14. Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Katie
T he front door clicks shut behind us as I lean on Brad’s arm, my legs wobbly. The familiar scents of home, coffee and Carter’s cologne, wash over me.
“What the hell were you two thinking?” Henry’s voice booms from the living room.
I flinch as Brad guides me toward the couch. Carter paces by the fireplace, jaw clenched. The anger radiating off both of them makes my skin prickle with discomfort.
“Shut it, Dad,” Brad says firmly. His hand on the small of my back feels possessive, protective.
I sink onto the plush cushions, wincing as my scraped knees bend. Brad kneels before me with a warm, damp washcloth. As he gently cleans the cuts, I study his face—the furrow of concentration between his brows, the tightness around his mouth. Does he regret what we did in the woods?
“This is insanity,” Carter mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Absolute madness.”
Brad’s touch is tender as he dabs at a particularly nasty scrape. “You’ll be alright, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He kisses just above it. “We’ll get you Band-Aids and ice.”
I want to lose myself in his care, but guilt churns in my stomach. What have we done? What mess have we created?
Henry’s footsteps thud across the hardwood as he paces. “Do you have any idea the position you’ve put us all in?” he demands.
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come. What could I possibly say to make this right? My head is twisting, every thought curling in on the next one. Are they talking about Dan (suddenly old news) or the baby? Did I leave my test out? Did they find it before I had the chance to tell them?
Brad’s hand cups my cheek, drawing my gaze to his. “Don’t worry about them,” he says softly. “I’ve got you.”
For a moment, the world narrows to just us two. But Carter’s agitated muttering and Henry’s angry pacing intrude, reminding me of the tangled web we’re caught in.
Carter’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and controlled. “Brad, we need to deal with Dan. Now.”
I flinch at the name, memories of our encounter in the woods flooding back after the calming, warm ride back in the truck. The peace that filled us both after Brad got everything out of his system. All the panic I felt on the ride out there starts to tease my nerves again. Brad’s jaw clenches, but his eyes never leave mine.
We took our time coming back. I know that Brad texted something, then he took me to a drive-through. We talked the whole way home, finally got out everything about what I’d been feeling and how he’d been thinking. I don’t know how long it’s been since we left the house or left Dan.
“It’s handled,” Brad says dismissively, his fingers tracing soothing circles on my arm.
Carter steps closer, his polished shoes gleaming in the soft lamplight. “Handled? You left a man tied to a tree, Brad. That’s not ‘handled’. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
I can feel the weight of Carter’s piercing gaze, but Brad seems unfazed. He continues tending to my scrapes with careful attention, as if Carter’s words are merely background noise.
“Brad.” Carter’s voice drops lower, a hint of menace creeping in. “This isn’t a game. We need to clean up your mess and get your temper under control before it becomes irreparable.”
“Let me worry about Dan,” Brad finally says, his tone eerily calm. “Katie needs me right now.”
I search Brad’s face, trying to understand how he can be so nonchalant about what we’ve done. And I’m definitely complicit now. Is that why he doesn’t care? Or is it the other news? There’s a glint in his eye that both thrills and terrifies me. What is he planning? And why does a part of me trust him implicitly despite everything?
As Brad’s fingers ghost over a bruise on my collarbone, I shiver. His eyes darken with desire, and for a moment, I forget about Dan, about Carter’s anger, about everything beyond this electric connection between us.
“Brad,” Carter warns, but his voice sounds distant, unimportant.
I’m falling into Brad’s gaze, drowning in the intensity of his focus.
Henry’s voice shatters our moment. “Can you stop doting on Katie for two seconds and answer!” he snaps.
Brad’s hands freeze on my skin, but his eyes never leave mine. There’s a defiance in his gaze that makes my heart race.
“Henry,” I start to say, but the words die in my throat. What could I possibly say to make this okay?
Brad’s jaw tightens. “She needs care,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “She’s more important than the ‘mess’, if that’s what you want to call it.”
Henry’s face flushes deep red as he takes a step forward, fists clenched at his sides. “Because of injuries you caused! You’ve done enough,” he growls.
Carter moves then, placing a firm hand on Henry’s shoulder, stopping his aggressive approach. “Easy,” he murmurs, but his eyes are fixed on Brad’s hands, which have drifted to rest on my stomach. “Let’s all take a breath.”
Brad’s fingers splay protectively across my abdomen, and something in Carter’s gaze shifts.
My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure they can all hear it. Brad’s touch burns through my shirt, a secret branded on my skin. He’s already protective of me, but his keeping this new… addition in mind simply because of Henry’s temper is confusing, touching, overwhelming.
“Katie.” Carter’s voice is soft. “Is there something you need to tell us?”
Brad’s hand tightens perceptibly on my stomach, and I fight the urge to lean into his touch. Instead, I force myself to meet Carter’s concerned gaze.
“I… I’m pregnant,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
At first, I want to cross my fingers to hope that no one heard me, that my voice is just carried away as the heat kicks on. Carter’s eyes don’t move from my face. There’s no change there even though his jaw tightens.
Henry inhales sharply. “What the hell does that mean?”
Brad shifts closer. “What else could it mean?” he snaps. “Pretty hard to misunderstand that.”
“Don’t you talk back to me. Speak up, Katie. What do you—” Henry starts and edges closer.
A flicker of violence sparks in Brad’s gaze and he speaks in a low growl through his teeth. “Back off, Henry.”
But Carter’s eyes haven’t left mine. He takes a step forward, his expression a mix of worry and something else I can’t quite place. Everything plays out in his eyes. I can see his thoughts churning, piecing things together.
He processes the news in record time. “How far along are you? How long have you known?”
My mind races, calculating days and weeks, remembering missed pills and reckless moments. “A few weeks along, at least, if not… more,” I admit, shame coloring my cheeks. “I didn’t want to believe it with the first test two weeks or so ago, but I’ve been feeling off, figured it was stress, but I took another one and… and I can’t argue with two positive tests.”
The room falls silent and I wrap my arms around myself. Brad’s already made it clear a baby changes nothing between him and me, but there’s more than him and me in this relationship.
And suddenly, this relationship, this mess, everything feels wrong. Even with Brad’s hand on my belly, our half conversation about my being pregnant… it’s all terribly wrong.
My throat closes up, bile rises in my stomach, and I push Brad’s touch away. Their voices ring in my ears as I hurry from the couch and run up the stairs. Tears cloud my sight and a sob breaks free once I’m in my room. My legs give out and I fall to my knees.
What have I done? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not now.