Page 128

“I’ll always protect you,” I whispered.

Even if I didn’t fully understand what that meant yet.

Even if I didn’t know what I was protecting him from.

Chapter 29

Maggie

“Fuck.”

I was late.

Not by a day or two, either.

I stood in the bathroom staring at the calendar hanging beside the vanity, counting backward for the third time even though I knew the dates weren’t going to change just because I didn’t like the answer.

Almost two weeks had passed since I should’ve gotten my period.

I dropped my hand from the calendar and stared at myself in the mirror, trying to think of every possible explanation that didn’t involve the one possibility already taking over my thoughts.

There were plenty of reasons a period could be late. Stress could do it. Lack of sleep could do it. Changes in routine could probably do it too, and my entire fucking life had become one long change in routine since Richard moved me into this house.

I hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Some nights I stayed awake until three in the morning watching television because I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. Other days I slept until noon because there wasn’t anywhere I needed to be and no one was waiting for me to show up.

That had to be it.

I knew there was another possibility.

My eyes drifted toward the medicine cabinet above the sink.

The birth control pills Richard gave me used to sit on the second shelf beside the aspirin and a bottle of vitamins I never remembered to take. Every month, another pack appeared before the old one ran out. I never asked where he got them or who filled the prescription. Richard handled it, the same way he handled everything else in my life.

But I stopped taking them. At first, I’d only missed a couple of pills. Richard had disappeared for several days without bothering to tell me when he’d be back, and I’d been pissed at him. I’d stood in this same bathroom looking at that little packet and thinking about how ridiculous it was that even when Richard wasn’t here, I was still following instructions he’d given me.

So I skipped one.

Then I missed another.

Eventually, I stopped taking them altogether.

I hadn’t stopped because I wanted to get pregnant. At least, I didn’t think that was why I’d done it. At the time, I’d only wanted one fucking thing in my life that wasn’t being decided by Richard Kincaid.

Now I stared at the empty space inside the medicine cabinet and tried to remember exactly how long it had been since I’d taken the last one.

My stomach twisted when I realized I couldn’t remember.

Richard and I certainly hadn’t stopped fucking during that time. If anything, he’d been coming around more often, sometimes staying for hours and other times appearing just long enough to remind me that no matter how angry I was with him, I’d still let him back through the door.

Samantha’s face immediately appeared in my mind.

I closed the medicine cabinet harder than necessary and walked back into the bedroom.

I didn’t want to think about her. I’d done enough of that since the night I showed up uninvited and finally met Richard’s perfect little wife.

She hadn’t been anything like I’d expected, which somehow made the whole thing worse. I’d spent so much time imagining Samantha as some spoiled, shallow bitch Richard had chosen because she came from the right family and looked good standing beside him at expensive parties. It would’ve been easier if she’d been rude to me or looked at me like I didn’t belong there.

Instead, she’d smiled. She’d talked to me like I was someone worth knowing, completely unaware that I’d been sleeping with her husband. When she’d asked how Richard and I knew each other, apparently my panicked brain had decided the best answer was to turn myself into his fucking assistant.