“The pregnancy is not as far along as mine, but the doctor said that he doesn’t believe there’s a chance that the father is outside of our pack,” I say.
“How can he tell?” Cassidy wails. It’s more of a mewl and softer than a wail to be honest. Tears burn in my eyes as I swallow hard, hating that this can’t be a happy moment.
I can’t fucking wait to kill Clara. That stupid cunt.
“They know,” Winter insists.
Cassidy gasps in a breath as she shakes her head, trying to wrap her brain around this. Her tears trigger Winter’s and mine, and we hold her carefully between us as we cry.
Abbott walks inside the room and freezes as he takes us in.
“You,” Cassidy says, sniffing. “Close the door. Are you the asshole who got me pregnant?”
“I don’t know,” Abbott says, closing the door behind him as he clutches the plastic bag from the hospital gift shop. “It could technically be me or Bellamy.”
“I was pretty wrapped up in your body for a few days,” I admit, my nose running. God, we’re a mess. “It would be pretty cool if the baby was mine.”
“This is insane!” Cassidy yells.
“Mmm, baby. Yell some more,” Abbott croons, locking the door.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, laughing through her tears. “I may pop a damn stitch if I yell any more.”
“That would probably be bad,” I agree, sighing as I lay my head on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” she sighs. “Since you closed the door, maybe you can give me an update on the more fuzzy side of things, Abbott.”
“Oh like people who are dead, or who’s waiting for you three to be better so you can kill them?” Abbott asks innocently, coming closer to hand the bag to Winter.
My stepsister in turn hands out mints, and starts to rub lotion into Cassidy’s hand.
“Hmm. Do I get special treatment because I’m growing a little human?” she asks, sighing as I carefully begin to lotion her other hand.
“You should get ready to not be allowed to pick up anything heavier than an orange,” Abbott teases her, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Ew. I don’t want that. I take it back!” she says, making me chuckle.
“Okay, here’s the cliff notes, beautiful,” Abbott says.
He explains what happened at the bunker, and how Jake swallowed a bomb essentially, but Cassidy’s brow furrows when Abbott tells her about Avery.
“Fuck. Did anyone check to see if there’s drainage to the sewers or something?” she asks.
“There are. Shiloh looked,” he confirms.
“The bitch is totally alive,” Cass groans. “What about Madam Clara?”
“She’s currently at Pack Mayor’s warehouse,” Abbott says. “Figured it would be fun for her to wait there until we’re ready to kill her. She’s currently hanging next to Winchell Rock, the owner of The Hug Project. Old Winchell decided to help Clara, but only so that she could give him the money she received for selling you.”
“Why would she do that?” Winter asks.
Cassidy rubs the rest of the lotion into her skin, sighing as she pays special attention to her elbows. Winter was right in asking for the care items she did.
Cass is used to being able to have the finer things in life, and she looks a little more herself as she rubs lip balm on her lips. This is a form of control, and Winter understands this.
“If he’s the owner of The Hug Project, I bet he’s holding Clara responsible for the fire,” Cassidy mutters. “Am I right?”
“You are,” Abbott says. “He wanted to recoup his losses, and gave Clara the use of his bunker, which is now destroyed as well.”
