Page 118 of Addicted

I was about to have a family. A real family. And I was going to make sure Indie had the most stress-free, relaxed pregnancy imaginable. She was going to want for nothing. She was going to be protected, taken care of, loved. Whatever she needed, she’d have it.

Because she was mine, and so was our baby.

And I’d burn the whole world down before I let anything happen to either of them.

Chapter 22

Indie

I woke up pissed. Like, irrationally, unreasonably pissed. The kind of pissed that made me want to throw something across the room just to hear it shatter.

And it was all because of Stone.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and stared at the text he’d sent me last night.

Stone:Too tired to drive back. Staying at the crash pad tonight. I’ll be there in the morning for the appointment.

That was it.

No “I love you.” No “I miss you.” Just a cold-ass text letting me know he wasn’t coming home.

The night before our first OB appointment. The night before we were supposed to hear our baby’s heartbeat.

And he couldn’t be bothered to make the drive back to the estate?

I knew I was being irrational. Knew he was probably exhausted from whatever business he’d been handling in LA. Knew he’d texted me so I wouldn’t worry.

But I didn’t give a fuck. I was still pissed.

I threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

My appointment was at ten. It was eight-thirty now.

Stone better not be late.

I took a quick shower, then threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized top that hung off one shoulder. I slipped on my white Air Force Ones and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail.

I added my diamond studs and my Cartier bracelet, then grabbed my phone and headed downstairs.

Brady was in the kitchen, prepping breakfast.

“Good morning, Indie,” he said with a warm smile. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some toast,” I said, my tone clipped.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Smart man.

I sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through my phone while I waited.

A few minutes later, Brady set a plate of buttered toast in front of me along with a glass of orange juice.

“Thank you,” I muttered.

I picked at the toast, my stomach still a little queasy from the morning sickness that had been kicking my ass for the past week.

I heard the front door open, and my whole body tensed.

Stone.