“You’re pregnant with my fucking kid. I can’t off you now.” He stands maniacally. Shit. This Baz is scary. Big, huge body menacing. Mentally unhinged. It’s clear, I really had no idea who I was dealing with in Colorado. None. And it burns me up. Usually, I’m the one deceiving people. Disguising myself as someone else, but Baz takes the blue ribbon. I was completely fooled by him, and now, not only am I in danger, but so is our child.
“So, what the fuck are you going to do with me? Just keep me chained to the bed as a human incubator?”
“Yeah.” He stalks to the door. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna fucking do.”
My heart lurches, fear seizing my throat. A tidal wave of sickness crashes over me, and I fight like hell not to throw up. He isn’t going to take my little one from me. No one is. Baz has no idea who he’s dealing with.
Has no clue who he really got into bed with.
He may hold the upper hand now, but six months gives me plenty of time to devise an escape plan.
And park a bullet in Baz’s brain. Like I was originally supposed to do.
I don’t know how long I yanked at the cuffs trying to squeeze my wrist free. I stopped when I drew blood. It was impossible. He obviously isn’t stupid. He secured them tight enough so I couldn’t slip my little hands through. Ugh! I kick my legs, my shirt riding up, exposing my stomach. I look down at the bare skin, still flat and tight. No signs of my pregnancy yet, except for the morning sickness which happens all throughout the day. Torture. I’m possessed by a little demon who apparently takes right after it’s father.
I don’t know how long I lie here, but I can’t ignore my turning insides, my light head, and the urge to pee. I try to close my eyes and try to relax, wishing I could assure myself that Baz isn’t going to hurt me, but past experiences and all. He seems so unhinged. So abrasive. So defensive. Such a complete contrast to the man my affections grew leaps and bounds for.
And those eyes. Those fucking alien eyes. It’s like he’s not even the same person. Like he’s demonized, because those are not Baz’s eyes. There is no warmth, no light, only . . .crazy.You can’t hide or mask crazy. You just can’t, and Baz definitely wasn’t crazy when we were together. When we made this child.
Sometimes life becomes a little too much for me to handle. Sometimes I obsess. Or can’t let things go.
The door to the dark bedroom creaks open again, and I steel myself, preparing for batty Baz.
The aroma of food instantly turns my stomach. Dear God, no food. Please, no food.
Baz places a tray on the bed, and I catch sight of some soup, bread, and a glass of water. I drop my head back. Just looking at it makes me want to gag.
Baz pulls on a string next to the bed, drawing up the shades. Bright light fills the room, and I squint as my eyes adjust. It’s the first time I get a good look at my surroundings. The room is sparsely decorated, just the light wooden bed with iron headboard, matching dresser, and two creepy, hand-painted bear pictures on the wall. They’re staring straight at me, their beady little eyes boring into me in my tethered state. Wonderful. Behind the bed is a huge window, and I peek over my shoulder hoping I can get an idea of where we are. When I look through the glass, all I see are trees and a blanket of white. Snow. A lot of snow. As far as the eye can see. Shit.
I whip my head to Baz. “Where the fuck are we? Back in Colorado?”
“Not quite, but the boonies just the same.”
I narrow my eyes. “Where the fuck are we?”
“Someplace you should think twice about trying to escape from. There’s nothing but forest for miles and miles, and I burned all your clothes. Tossed your shit, too. You’ve got nothing.”
I expel a low growl picturing all the ways I want to torture and kill him as he sits next to me.
“It’s a good thing I’m handcuffed to this bed.”
“Why is that?” He picks up the steaming soup bowl.
“Because if I wasn’t, I’d kill you. Slowly. And painfully.”
Baz smirks arrogantly. “No, you wouldn’t. You couldn’t before, and you can’t now.”
“Want to unlock me and put your money where your mouth is?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I enjoy you in this position.” His eyes flash as his gaze lands right between my thighs. “Plus, you’re pregnant. Which means no rigorous activity.”
“So, rough sex is out?” I shoot my mouth off.
Baz rumbles. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Stevie. You were the best fucking lay I’ve ever had. I have no problems crawling back into that wet, tight pussy.”
“Keep dreaming. I wouldn’t let you back in with a crowbar.”
“Then why the fuck are we having this conversation?” He scoops up some soup with the spoon and attempts to feed me.
