Chapter Thirteen Xalori Carson
The soft beeping of a heart monitor dragged me back into the world, each sound thudding through my skull like a warning.
My body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry.
My limbs were heavy, throat dry as bone, and my head pounding like I’d taken a hit.
But none of it mattered because the moment my eyes cracked opened, the first thing I saw was him.
Eason sat slouched in a chair next to my hospital bed, gripping my hand like he was afraid to let go.
His normally sharp and menacing glare was shadowed with something dangerously close to vulnerability.
His jaw was locked, his face a mix of exhaustion and fury, like he was one wrong move away from fucking snapping.
As soon as I shifted, his head shot up with his dark eyes locking onto mine instantly.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, dragging a rough hand down his face. His grip tightened on my hand, like if he let go, I’d disappear.
“You scared the fuck outta me, Muffin.”
I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper. I swallowed thickly, my confusion must’ve been written all over my face because Eason leaned in closer, his big body curling protectively around mine.
“You collapsed in the parking lot,” he continued, his tone low and raw with an emotion I couldn’t place. “One second, you were walking away, and the next your knees buckled. I caught you before you hit the ground.”
A small breath shuddered past my lips. His usually dark, commanding, and unshakeable voice was cracked around the edges. I’d never seen Eason like this and it kinda fucked me up. But before I could say anything, the door swung open.
A doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand and his expression unreadable. “Ms. Carson,” he said, nodding. “Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
Like my life was about to shift and I couldn’t stop it.
“Fine,” I rasped, my voice hoarse.
The doctor nodded, flipping through his chart. “You experienced a vasovagal syncope episode, likely caused by extreme stress, exhaustion, and dehydration. Your blood pressure was dangerously low when you arrived, and frankly, given your current condition, this was a wake-up call.”
I frowned, my brows furrowing together. “Current condition?”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Eason stiffened beside me. The doctor adjusted his glasses before delivering the words that made my whole world tilt on its axis.
“You’re pregnant.”
The words slammed into me like a head-on collision. I froze, my body locking up.
Pregnant?
I jerked my head toward Eason. His body didn’t move, but the air around him did. His whole aura darkened and intensified, like a storm cloud ready to break the fucking sky open. He didn’t blink or speak, he just stared at me. Possessively, savagely, and unyieldingly.
The doctor kept talking, completely unaware of the bomb he’d just dropped.
“You’re about ten weeks along,” he continued casually.
“Based on the ultrasound and bloodwork, both you and the baby seem stable for now. But moving forward, you need to seriously reduce your stress levels and stay hydrated. Regular checkups are mandatory, no exceptions.”
My stomach twisted, a knot forming that I couldn’t untangle.
Ten weeks.
This wasn’t new. This wasn’t a few days missed period. This had been happening inside me—growing, breathing, and living—while I’d been spiraling, surviving, and fighting ghosts. While I’d been pushing Eason away. While I’d been falling for him.
I didn’t even realize I was trembling until Eason’s hand curled tighter around mine. His voice, when it finally came, was low, dangerous, and raw.
“My fucking baby,” he whispered.
And at that moment, I knew. Whatever plans I thought I had, whatever walls I thought I could keep between us were already gone. His entire world had just shifted. His obsession, possessiveness, and territorial instincts had skyrocketed into something even darker, deeper, and more dangerous.
The doctor kept talking, but I couldn’t hear shit over the blood rushing in my ears.
With my period being late and the changes in my body lately, deep down, I’d suspected it. But I wanted so desperately to be wrong. Yet here I was. Pregnant by a married man.
Before I could even fully process the nightmare, before I could even catch my breath, Eason was on his feet, towering over me like a storm about to snap. His dark eyes drilled into mine, lethal and unyielding.
“Did you fucking know?” He questioned, his voice low, vibrating with barely restrained rage.
I swallowed hard, nodding weakly. I was too scared to lie, too scared to even speak.
His smirk was slow and lethal, it spread across his face like he had just won the goddamn lottery.
“Oh, Muffin,” he murmured reaching down, his fingers brushing against my stomach so tenderly it damn near made me cry. “You just sealed your fucking fate.”
