Chapter 28
Indie
The drive back to the estate felt like it took forever.
Kenzo didn’t say much, which I was grateful for. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Wasn’t in the mood to do anything but get home and crawl into bed.
My whole body ached. My neck was sore from where Wes had choked me. My face hurt from where he’d hit me and my wrists were raw from the rope, but the physical pain wasn’t even the worst part. It was the mental shit.
The fear that kept replaying in my head. The sound of the gunshot when Javion killed Troy. The blood that hit my skin. The feeling of being helpless, tied to that chair. The terror that I was gonna die. That my baby was gonna die.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, trying to reassure myself that everything was okay. That the baby was still there. Still safe. But I didn’t know for sure, and that scared the hell out of me.
When we finally pulled up to the estate, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The armed guards let us through the gate once they confirmed our identities. Kenzo drove through and parked near the front entrance.
He turned to look at me, his expression serious.
“You good, Indie?” he asked.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it.
“Aight. Get some rest. Stone’ll be home soon.”
I climbed out of the car and walked to the front door. My legs felt heavy, like I was dragging weights with every step. When I got inside, the house was quiet. The lights were dimmed, and I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.
I walked upstairs slowly, my hand gripping the railing for support.
When I reached Ishmael’s room, I stopped and peeked inside. He was asleep. Completely knocked out, his mouth slightly open, one arm hanging off the side of the bed. He had no idea what had happened today.
No idea that I’d been kidnapped. No idea that I’d almost died. And I wanted to keep it that way. At least for now. I didn’t want him to worry. Didn’t want him to feel guilty. Because none of this was his fault.
I closed his door quietly and walked down the hall to the master bedroom.
Our bedroom. Mine and Stone’s.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing it behind me. The room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the windows.
I walked over to the bathroom and flipped on the light, squinting against the brightness.
I looked at myself in the mirror, and I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
My hair was a mess, tangled and wild. My face was ashen, my eyes red and swollen from crying.
The bruises on my neck were dark purple, finger-shaped marks that made my stomach turn.
My split lip was swollen, a dried line of blood crusted at the corner of my mouth.
I looked like I’d been through hell. Because I had.
I turned away from the mirror and grabbed my toothbrush.
I brushed my teeth slowly, methodically, trying to focus on the simple task.
I tried not to think about everything that had happened, but it was impossible.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Wes’s face.
I heard his voice. I felt his hands around my throat.
I spit into the sink and rinsed my mouth, then turned on the shower. I stripped out of my clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. I didn’t even care. I just wanted to wash the day off of me. I wanted to feel clean again.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water cascade over my body. It felt good. Almost too good. The heat soothed my aching muscles, and I closed my eyes, tilting my head back.
For a moment, I just stood there and breathed. I just let the water wash over me. But then it hit me. All of it. The fear, the terror, the realization of how close I’d come to dying. How close my baby had come to dying.
My knees buckled, and I sank down onto the shower floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I started sobbing. Not the quiet, controlled kind of crying. The ugly kind. The kind where you can’t catch your breath.
Where your whole body shakes and you feel like you’re breaking apart from the inside out.
I could’ve died.
I could’ve fucking died.
And my baby—
Oh God, my baby.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, my sobs getting louder. What if something happened to the baby? What if the stress, the fear, the trauma... what if it hurt them? What if I lost them? The thought made me feel sick. Made my chest tighten so much I thought I might pass out.
And then there was Ishmael.
If I had died, he would’ve been alone. Completely alone in this world. No parents. No sister. No real family to take care of him.
The water mixed with my tears, running down my face, my neck, my chest. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t stop the thoughts from spiraling, because this wasn’t just about today. This was about everything.
This was about the life I was living now, and the man I loved. The world he operated in. Stone’s world was dangerous. I’d always known that but today made it real in a way it hadn’t been before. Today, I’d felt the consequences of loving a man like him, of being tied to a man like him.
And now I was pregnant.
Now I was bringing a child into this world. A child who would have Stone’s blood. A child who would have a target on their back from the moment they were born. The thought made me feel sick all over again.
What kind of life was that for a baby? What kind of mother was I if I brought a child into this world knowing they’d never be safe? Knowing that at any moment someone could use them to get to Stone?
I wrapped my arms around myself, my body trembling.
I didn’t blame Stone for what happened. I knew it wasn’t his fault. Knew he’d done everything he could to protect me. But I also couldn’t ignore the fact that his lifestyle was the reason it happened in the first place. If he wasn’t who he was, none of this would’ve happened.
