“What did you father do?” It’s the first question out of my mouth and I immediately know it’s the wrong question to ask.
Christian snaps away from me quickly, pushing my head to the side, “He’s going to pay!” He explodes, “And you’re going to help me.”
“Get fucked,” I snap, pushing to stand but he’s right there again, shoving me back down.
Think, Willow, think!
“You’re pregnant,” Christian strolls away from me, that explosion of fury seemingly in the distant past, “How far along are you?”
I blink, “Twenty-one weeks.”
“You shouldn’t bring a baby into this world when you’re mixed up in this kind of business, Willow.”
My nostrils flare.
“I am doing you a kindness,” He continues, “I’m removing the threat from yours and your baby’s life.”
“Sebastian isn’t the threat,” I bite.
“He is, Willow. He is.”
“You don’t have to do this, Christian,” I turn to begging, “Please don’t do this.”
“It’s already done, Willow. He’s on his way.”
“No,” I beg, “Please.”
Christian raises the gun and inspects it, “I will make it quick for you, so you don’t have to watch him suffer, that is a kindness.”
Panic and anger work through me. I did not make it this far to lose him, I did not go through all of this with him only for our child to grow up without him. This is not fucking happening.
My heart starts to beat harder and faster, making me sweat and the fog moves away rapidly with my building adrenaline. I couldn’t let Sebastian come in here, not that I think he couldn’t fight but because I don’t think Christian will give him a chance.
His back is to me now as he watches out the window, the aged curtain pulled just a little to the side so he can peer out. I have no doubt Bast is coming for me, but I won’t let Christian take the one thing I need.
And that’s the truth of it.
IneedSebastian. I need his strength. I need his love.
Slowly, I rise from the chair, careful about my movements so I don’t make a sound and edge toward the dresser where the shards of glass lay. I worry about creaky floorboards, but luck appears to be on my side, and I get to the set of drawers without him noticing I’ve moved.
My fingers curl around the biggest shard, the edges sosharp they cut into my fingers immediately, but the pain doesn’t register.
I move forward, ready to attack but my foot collides with the bed leg and a thump sounds through the room.
Christian spins around, finding me out of the chair.
“What are you–”
I lunge, glass raised but he’s quick and I only manage to catch his arm rather than his throat which is what I was aiming for. He hisses out a breath but recovers too quickly, throwing me off balance and onto the bed, following me onto it. He straddles my thighs and grips my wrists, forcing my arms above my head.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Christian grits out as I try to release my arms from his hold. The glass is cutting into my hand, I can feel my blood pouring from my palm and dripping onto the dusty sheets, making the grip tenuous. I need to get him off. Now!
He’s focused on my hands, so I stop moving them, watching as he releases a breath, thinking I’ve given up the fight and just when he opens his mouth to speak again, I jerk my hips up. He grunts and loses his balance, and I use it to my advantage, getting out from beneath him and lash out with my arm.
It strikes where I want it to, right into the side of his throat.
His wide eyes meet mine as his hand darts to his neck, the blood pouring through his fingers and thenhe begins to slide down the wall, face paling with every slow second that ticks by.
