Chapter 12 Kelsie
Chapter twelve
Kelsie
I stared with bleary eyes at the glow of my phone screen, composing one text after another to Ryker, telling him the news.
In the end, I chickened out and erased them every time.
Curling up on my side, I wrapped my arms around my middle. For so many years, I had dreamed of this moment. Announcing my pregnancy. Telling the man I loved that we’re going to have a baby. Becoming a mother. Raising a child and watching them grow up.
The fact that Ryker was the father only added to the bittersweetness of the moment.
I wanted all of this—the baby, Ryker, a home and a family together. I wanted it so badly that it was hard to breathe under the weight of yearning that pressed against my lungs.
But the timing was wrong. We were supposed to work our way up to this gradually—dating, getting engaged, planning the wedding. Instead, one night—one night that shouldn’t have happened in the first place—had turned everything upside down.
As sunlight began to filter into my bedroom, I realized there was no delicate way to put this. Those two pink lines had crashed into my life like a wrecking ball.
So I kept it short and simple.
I’m pregnant.
Then I hit send.
It was done. I told him. Eventually, I had to tell Noah, too. But that conversation wasn’t happening over a text message.
I waited for a few minutes, staring at my phone, willing Ryker’s response to appear after those two life-changing, earth-shattering words.
What did I hope he would say? Could I envision him reading bedtime stories to our child? Changing diapers and burping the baby? Spending his weekends at soccer practice or dance recitals, and chatting with other parents at parent-teacher meetings?
I groaned and burrowed into my pillow.
No. I couldn’t. That wasn’t like Ryker.
The scent of coffee wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of dishes. Noah was awake and busy making breakfast. I debated whether I should take a sick day and skip work, but rotting in bed wouldn’t help anything.
Besides, working at the day care could be good practice, since…since I would be having a baby of my own sometime next year.
I checked my phone again. Seven minutes had passed since I sent my message.
No answer from Ryker.
I tried not to freak out. But a tug of uneasiness still twisted in my stomach. He usually moved heaven and earth to make sure he answered when I called. But this time—the one time that I really needed him—he was silent.
Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled into the bathroom.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat as I studied my reflection.
My frizzy bedhead. The dark circles under my swollen, red eyes.
The curve of my stomach, pressed against my T-shirt.
I placed my hand there, imagining what it would be like to feel my baby kick and squirm in my belly.
What if Ryker doesn’t want to be a father?
The thought was sobering. Am I ready to raise a child as a single mother? Noah would help, of course. Even if he was furious with me for the rest of my life, he would never abandon me.
But I had to prepare myself for the reality that Ryker might not want this the way I did.
After a shower, my morning sickness abated to a tolerable level.
I managed to stomach a light breakfast without feeling nauseous.
Noah hummed to himself as he popped two slabs of bread from the toaster, slathered them in a thick layer of blackberry jam just the way I liked it, and offered one to me. I smiled at his thoughtfulness.
He would make the best uncle in the world.
As we ate our toast together, I almost poured out everything to Noah. My feelings for Ryker. Sleeping with him. The surprise pregnancy. And now…the excruciating wait for a response from him.
I wanted to tell Noah how scared I was. I wanted him to wrap me in a hug like he used to when I was little and scared of the dark. I wanted him to tell me that everything would be okay.
“You look distracted this morning, butterbean,” Noah said. Leaning back against the counter, he sipped his coffee, watching me over the rim of his mug for my answer.
I loved his kitchen—spacious and homey. He claimed his obsession with tidiness was merely his military training shining through. But it was more than that.
Noah had worked his ass off to give me a home after our parents died.
He learned how to cook, how to sew a button back on, how to braid my hair.
He learned how to bake my favorite cupcakes for my birthday, and how to create matching last-minute Halloween costumes from whatever he could find around the house.
Noah would work just as hard to make sure my baby was loved as much as I was.
“You can talk to me,” he added. “About anything. I know we’ve had our fair share of arguments over the years. And I can be a total killjoy—”
“You’re not a killjoy,” I said. “Just a stick-in-the-mud.”
“Is that better or worse?”
I smiled softly.
“I think I turned out okay, so it doesn’t matter either way.”
Noah chuckled.
“That’s a good answer. I bet you’re buttering me up for something.”
You have no idea.
But I couldn’t drop the bomb on him now. Not five minutes before I was supposed to leave for work. And I still hoped that Ryker might respond at any minute.
Tonight. I would tell Noah everything tonight. If Ryker hadn’t responded by then…well, I guess this was part of letting him go.
On my way to work, I took a detour, driving by the Blackjacks clubhouse in the hopes that Ryker might be there. Hoping I could talk to him in person. I scanned the parking lot, looking for his bike. He still hadn’t responded to my text, but the read receipt proved that he’d seen it.
That made me feel worse.
I should just call him and get it over with.
But deep down, I knew I was stalling. My pregnancy was going to change my relationship with Ryker.
He purposefully removed himself from people, living in that rustic cabin in the woods, alone.
And now I expected him to eagerly welcome a baby into his life?
Only three bikes were parked at the clubhouse. None of them belonged to him.
Disappointment welled in the pit of my stomach.
On one hand, I wanted to wring his neck for vanishing into thin air like this.
On the other hand, I just felt…heartbroken. I should have kept my feelings in check. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t tried to kiss him that night in his cabin.
By the time I arrived at the day care center, I was ten minutes late. Distracted and in a rush, I grabbed my purse, climbed out of my car, and nudged my door closed with my hip.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
I turned at the sound of a man’s voice, somewhere just behind me. Then a sharp pain pricked the side of my neck. Like a bee-sting. But there were no bees now in November, with a thin layer of snow covering everything.
