The discomfort in my stomach worsens suddenly...and the urge to puke overwhelms me. My hand flies to my mouth as I stumble to the bathroom.
Kneeling against the toilet, I grip the lid hard…retching until my stomach feels empty. My body shivers violently, and for a long moment, I just stay there trembling.
Shaky feet carry me to the sink, and my eyes lift to the mirror. I look too pale…with shadows under my eyes that no amount of rest has erased. Should I have told the doctor? Should I go back and ask? My chest tightens…panic crawling up my throat…What if something is wrong? What if it’s… something else?
And then it hits me…like a punch to the gut. I haven’t had my period in almost a month. I’ve been too caught up with the events of the past few days and I didn’t notice. Like a cagedanimal, I pace the length of the bathroom, my eyes snagging on my reflection…and jerking away until I can’t bear the sight of myself anymore.
Thinking back to all the times Dominic and I have had sex, I realize we haven’t exactly been careful. In fact, we haven’t been careful at all…and the only time he ever used protection was at the nightclub.
What if I’m…? The word stalls in my throat.
Absolutely not! I’m not ready. I’ve never been ready. My own childhood taught me nothing about love except how badly it hurts when it’s withheld. That kind of damage doesn’t vanish because you accidentally fall pregnant.
And clearly, Dominic isn’t built for fatherhood either.
A baby changes everything. Dominic is…fuck…I don’t even know where I stand with him, or if I stand anywhere at all.
Yet, a nagging voice in my head whispers,What if…? The rational part of my brain points out the obvious… the nausea, headache, dizziness, and, to top it all off, my missed period, while the irrational part hopes my period is just late, or that I bled too much from the gun wound and didn’t have any more blood to lose. As if that were even a thing.
What the fuck am I going to do?
I sure as hell can’t tell Dominic anything. If I tell him, I could ruin what we barely even have right now…Or not, a voice in my head whispers.
But I’m not ready to take that risk…So instead, I rinse my face with cold water and let the shock and panic settle into a dull ache in my stomach, brushing the suspicion aside. I refuse to let myself dwell on it, especially with no proof…and in the end, I might just be worrying for nothing.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll think about it. Today, I just need to survive. Today, I’ll pretend I’m fine. I’ll act like nothing has changed.
Even though deep down, I feel like it already has.
Chapter twenty
Dominic
The four digits Edwardo gave were a lead, and we made that lead work for us. First, we limited the field to the city prefixes and the carrier blocks our contact could pull, then we ran that smaller pool against tower activity in the two-block sector where it was assumed Freddy answered the calls. That winnowed thousands down to a few dozen live numbers. We fed those into an auto-dialer overnight to clear the noise, and by dawn, Matteo had a scrap of paper with six undialed lines.
The phone’s on speaker. Edwardo’s still strapped to the table, wrists loose enough to gesture. Each time someone picks up, Matteo holds the phone out to him. If it’s the wrong voice, he confirms with a shake of his head, then Matteo kills the line and proceeds to dial the next number.
It’s a wild bet. There’s a high chance it’ll yield nothing, but there’s also no harm in trying, considering I’m out of options already.
My chest feels tighter with every miss. I need fucking answers and I need them now. Whoever is after me is plotting something else and several steps ahead...while I’m still stuck in this fucking maze.
“Four more,” Matteo mutters, voice dry and stripped of sleep. He looks at me once, then dials.
The rings drag for a long time, and I almost lose hope that someone’s going to pick up until it connects.
“Hello?” The voice is deep and flat...with no curiosity in it.
Edwardo’s breath snags in his throat, and then he jerks forward, eyes widening with recognition. He nods hard and fast.
Matteo eases the phone closer. Edwardo wets his lips, clearing his throat before he forces out the words. “It’s Freddy.”
“Freddy? I thought you died…” The words are low, dragged through disbelief.
I watch Edwardo’s face as he slips into his brother’s skin, selling the lie. “Eddie took the hit. I’ve been laying low…pretending to be him. We should meet up. With my cash. I need to leave the city.”
There’s heavy breathing on the line, like the bastard’s right here in the room with us. My fingers itch against the grip of my gun, desperate with the need to shove the barrel down his throat and ask if Isabella’s blood was worth it. Finally, the voice speaks up again. “Sure. Meet me at The Sparrow…Midnight.”
The line goes dead. Edwardo sags back against the table, sweat shining on his temple, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding his breath for years.
