Which was all that mattered to me.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
ISLA
The next week blurred together,passing slowly yet fast at the same time. However, each day bled into the next, and morning came, whether I slept or not. Somewhere in between the daze, I existed in this strange, suspended space where everything felt too real and not real enough.
I tried to see Julius twice. The first time, I told myself it was just to check on him and make sure he was okay.
The second time, I knew better. I needed to see him and craved to hear his voice and see his face. Yearning to have him look at me the way he always did, like everything else in the world could fall apart, and it still wouldn’t touch us.
I just needed to hear him say that everything was going to be okay, but the universe had other plans for us.
“You’re not on the list,” the guards at the jail greeted in a tone that made me feel as if Julius didn’t want to see me.
The first time, I argued. The second time, I didn’t. I just stood there, staring at the glass, half expecting Julius to appear out of thin air. The thought stayed with me longer than anything else.Along with the fact that he was locked up, being held behind bars in a cell all by himself while I was free, living under the same roof with the guy who put him there.
What does that make me? What does that make us?
Since I wasn’t immediate family, they wouldn’t tell me anything else. The only thing they told Kraven was that Julius was being held with no bail for his drug charges with intent to sell. If he wanted more information, he’d have to go through his lawyer.
I called the lawyer he used for Kraven, Mark, assuming he’d try to use him for this, but his secretary said he was out of town on business until the end of the month and he’d get back to me when he could.
By the time I got back to the house the second time around, I was running out of energy fighting something I couldn’t change.
Kraven was there when I walked in. He stayed on top of making sure I ate, cooking for me more often than not. He even left prenatals on Julius’s bed the following morning after I tried to leave.
He was right, though. It was no longer just about me. I had a baby to think about, but I was still unsure about keeping it…
Shaking away the thought, I announced, “I went again.” I tossed my keys on the counter without looking at him.
After a beat of silence, he replied, “I figured.”
Meeting his gaze, I implied, “You knew they wouldn’t let me in again?”
“Yes.”
I shrugged with my hands up in the air. “And you didn’t think to tell me that before I rode the subway all the way there?”
He stood from the couch, eyeing me up and down in a matter-of-fact kind of way. “You wouldn’t have listened to me if I did.”
I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. He wasn’t wrong, and that pissed me off more than anything.
I stared at him, frustration bubbling up. “Whatever,” I muttered, walking away.
I didn’t have the energy for this either. This pregnancy had begun to take its toll on me. I stayed in Julius’s bedroom more than anywhere else. I kept the door closed, maintaining distance between Kraven and me whenever I could. Being near him did something to me that I wasn’t ready to deal with.
Not when everything was already so complicated.
Out of nowhere, a strange, rolling discomfort eased into the pit of my stomach, and then it got worse. I covered my mouth with my hand, and by the time I made it to the bathroom, I barely had time to drop to my knees before it hit.
My stomach twisted violently, nausea crashing over me so fast it stole the air from my lungs. I hurled, again, and again, and again. My body shook as my fingers gripped the edge of the toilet bowl. Tears burned in my eyes, and my throat felt raw. Through all of that, I didn’t hear him come in.
“Kitty.” His voice was lower than usual.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t because another wave of nausea hit with a vengeance, and his hands were holding my hair back in seconds. This was the first time he’d touched me all week. I hadn’t asked for his help. I didn’t expect it, yet there he was. He didn’t say anything, no reassuring words, no soothing gestures. All he did was hold my hair back, staying there with me, and that meant more than anything.