My breathing hitched.
His palm flattened over my lower belly, claiming what grew inside me like it already wore his name. His gaze locked onto mine, wild, dark, and final. It was a silent vow, a threat, and a branding burned into my soul.
“I meant what I said before,” he continued, voice thick and rough like gravel. “You’re mine. Nas is mine. And now, this baby just made sure you never fucking escape me.”
His other hand curled around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw with a gentleness that contradicted the savagery in his eyes.
“You hear me, Muffin?” His forehead pressed against mine. His breath hot against my lips, dragging shivers down my spine. “Ain’t no more running. Ain’t no more fighting this.”
Before I could react, before I could even think, he kissed me. A soft and devastating kiss that tasted like ownership sealing the promise he just made.
Attempting to sit up, I frowned when I felt my wrist constricted from moving.
“What the hell?” I breathed, jerking both of my wrists, confusion clouding my mind until realization hit me fast.
I was cuffed to the bed like a damn criminal. My nostrils flared and my heartbeat thundered. My furious gazed locked onto Eason standing there, arms crossed, and a slow and lethal smirk curling his lips like he had all the time in the fucking world.
“This some sick ass joke?” I hissed, yanking at the cuffs.
“Nah, Muffin,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice terrifyingly calm. “This is me making sure you don’t do some dumb shit like trying to run again.”
I yanked again, the metal digging into my wrist. “You better uncuff me, Eason. Now.”
He released a deep, dark, and unapologetic chuckle. “Nah, Muffin,” he said again, his voice dropping even lower. “Not yet. See, you just got hit with a lot of shit. Your body damn near gave out on you ‘cause of it. And I know you baby. I know exactly what you’re planning.”
I glared at him, my jaw tightening.
“You wanna run,” he whispered. “Don’t you?”
I swallowed hard.
His body leaned in until he was caging me against the bed, his hands gripping the railing, his scent surrounding me.
“That’s over with,” he said, his voice vibrating straight through my bones. “You hear me, Muffin? Over with.”
“You don’t get to decided that!” I snapped yanking again, my wrists burning.
The smirk slid off his face so smoothly. In one swift motion, his hand clamped around my jaw. Not hurting me, but holding me still, forcing me to look at him and to feel him.
“The moment I laid eyes on you in that emergency room,” he growled, voice so low it was almost a purr, “you became mine.”
He leaned in closer, his mouth brushing my ear, his breath hot and shattering.
“The first time I slid inside you, you became my soul.”
And just like that, my fate was sealed.
The weight of his words pressed down on me, heavy and inescapable. I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat as I glared at him, trying to force my emotions under control. But there was no controlling shit when it came to Eason Storm. He was relentless, consuming, and unshakable.
His grip on me tightened with every breath I took. His smirk didn’t even flicker. “You can’t run if you’re cuffed, Muffin.”
A growl escaped my lips. “I wasn’t running.”
His gaze dropped to my face, scanning every inch like he could see the lies slipping off my tongue. “Then why the fuck was you damn near running from me like you ain’t hear me calling you? Like you ain’t just watch me claim you in front of the whole fucking city?”
I sucked in a shaky breath, my chest rising and falling too fast. “Because I needed air.”
“Bullshit.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, fighting the tears threatening to break free. “I was leaving,” I whispered.
“You was running.”
My nostrils flared as my anger flared right alongside it.
“Because I found out you’re married.”
His whole body locked up, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth together.
“I was married,” he corrected sharply. His voice was pure gravel, pure pain.
“She walked out on me. She walked out on Ginger. That bitch ain’t been my wife in a year and six months.”
I scoffed, ripping my gaze away from him.
“But legally, she is.”
He exhaled through his nose, slow and deadly, his thumb brushing against my knuckles — a touch too soft for the fire blazing in his chest.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Legally, yeah. But that paper don’t mean shit. That bitch been dead to me since the night she left my daughter and never looked back.”
I swallowed thickly. I should’ve felt relief. Should’ve let those words settle somewhere inside me.
But the damage was already done.
“You could’ve told me,” I said hoarsely, the betrayal slicing me deeper than I wanted to admit. “You could’ve given me the choice to decide if I wanted to be involved in all this shit.”
