26. Stop Calling Me That #2
Wes’s knuckles looked fine when he returned, and I couldn’t find a scratch on him otherwise, but I know he’s behind it.
He made good on his promise. For the first time in my life, I can go wherever I want and do whatever I want without fear.
I can go to the beach and play in the ocean without worrying if my dad or his spy will find me.
I can walk through a grocery store or a mall.
Hang out in a park and people-watch for hours.
Get a job with my legal name and stop running.
Save money and travel to abandoned places like I’ve dreamed. And I owe it all to Wes.
I should have thrown my arms around him in gratitude.
I’m grateful to him, I am, but I can’t get over this feeling of being utterly alone and without direction.
Dr. Carrington says it’s because until now I’ve been in survival mode, reacting to keep myself safe but not living.
I’ve never chosen a path. I’ve only ever dreamed of things, and now that I can have them, I’m scared.
And how much can I have with a baby? Just when I get my life back, I have to give it over to another.
Dr. Carrington says I can have both, and in time, I’ll feel different.
The pregnancy is still new and a shock. She says when I hold the baby for the first time, I’ll want a path I can’t understand right now. I hope she’s right.
“Fable?” Wes’s deep voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Dim lighting casts a soft glow over the light-blue walls and classically decorated room. The news plays on the flat screen, the volume low. Wes sits in the chair beside my bed, like he always does.
I lower my phone to my lap and wait for him to say more.
“Do you want to get out of here?” His blue eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Right now?” It’s nighttime.
“Yes.” He scoots to the edge of the chair and rests his hand on the bed. “I don’t want to be here for another second. I can move the doctors to our house or get better ones. I’ll have Dr. Carrington flown there twice a week if you want to keep seeing her.”
My head must still be injured because his words don’t make sense. “Where is there?”
“Hellfire,” he says like it’s obvious.
He expects me to go back to work? Yeah, I’m feeling better.
I stroll around the room in my walking cast and venture to the floor’s private terrace for light activity, but I can’t imagine serving in the ballroom club while pregnant—and with his baby.
Am I to be his weekend fuck buddy too? Does he even want me in that way still, or is this to keep me close until the baby is born?
Would he trade me out for someone sexier then?
Treat me differently. Would he fight for full custody of our baby, knowing he could win against me?
Too many emotions hit me at once. The sting of tears, the brutal scraping of my heart, and a crushing ache so deep it steals the air from my lungs.
I turn my head away and wipe my eyes, trying to breathe and get a hold of myself. What is wrong with me? Is it the pregnancy? Dr. Carrington said I could be more emotional.
Thank God I’m no longer hooked up to the monitors, or they’d be going off.
Wes stands and leans over me. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
His response confirms my suspicion. He doesn’t think his words could cause me pain because he’s only interested in the baby.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I just…” I sniffle.
“I don’t think I want to work there anymore.
I wouldn’t feel comfortable. And I don’t need or expect anything more from you.
You’ve done enough. I won’t keep the baby from you.
We can work out the details later, but I don’t want to work for you anymore. ”
He circles the bed and lowers to his knees so he can see my face.
“I don’t want you to work for me. I don’t ever want you to work again, unless you want to.
Fable,” he says tenderly, cupping my wet cheeks and forcing me to look into his eyes.
“I want you. I want our baby. I want to give you both the world. I want to make Hellfire our home. I bought out the other owners and shut down the club. The mansion is ours now and ours alone—to do with whatever we want. Whatever you want. If that’s to sell it for another place, we can do that.
Everything I have is yours now. It’s always been yours… since the day you saved me.”
I shake my head again, his sweet words messing with me. Am I even hearing him correctly?
He stills my head with a gentle squeeze.
“Not no, Fable. Yes.” With a smirk, he stands, his hands never leaving my face as he tilts my head back.
His bangs fall forward, covering one eye as he bends and kisses my wet lips.
He lingers there before pulling away and holds my gaze.
“You and me. We’re going to figure it all out together.
We’re going to be the best parents ever, and we’re going to live the happy life we were robbed of as children.
I promise to protect you, care for you, tie you up whenever you wish, and love you until the day I die. ”
“You can’t love me,” I blurt as if it’s impossible.
“I can, and I have since the day we met six years ago. I loved how strong you were, how caring, how clever, and brave. I loved you like a savior. And when we met again, that love transformed into something deeper and more intimate. I love the way your eyes light up when you’re in an abandoned place.
I love that you see beauty in it. I love your posts, right down to the music you choose.
I love how you’ve never given up, even with all you’ve lost. You keep going, you fight.
You’re the bravest person I know.” He kisses my lips again like he can’t help himself.
I soften, a small moan slipping free as I try to absorb and believe everything he's saying.
“I really love that. The way you respond to me, and the trust you give every time we’re together. I love every inch of your delectable body. And I love kissing you. I’ve never ever loved kissing. I don’t do it.”
“You don’t?”
“No. But I can’t get enough of these.” He kisses me again, deeper, delving his tongue into my mouth and showing me how much he enjoys kissing me. “You taste like heaven.” He rests his forehead against mine.
Relief washes over me, and a smile tugs my lips. “I didn’t think you wanted me anymore.”
“That would be your concussion, angel,” he says with a beautiful grin.
I giggle. “My head is healed.” And then my emotions are back in the rapids, rocking up and down.
“Why are you frowning?” He lowers his hands from my face, his expression filled with concern.
New tears form in my eyes. I wipe them away and stare at the blue blanket pulled up to my waist. “I don’t know if I should say this… but after the accident and what you told me about our past… I still thought about running away. I wasn’t sure about you.”
“I know.” He crosses his arms, but his tone is soft.
“You knew?” I ask, shocked.
“That’s why I gave you space. It killed me to do it, but you needed it.”
Another giggle escapes me at the irony. “Part of why I thought that is because you weren’t… touching me.”
That sexy spark shines in his eyes again.
“What?”
“I’m glad I broke my promise and gave in to my urges to touch you.
I swore I wouldn’t until you brought up the topic.
But it’s hard when you’re lying next to me like a dream with your dark hair all over the pillow and your honey skin tempting me to touch it.
My cock has been craving you for weeks. If it were up to me, I’d climb in this ridiculously small bed and have my way with you right now. ”
My body heats. “And if a nurse were to walk in?”
“My bare arse would give her the show of a lifetime.”
I crack up, my bruised ribs barely giving me any pain.
“Now that’s a smile I’ve missed seeing.”
It’s the worst time to sober up and confess this, but the emotion crashes into me like that truck did, making me vulnerable. I put my hand over my belly. “I’m scared.”
He sits on the edge of the bed and takes my hand, kissing it. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”
“Promise?”