I whirled around to see a man standing there. Dark blue baseball cap and a gray work uniform, with a name tag that read, Olson. With his stooped shoulders and the thin line of his mouth, he seemed…vaguely familiar.
He held up a syringe. The thin needle gleamed in the morning sunlight.
“Horse tranquilizer. You can get anything online these days.”
As soon as he finished speaking, my world tilted and spun like a carousel. My vision blurred and my knees went wobbly.
This had to be the man who’d been stalking me.
“Help,” I rasped, but my voice came out in a faint whisper.
I grabbed for my car door, but Olson clucked his tongue and took my arm, stepping closer.
“Shhh, calm down, my darling,” he murmured in my ear. “The tranquilizer is pumping through your blood faster with your racing heart.”
A foggy haze clouded my brain. But muscle memory took over. All those tips and tricks Noah and Ryker had taught me over the years. Teaching me how to hit. How to fight back.
Trust your gut, they told me.
I drove my elbow into Olson’s ribs. He grunted and doubled over. I yanked my arm away, stumbling toward the day care. It seemed as if the earth beneath my feet tilted like a boat rocked by stormy waves.
Flinging my hands out, I steadied myself against the building’s brick wall. Only a few feet to the door.
“Help!” I called. Louder this time.
“No, no, don't cause a scene now.” Olson locked an arm around my waist from behind, his sour breath at my ear. “Don’t do that. You’ll draw attention to us—”
“Get off me,” I spat.
“Kelsie?”
A woman. In the parking lot. Macy, my co-worker.
Oh, thank God.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
Olson chuckled.
“She’s just a little tipsy. My girlfriend had too much to drink last night on our date. She’s still hungover.”
“No, I am not—” I hissed.
Olson squeezed my arm so hard that the bone threatened to snap. I broke off with a whimper. Macy frowned, looking concerned.
“Kelsie hasn’t mentioned you…”
Darkness pulsed at the edges of my vision. I swayed to the side far enough that I felt like I would topple over. The only thing keeping me upright was Olson’s bruising grip on my arm, pinning me against his chest.
“He’s—he’s lying—” I slurred.
Olson pulled something from his pocket and held it out in Macy’s direction. Something small and dark. A…pistol?
No.
A can of pepper spray.
Macy backed up, alarmed.
Then the rumble of a motorcycle engine ripped through the morning air. Ryker barrelled into the parking lot at full speed, skidding to a stop.
“Get away from her,” he growled.
He’s here, I thought with relief. He’s finally here and I’m safe. Everything will be okay—
Ryker climbed off his bike, marching toward us.
Olson turned the pepper spray on him and released a fiery cloud, directly into his face. Ryker gagged and choked, but he continued plowing forward. Relentless. Unstoppable.
Olson hauled me backward, retreating in the face of Ryker’s onslaught. He emptied the pepper spray into Ryker’s eyes.
Ryker kept coming.
I was fading fast. My head felt like a bowling ball, heavy and unwieldy, lolling forward. But I kicked and thrashed with the last of my fading strength. Maybe I could dislodge the pepper spray. Or distract Olson to give Ryker a fighting chance.
“Fucking coward!” Ryker bellowed. “I’ll kill you for putting your fucking hands on her.”
Everything was a blur now. Just indistinct blobs of color—the blanket of white snow, the stretch of black pavement, Ryker’s swollen, blotchy face. He was nearly frothing at the mouth with pepper burns, and his eyes streamed with tears.
Olson barked a laugh. He tossed the now empty can aside. A moment later, I felt the sharp edge of a blade pressed to my throat. When I swallowed, the knife bit into my jugular.
“Me?” he said, incredulous. “I’m the coward? You’re the one groping your best friend’s little sister behind his back. If anyone is a coward here, it’s you.”
Ryker roared with so much rage that he was shaking with it.
“If you want her, come and fight me for her. Man to man.”
Olson snorted.
“Look at you. You’re supposed to be some elite soldier. A skilled hunter. A deadly marksman. But a stiff breeze would knock you over right now.”
As Olson continued pulling me backward, Ryker closed the gap between us. He was in no condition to fight though. Every breath was a struggle that clearly pained him, wheezing, strained. All that pepper spray probably inflamed his airways.
Olson stroked my hair with his clammy palm.
“Don’t worry,” he crooned. “I won’t hurt her. We’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together.” His voice rose as he spoke, reaching a hysterical pitch. “You’re nothing to her. Do you hear me? Nothing. Just a backwoods hick. A fucking trained ape.”
Ryker lunged.
His fist collided with Olson’s face. I twisted away blindly, hitting the cold pavement. My throat burned and my body felt like I was crawling through a vat of molasses.
The baby, I thought. Sick with worry. What if I lose her? Dear God, I hope she’s okay.
Behind me, Ryker and Olson grappled for control. A sob clogged in my throat. I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t—
A spray of blood stained the snow. Ryker lurched backward, cradling his stomach. A six-inch gash arced across his torso, from hip to ribs.
“Stay away!” Olson screeched, waving the knife at Ryker.
He scooped his arms around my waist and hauled me into a nearby car. I sagged against the back seat, reaching for the door handle. I snagged it with two fingers.
The locking mechanism thumped into place.
“Ryker,” I pleaded.
My eyes slipped closed. As unconsciousness dragged me under, the memory of Ryker replayed in my mind.
Fighting for me.
Bleeding for me.
He came for me when I needed him after all.