The Circle Tightens
The hospital lights were dimmed, but I couldn't sleep.
I was propped up on the pillows of the observation bed, my hand still resting over the spot where the technician had found that steady, miraculous heartbeat.
Nick hadn't left my side. He was slumped in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his large hand still anchored to mine, his thumb tracing my knuckles even in his restless sleep.
My mother was on my other side, a silent, fierce sentry.
She hadn't said much since she'd rushed in three hours ago, her face pale and her apron still dusted with flour from the diner.
She'd just climbed onto the edge of the bed and held me, her tears dampening my hair, her hands shaking as she touched my stomach.
Now, she was braiding my hair—a rhythmic, soothing motion from my childhood. But her eyes weren't soft. They were hard as flint, fixed on the door.
When the heavy door finally pushed open, Mom didn't flinch. She just tightened her grip on my braid.
Anthony stepped in. He looked like he'd been through a physical brawl, though there wasn't a scratch on him. It was the adrenaline—it was rolling off him in waves, making the small hospital room feel cramped. He smelled like the mountain air and the metallic tang of the station.
Nick's eyes snapped open the second the floorboards creaked. He didn't stretch; he just sat up, his gaze locking onto Anthony's.
"Is she gone?" Mom's voice was a low, dangerous whip-crack.
Anthony nodded, dragging a hand through his hair.
He looked at me, his expression softening for a split second before the anger returned.
"Chloe's in a cell at the county lockup.
Breaking and entering, trespass, and felony assault on a pregnant woman.
Miller didn't go easy on her. She tried to play the 'misunderstanding' card, but the neighbors saw her kick the door in. "
"And Brandon?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. My heart did a slow, painful thud at the mention of his name.
Anthony's jaw tightened. "He showed up at the station about twenty minutes after they brought her in. He was hysterical, Aubrey. Not for her—for you. He was demanding to know which hospital you were at. He was shouting about 'his child' and how we had no right to keep him away."
Nick's chair screeched against the floor as he stood up. The air in the room suddenly felt electric. "He didn't get near here, did he?"
"No," Anthony said, his voice flat. "I handled it. I told him if he set foot on hospital property, I'd make sure he left in a body bag, badge or no badge. Miller backed me up. He told Brandon to get back to the city before the 'accidents' started happening on the mountain roads."
"He knows," I breathed, closing my eyes. "He's not going to just go away, is he?"
Mom stopped braiding. She leaned forward, her hand cupping my jaw, forcing me to look at her. "He doesn't have a choice, Aubrey. This isn't the city. He can't charm his way out of this one. You saw what she did to you. You saw that girl's face."
"She was... she was so angry, Mom," I whispered, the memory of Chloe standing over me making my skin crawl. "She looked at me like I was a monster for having his baby. She hates me."
"She's a sick woman," Mom snapped. "And he's the one who made her that way.
They're both poison. And as long as I'm breathing, neither of them is stepping foot in our house again.
We're changing the locks tomorrow. Anthony is staying at the house, and Nick.
.." She looked at Nick, her gaze unyielding.
"You're staying with her. I don't care about the neighbors or the gossip.
She isn't being left alone for a single second. "
Nick nodded once, a silent vow. "I was already planning on it."
"He said he was going to sue," Anthony added, his voice low. "He was talking about lawyers, Aubrey. Talking about custody and 'paternal rights' once the baby is born."
The room went cold. The word custody felt like a death sentence. I looked at my stomach, a fresh wave of terror washing over me. The thought of Brandon—the man who let his mistress shove me to the floor—having any right to this child was unthinkable.
"Let him try," Nick growled. He stepped closer to the bed, his presence filling the space, a wall of pure, unmoveable muscle.
"He hasn't been to a single appointment.
He hasn't seen an ultrasound. He hasn't even been in the state.
He can bring every lawyer in the city; they still have to get past us. "
"We're going to get a restraining order," Anthony said, sitting on the foot of the bed. "First thing Monday. Between the assault and the history, we'll make it stick. We're going to bury him in paperwork so deep he won't be able to breathe, let alone sue for anything."
I reached out, grabbing Nick's hand with one side and my mother's with the other. My "circle" was tightening. My brother the protector, my mother the shield, and the man who had become my heart.
I was safe. For now.
But as the monitor beside me continued to beep with the baby's steady, oblivious rhythm, I knew the war for this child had only just begun. Brandon wasn't a man who liked to lose, and he'd just realized he'd thrown away the only thing that mattered.
"Go to sleep, Bree," Anthony murmured, his hand resting on my ankle. "We're right here. The mountain is closed to visitors."
I drifted off to the sound of their low voices, a choir of protective fury that drowned out the echoes of the city. I was fifteen weeks pregnant, bruised and broken, but I wasn't alone and I wasn't afraid.