Chapter 13
REBEL
Why is it time seems to fly by when a person is blissfully happy?
Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Rogue and me to run off to a little twenty-four-seven wedding chapel to get married. It was a spur of the moment thing, and I’ll forever remember the day.
After we had got married, Rogue and I went to the clubhouse, where he announced it to the club. I’m not just his wife now, but officially his ol’ lady. That part, he didn’t even ask me. He simply declared it. I don’t mind, because it’s the truth. I’m his, just as he’s mine.
Everyone had congratulated us. Most of them stating it’s about time. They all know Rogue and I used to be together, so of course, they’d make that comment.
Sunday, Rogue and I’d spent the day alone in bed. It’s wonderful. I had even declared Sundays to be our day of doing nothing but staying in bed or lounging around the house together. Rogue had agreed, and we ended up ordering pizza and eating while watching a movie in bed.
Rogue told me last night he’d be gone before I got up this morning. He had to go on a run for the club today. At first, I’d started to panic, but he promised it wouldn’t be like last time. He’d promised he’d be home by the time I got off work.
Sitting up in bed, I pick up my phone to find a text from Rogue. I smile when I see what he’d changed his name to on my phone.
Ol’ Man: Love you, Duchess. Good luck in court today. Call me after. I’ll have my phone on me at all times.
Ol’ Man: Don’t forget if something happens, let me know ASAP. I won’t lose you.
Ol’ Man: Check this song out when you wake up.
I smile as I click on the link he’d sent me. It’s a song by Sam Riggs, “One More Chance To Stay.” Listening to the song, tears spill down my cheeks. It’s beautiful.
Texting him back, I tell him I love him and the song. I also add I’ll let him know if I won or not. I don’t know if anything else would happen, but I’d call.
Hopping out of bed, I’m suddenly hit with a nauseous feeling, but it goes away. It’s probably my nerves. I’ve been working hard at preparing for this case today, and I need to be on my game.
With my phone in hand, I head into the bathroom. I hit play again on the song while I get in the shower. As I massage the shampoo in my hair, I’m hit with another wave of nausea.
What in the world?
I never get like this.
Rinsing my hair, I finish my shower as quickly as I can. Turning the water off, I open the door to my shower and grab my towel. I wrap it around my body and pick up my phone, a thought coming to mind. But I want to double-check something.
I open the app I use to keep track of my period and stare in horror. I’d completely forgotten to mark off when I started the last two months.
Oh shit. The more I think about it, I didn’t have one.
Fudgers on a stick.
With a shaking hand, I touch my stomach.
Am I pregnant?
Kneeling down, I reach under my sink and pull out a pregnancy test the other ol’ ladies had jokingly given to me the other weekend.
I’d laughed at the fact they gave it to me then, but now as I nervously open the package and take the test, I’m scared.
I follow the directions and decide while I wait for the results to go get dressed. There’re only two possible answers I’ll be getting. I just don’t know how I’d feel either way. At least not until I see what the test says.
Picking out a black slimming pantsuit, I grab a blue blouse to go under the jacket. Dressed, I go back into the bathroom and suck in a breath as I look at the test to see the result. Positive.
My mind spins for a moment thinking of the last time I had my period. It’d have been right before Rogue and I’d had sex the first time.
Fear shoots through me that this baby might be Grant’s, but it can’t be. Grant told me he had a vasectomy after his mother attempted to kill his sister Luna. He’d said he never wanted to take the chance of knocking someone up. He also had always wore a condom with me.
This baby is Rogue’s. Mine and Xander’s.
Glancing up from the test to meet my own gaze, tears slip down my cheeks. How is Rogue going to take the news?
Checking the time, I sigh. I need to finish getting ready. I blow dry my hair, do my make-up—keeping it light, and find my shoes. Leaving the bedroom, I head for the door. Time to put on my game face.
Court went about the way I’d expected. The defendant's lawyer had tried to make it look like his client was an angel. This is not the case. He’s a sick bastard for sexually assaulting my client, the defendant’s own child.
Worst of all, they’d attempted to make the child be in the same room with the monster. Claimed she is thirteen years old. Just because she’s a teenager doesn’t mean she could handle the pressure of being in the same room.
It’s not like this is an easy case. The child’s therapist even explained that she didn’t feel the girl should be in the same room. The trauma she had endured at his hands is more than enough.
What parent in their right mind calls sexual acts exercise? It’s disturbing in itself. I’m proud of the girl for finally getting the courage to tell her mother about what was happening.
The thought of someone doing that to my own child sickens me.
In the end, I won the case, and the mother continued to thank me after they took the defendant away. We had luck on our side today.
With Judge Raymond being removed from his duties as a judge for this court, that gave us a better chance. There were one or two other judges I am suspicious about, but until I can prove otherwise, I’m keeping my head down on that one.
Leaving the courthouse, I get in my car and head back home. I didn’t have anything else at the office to do today, so I’m taking the rest of it to relax after that win.
It doesn’t take me long to get home. Snagging the mail from the mailbox, I walk into the house, making sure to lock the door behind me.
I set the mail on the counter in the kitchen and go to my room and change out of my power-suit to a pair of leggings and a t-shirt.
With the weather being cooler, I find a zip-up hoodie and throw it over my shirt.
Zipping it up halfway, I head back into the kitchen.
I make myself a glass of sweet tea and sort through the mail.
Most of it’s either bills or junk mail. Getting to the last thing, my brows furrow at the sight of the envelope. My stomach churns, not seeing a return address.
I pick up my phone and call Rogue. I don’t know what this is, but I have a really bad feeling about it.
“Hey Duchess,” he says, answering on the second ring. “We’re ba—”
“I just received another envelope at the house,” I stammer out, interrupting him.
“What do you mean you got another envelope? Do you mean like the other one you got at the office? And what are you doing at home? I thought you were supposed to call me after court,” he grunts in annoyance.
“I know,” I start. “I wanted to come home after court. I won, but it was emotionally draining. When I got here, I checked the mail, brought it in, changed into comfy clothes, and called you as soon as I saw that the envelope doesn’t have a return address,” I ramble, staring at the yellow manila envelope.
“Have you opened it?” he asks tersely.
“Not yet,” I murmur, picking it up in my free hand. “I’m scared to see what’s in it.”
“Open it, baby, and tell me what is in it.”
I nod, knowing he isn’t able to see the motion. I pull the phone from my ear and put it on speakerphone. Setting my phone down, I gingerly open the envelope and remove the contents.
I scan over the letter first and gasp.
I told you to stay away. You’re nothing but a whore. You can’t give him what he needs. You’ll never be nothing more than a bitch in heat to him. Keep it up and see what happens next.
I flip to the next page, and it’s a letter for Rogue.
You know you miss me. I miss you. Come home where you belong. She can’t give you what I can.
Flipping to the next, I swallow the bile threatening to come up when I come face to face with an image that has haunted my nightmares.
“Rebel,” Rogue calls my name, but I barely hear him as my head goes light and everything grows fuzzy.
This can’t be happening.
Not again.
There’s no way that’s Rogue. I know it’s not. I trust him, but what if . . .
No, I can’t think that way.
Clearing my throat, I find my voice, “Rogue, can you please come home?”
“I’m on the way, Duchess,” he says without hesitation and hangs up.
Putting my phone down, I look at the picture staring at me and try to place who the woman in the picture is. It’s the same image from ten years ago.