Javion wouldn’t have betrayed us. Wes wouldn’t have kidnapped me. I wouldn’t be sitting here, terrified for my baby’s life.
I stayed in the shower until the water started to run cold. Until my sobs turned into quiet hiccups, and I felt empty. Completely and utterly empty.
I finally stood up, my legs shaky, and turned off the water. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying myself off slowly.
My movements were mechanical and robotic. Like I was going through the motions, but not really present.
I walked back into the bedroom and opened one of the dresser drawers. I pulled out a black silk nightie and slipped it on, then I climbed into bed. The sheets were cool against my skin. I pulled the comforter up to my chin and laid on my side, facing the wall. Staring at nothing.
Sleep wouldn’t come. I was exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, but my mind wouldn’t shut off. I just kept thinking. About the baby. About Ishmael. About Stone. About the future. About what kind of life we were gonna have.
I wasn’t sure how long I laid there like that. It could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours. Time didn’t feel real anymore. But eventually, I heard the bedroom door open.
I didn’t move, didn’t turn around. I just kept staring at the wall, my body tense.
I heard Stone’s footsteps as he walked into the room. I heard him pause, probably looking at me. Then I heard him walk into the bathroom.
A moment later, the shower turned on. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the water.
He probably thought I was asleep, and I was gonna let him keep thinking that because I didn’t want to talk to him right now. I didn’t want to get into it. I didn’t want to risk saying something that would start a fight. We’d been through enough today.
The shower ran for about ten minutes before it turned off. I heard Stone moving around in the bathroom—brushing his teeth, probably. And then the light clicked off.
I felt the bed dip as he climbed in next to me.
He moved slowly, carefully, and I heard him grunt softly.
His shoulder. He was in pain from the gunshot wound.
I felt his arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. He was warm.
He was solid and safe, like always, but my body tensed. I couldn’t help it.
Stone noticed immediately.
“Indigo,” he said, his voice low. “You awake?”
I didn’t respond. I just kept my eyes closed, hoping he’d leave me be. But of course, he didn’t. He turned me gently so I was facing him, his hand cupping my cheek.
“Indigo,” he said again. “You good?”
I opened my eyes, and the second I looked at him, I started crying again.
“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m not good, Stone. I could’ve fuckin’ died. I could’ve lost the baby. I’m not even sure if the baby’s okay.”
Stone’s jaw tightened, and I saw the guilt flash across his face. He exhaled deeply, his thumb stroking my cheek.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said quietly. “Tell me what you need from me. What can I do to help you? We can go see Dr. Roberts tomorrow and check on the baby. What else do you need? I’ll do anything you need me to do. I just need you to be okay.”
I was quiet for a long time because I wasn’t sure how he’d respond to what I needed. But I had to say it. Had to let him know where my head was at.
“I need you to tell me you won’t be living this life forever,” I said, my voice shaking. “I need to know our child will grow up without a target on their back because of their daddy.”
Stone’s thumb stopped moving on my cheek. His expression went blank. It was unreadable. For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then he asked, “You saying you want me to leave the game? Go legit?”
I nodded, tears streaming down my face.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I’m saying. That’s what I need.”
Stone was quiet for a minute. I could see him thinking, silently processing my words. And then he asked, “You gon’ leave me if I don’t?”
I didn’t respond because we both knew the answer. I wouldn’t leave him. I couldn’t leave him. And even if I tried, he wouldn’t let me.
Stone would never let me go.
He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine, and then he spoke.
“Aight,” he said. “If that’s what you need, then that’s what I’ma do. Before the baby is here, I’ll be out the game.”
I blinked, shocked. I hadn’t expected him to agree. Not that easily. Not without a fight.
“Do you really mean it?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Stone leaned down and kissed me deeply, slowly. It seemed like he was pouring everything he felt into that kiss. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“Yeah, I mean it, baby,” he said. “Nothing in this world is more important to me than you, our baby, and Ishmael. If you want me out the game, then I’m out.”
I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me.
“Thank you, Stone,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, softer this time.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” I said.
He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. I closed my eyes, breathing him in. I’d just been taken, held hostage, used as leverage. But here, in Stone’s arms, I felt safe again.
I thought about how we got here. About that night in the warehouse, when Stone had planned to kill Ishmael. When I’d offered myself to save my brother’s life.
I never would’ve imagined that the man who’d taken me and held me captive, would become the love of my life. That I’d be pregnant with his child. That I’d be planning a future with him. That he’d leave the drug game because it was what I wanted.
But here we were.
And I was thankful for everything that had happened, because Stone was my soulmate. Our love was meant to be.
I knew that no matter what came next, we’d face it together.