silence encouraged another text from him.
The phone came alive in my hands.
Kite007:Your time is almost up, Nila Weaver. Enjoy it. I’m coming for you.
* * * * *
I’m coming for you.
I couldn’t think of anything else.
I’m coming for you.
But when?
Work the next day did nothing to ease my state of mind.
I suffered three vertigo incidents before lunch, and when I finally had time to eat, I threw it all up again.
Please. Please...don’t let my sickness be what I think it is.
I pressed my forehead against the cool porcelain of my private toilet in my office as more nausea tore through my system.
I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
Dreadful horror crept over me.
I had unprotected sex.
Jethro came in me.
Twice.
I moaned as the room spun again.
I can’t be pregnant. I can’t!
Doctors had always told me I ran too much. My periods had stopped coming a year ago, and they said I’d tricked my body into believing it was in starvation mode; therefore, it wasn’t strong enough to have children.
I’d been careless.
I’d been fucking stupid.
Why did I think I could ignore it?
Stumbling to my feet, I grabbed my purse and charged out of the warehouse with its steampunk vibe and countless cubicles all with private sewing machines. My bodyguards that Tex had commissioned were somewhere close by, but I didn’t want them following me.
Not for this.
I didn’t take a breath until I’d run down the stairs and dashed down the road to a local pharmacy. I didn’t think people might witness me buying a pregnancy test, and I definitely didn’t think I would bump into my twin as I came out with a little paper bag clutched in my hands. All I focused on was getting answers. Answers I should’ve learned weeks ago.
I can’t be pregnant!
I slammed into his hard bulk.
V’s dark eyes widened, his arms automatically coming out to catch me. “Threads! Been looking for you. I have a new idea for the backlog and—” His gaze dropped to my fingers, concern etching his brow. “Eh, you okay?”
My cheeks heated.
