Page 3 of Blissful Devotion

“A tattoo?” I ask, but now that I’ve said it out loud, it makes perfect sense.

“Was there more than one person, Addy?” Alex asks, and she nods her head before lying back down on her father's shoulder.

“The other bad man was yelling outside. They made Mommy cry.” Her voice is thick with emotion, and my throat feels thick at the picture she paints for us, my fingers itching to shoot someone.

Do something, anything really, other than sit here.

Before we can go any further, the doctor comes in, followed by Oliver and Desmond, and we spend the next few hours running tests not only on Addy but on me as well. I spend every second imagining every worst-case scenario for Kat because I failed to protect her… again.

I have three broken fingers and a fractured rib.

The rest is superficial at best, and thankfully, after Oliver demanded just about every test known to man, Addy’s cut was found to be the worst of her injuries. Though the doctor does have us watching her for any sign of a concussion.

We made it home late in the morning. Addison fell asleep in the car, which is a good sign; I worried the crash might make her afraid to drive.

At least for now, she seems okay, if not a little sad and very tired.

The house feels…depressing without Kat, and every snowflake that hangs from the trees or light that shines feels like it’s mocking me.

The paper in my pocket feels as though it’s burning a hole through my pants.

I’d been so shocked by the words when I first read them that I’d said them aloud, but in the heat of the moment, I’d only just choked them out. Neither Addison nor Nathan seemed to have heard me, and while I’m thankful I can keep Addison in the dark, I’m not so sure I feel the same about Nathan.

Telling all of them at the same time might be catastrophic, and I’m not sure it will help us ‌find her faster.

If anything, it might slow us down while they implode.

Before we even got back to the house, I called my guys to see what we could find on that traffic camera and what a star face tattoo might mean.

I should join them, but it doesn’t feel right leaving here, even if the memories of Kat here are suffocating.

Fuck, this is why I never let myself feel anything. The effect is detrimental; her presence is consuming.

“What’s that?” Nathan asks, pulling me from my mental spiral. I look down, and my brows pull down in a frown. I don’t recall pulling the paper from my pocket, but here it is, crumpled up in my grasp.

I’ve never been able to lie to Nathan, not since the day we met, and I won’t even begin to try now.

With a sigh, I hold it out for him to take, scrubbing a hand down my face and slumping back in my chair once he does.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

I watch Nathan smooth the papers, or try to. My grip on them might have been excessive.

His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it over before he goes still. His eyes flick up to meet mine, then drop back to the paper as if in disbelief.

“She wasn’t sick…” I hear the understanding and awe in his words, and it catches the attention of the others, who until just now were doing their own research.

“What?” Des asks, moving around the table to stand behind his father, no doubt reading the paper over his shoulder.

Like his father, he goes still too, and if this were any other situation, I might laugh at how similar they are.

“What?” The word is hardly more than a whisper, but it’s as if he shouted it; the pain clear on his face as he stumbles back a step.

“What is it?” Alex demands, looking back and forth between Desmond and Nathan, clearly not appreciating being out of the loop. I can’t say I blame him, given everything that’s happening right now, but for this one thing, it might be better not to know.

“Kat’s pregnant,” Nathan says, his voice loud and clear this time, but I see the pain that swirls in his eyes.

He’s been talking about putting a baby in her, marrying her, keeping her forever, and having a proper family.