Chapter 7 #2
No! What the hell had I done? How could I have forgotten?
A cold prickle spread down my spine, completely at odds with the lingering warmth of her body pressed into mine. My stomach dropped, hollowing out as the realization settled deeper, heavier. I yanked my pants up, disgusted with myself.
I shifted back slightly, the movement jarring. It was like waking from a nightmare. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it at the pulse points in my neck and wrists. Each beat an accusation.
You didn’t use a fucking condom. Idiot. You never do shit like this.
I grabbed her, turning her around and practically shouted. “God, tell me you’re on birth control. I can’t believe I fucking did that.”
My hands curled reflexively, fingers flexing as if I could rewind this entire evening. I dragged in a slow breath, then another, forcing air into lungs that didn’t seem to want to work anymore.
Why the fuck wasn’t she answering.
“Victoria?” I barked.
She gulped, and hurt and shame filled her eyes. And just like that, everything in me buckled. Each agonizing moment she refused to speak only increased my fear. Hell, fear wasn’t even a good enough descriptor for it.
I’d spent my entire life as a fucking adult controlling this one aspect with near-religious precision. Because control meant safety. And fucking safety was everything. This couldn’t happen. I staggered back another step, unable to come to terms with everything.
“Answer me, goddamn it.”
“I–um…” she sputtered.
But her voice barely registered. It was swallowed whole by the roar in my head. By the way, my thoughts collided, stacked, and then splintered against every wall I’d constructed my life around. Walls that were built to avoid this very thing.
Many years ago, before I’d ever been with a woman, I’d sworn off having children of my own. My mother’s face flashed through my mind. Memories of reality bent at the edges, of voices that only she heard.
The paranoia that surrounded her unmedicated moments. The sickness that led to her hurting me time and time again. I lived through the fallout of her illness. I was almost a statistic because of it.
Research suggested a genetic predisposition. A measurable increase in risk when a first-degree relative carried the diagnosis. Schizophrenia wasn’t a guarantee. But it was a gamble. One I wasn’t willing to make with someone else’s life.
The idea of bringing a child into the world knowing there was even a chance that they’d inherit it made my chest tighten. I wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t roll the dice. Wouldn’t sentence a person to spend their life wondering if their own mind would someday turn against them.
My gaze snapped back to her, pulse still hammering. The dread sat heavy in my gut as the reality of what I’d done set in further. This was my worst nightmare.
“Victoria,” I barked once more.
“I ha…ha…have an implant,” she breathed, her fingers caressing her left inner arm.
A sharp breath escaped before I even realized I’d been holding it. One hand gripped the edge of the car, knuckles whitening from the strain. Relief came hard and fast, flooding my system like a dam bursting. I stood there for a moment, letting it settle, forcing my lungs to follow suit.
Across from me, she adjusted her dress with trembling hands, her movements jerky and unsteady. She went to open the car door, and my brain finally kicked into gear. I moved and opened it for her. She climbed in slowly, head bowed. But this time it wasn’t in submission.
It was more like devastation. The kind that hollowed a person from the inside out.
There was no fight in her. The only thing that remained was a sort of quiet ruin.
And not the good kind. I braced myself, taking a long breath meant to steady me, then another, before circling around to the driver’s side.
My hands shook violently at the carelessness of my actions.
I climbed inside and sat for a moment behind the wheel.
Her hair hung down, covering her lovely face.
For once, I was glad not to be staring into her eyes.
Guilt like I’d never felt before consumed me.
I cleared my throat, but she didn’t move.
“I’m sorry. What happened tonight, was a mistake. It wasn’t how that was supposed to happen. I’ve always used protection. Kids aren’t something I’ve ever wanted. Ever,” I emphasized, trying not to sound gruff and irritated, but failing at the same time.
My words resonated, and she flinched. Fucking physically flinched and shrunk back against the side of the door as if I had backhanded her. I started the car, backed out, and drove to the hotel, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.
The weather had turned, and the atmosphere in the car mirrored the stormy sky, heavy with unspoken words and regret. The only person to blame was me. I let my dick control my actions, and now tears filled her lovely eyes and bloomed down her cheeks.
The weight of what I’d done—my misjudgment and lack of safe sex protocols—churned inside my stomach. We arrived at the hotel, the sad sounds of classical music our only companion.
“Thank you for tonight,” she whispered as I pulled into the valet area.
Marcus was waiting. He must have checked the GPS location we had installed in the car. I handed the keys over to him, avoiding his eyes. As the ever-watchful man he was, he put a hand on my shoulder, sensing things hadn’t gone well. I shrugged it off, unwilling even to meet his eyes.
Victoria and I walked silently through the lobby. Within the confines of the lift, the only sound was the soft hum of the floors ascending. Stepping out, I wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t form.
My head throbbed as I pressed the keycard to the door. It lit up green. She stepped inside and hastily made her way to the bedroom suite. I went to the bar and poured myself a drink. Eyeing my phone, I wondered if I should give up and call in the calvary.
COUNSELOR:
You awake?
BLADE:
Yup, just watching my sweet girl sleep. What’s up?
COUNSELOR:
Meet me at the hotel gym tomorrow morning?
BLADE:
You got it.
I needed to talk it out, to get his counsel. My ability to remain in control had been an abject failure.
Fuck my life.