Eason’s laugh was low, dark, and vicious.
“Choice?” he repeated, stepping even closer. “Every time you tightened around my dick, every time you came screaming my fucking name, you made your choice, Muffin.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Every time you let Nas call me Daddy, every time you looked me in my eyes and didn’t fucking run, you chose me.”
His voice dropped even lower, dripping with possessive venom.
“You been mine, Muffin. The only thing left is for you to fucking accept it.”
My chest heaved. My body, traitorous and needy, betrayed me — aching for him even while my mind screamed to resist.
But I knew damn well it was pointless. Fighting Eason was like fighting a goddamn tidal wave. And I was already drowning.
He dropped his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged, his hand slipping from my jaw to my throat — not choking, not hurting, just feeling my pulse thunder under his fingertips.
“I ain’t lettin’ you go, baby,” he whispered, voice thick with obsession.
“I don’t give a fuck how mad you are. I don’t give a fuck how scared you are. You and this baby are mine. Nasir is mine. You all mine.”
His lips brushed mine, a featherlight kiss that made my stomach flip violently.
“So, you can fight me all you want,” he murmured, his breath sinking into my mouth, “but you ain’t ever leaving me. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next.”
I blinked back the sting in my eyes, my chest shuddering under the weight of it. Because deep down, despite every warning bell screaming inside me, I didn’t want to leave.
I never fucking wanted to leave him. And he knew it.
The hospital discharge process was a fucking blur. Between the nurse’s rushed instructions, the stack of papers shoved into my hand, and Eason’s iron grip on my waist, I barely registered anything.
It wasn’t until the cool night air slapped my face that reality finally clicked.
I thought he would take me home. My home.
Back to the little duplex where I could collapse into my bed, crawl under my blankets, and pretend like my world wasn’t burning down.
But when I spotted the sleek black SUV idling out front, tinted windows gleaming under the streetlights like a warning, I knew.
I knew exactly where he was taking me. And it sure as hell wasn’t back to my place.
I stopped cold.
“Eason—”
His arm tightened around me instantly, not rough but firm enough that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t start,” he muttered, steering me toward the car.
I dug my heels into the concrete, planting my feet like a goddamn tree. “I’m not going to your damn penthouse.”
He exhaled slowly, the sound sharp enough to slice through the thick tension between us. Then he turned, facing me fully.
“You need rest,” he said, his voice low and deadly calm. “You need to be somewhere safe. Somewhere I can watch you.”
His gaze burned into mine, daring me to push him. I lifted my chin.
“Take me home, Eason.”
He tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming under the streetlight.
“Muffin,” he murmured, his voice smooth like sin, “where the fuck you think home is?”
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt. I opened my mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Because deep down, I knew the truth.
I wasn’t going back to my little empty duplex. I wasn’t going back to loneliness, to pretending like I didn’t need anybody. Home was him. It was Eason.
But stubbornness was stitched into my goddamn DNA.
“I’m not your problem.” I gritted out, my hands balling into weak fists.
He smirked. “No, Muffin,” he said, closing the distance between us, “you my whole fucking responsibility.”
Before I could blink, he had the car door open and me tucked inside like it was the most natural thing in the world. Not rough. Not rushed. Just inevitable.
He slid in beside me, his scent wrapping around me, filling every breath I took. The drive was silent — thick, heavy, suffocating. But it wasn’t the kind of silence that made me want to escape.
It was the kind that made me ache. Made me want to lean into him and forget all the reasons I was supposed to fight.
When we finally pulled up to his penthouse, he didn’t wait for me to move. He unbuckled my seatbelt like he had every right to, like I belonged to him, like my resistance was a minor inconvenience he’d bulldoze through.
Then he lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
I should’ve fought him. I should’ve cursed him out. I should’ve demanded he turn the fuck around.
But wrapped in his heat, breathing him in, listening to the slow steady thud of his heart under my ear… I didn’t.
Because deep down, I knew the truth.
Eason Storm had me. Completely. Utterly. Irrevocably. And I wasn’t going anywhere.