34. Marla
MARLA
Several days have passed since Alex dropped that bomb about my foster care records being breached, and the cottage has settled into a strange, crowded rhythm. The men rotate between handling business and staying here with me. Someone is always present. Always watching. And always armed.
I should feel suffocated, but instead I feel oddly grounded by their constant presence.
Why would anyone be looking at my foster records?
Is it Zach? And if so, what possible purpose could he have for getting them?
There's nothing to see, really. Except the sad fact that I was passed from home to home, never staying long enough to make any attachments.
My thoughts switch to another worrisome development.
My period is late. I've been trying not to think about it.
Stress can delay things, right? Being trapped in a cottage with three dangerous men while your psychotic ex-boyfriend hunts you down through his corrupt politician father is definitely stressful. That has to be the explanation.
It has to be. The alternative is... I shake my head. I won't even think about it right now.
I'm sitting at the kitchen table pretending to work on an article when I hear the crunch of tires on gravel. My stomach immediately tightens, but Russ glances out the window and relaxes.
"It's Sharon," he says.
Relief floods through me so fast I nearly sag in my chair. Sharon texted earlier saying she'd bring groceries since I can't exactly leave the cottage to shop for myself. I also secretly asked her to pick up a pregnancy test. Just the thought sends a wave of nausea rolling through me.
Sharon climbs out of her car carrying two paper bags. Nick opens the door before she can knock, his expression unreadable as always. She smiles nervously at him and steps inside.
"Hey," she says, setting the bags on the counter. "I got everything on your list."
"Thank you," I say, standing quickly. Too quickly. Russ notices and frowns slightly.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Fine. Just need to stretch my legs."
Sharon catches my eye and gives the smallest nod. The pharmacy bag is hidden inside one of the grocery bags. My heart starts pounding harder.
"I'm going to check the fence line," Russ announces, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair. "There's some weak points I want to fix."
"Good," Nick says. "Alex and I need to go over the security reports anyway."
Russ heads outside, and I watch through the window as he walks toward the treeline, his broad shoulders tense even from this distance. I wonder if there are any issues with the fence or if he’s getting cabin fever like the rest of us and is just looking for a way to burn off some excess energy.
Nick and Alex settle at the kitchen table with Sharon standing awkwardly between them. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable being interrogated by two pakhans in a secluded cottage.
"Any updates from the Ivory Wolf?" Nick asks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Sharon nods. "Zach's been back. Three times this week." She shoots me a sympathetic look.
Alex's expression darkens. "Go on?"
Sharon glances at me again, worry clear on her face. "He's been talking to different staff members, trying to figure out where Marla lives. He offered one of the bartenders five hundred dollars for information."
"Did anyone take it?" Nick's voice is dangerously quiet.
"No. Except for the times she met..." Sharon pauses and then shrugs.
"... you guys, she hasn't been to the club, so most of the employees don't even know who she is.
" Sharon wraps her arms around herself. "But Zach seems really confident.
Like he expects someone will eventually give him what he wants. "
"Arrogant little shit," Alex mutters.
Russ would've exploded by now if he were in here. I can practically hear the cursing and threats that would've followed Sharon's report. But Nick and Alex are colder, more controlled. Somehow that's more frightening.
"He say anything else?" Alex asks.
"Just that he's looking for an old friend who moved out here. He acts like it's innocent." Sharon's voice drops. "He scares me."
"He should," Nick says flatly. "Stay away from him. If he approaches you directly, you walk away and call me immediately."
Sharon nods quickly. "I will."
Alex leans back in his chair, his jaw tight. "Anything else we should know?"
"No. That's everything."
I catch Sharon's eye and tilt my head slightly toward the bedroom. She understands immediately.
"Can I talk to Marla for a minute?" Sharon asks. "Girl stuff."
Alex waves a hand dismissively. "Go ahead."
We slip into the bedroom and I close the door quietly behind us. My hands are shaking as Sharon digs through the grocery bag and pulls out a small pharmacy bag.
"Here," she whispers, handing it to me.
I stare at the bag like it might explode. Inside is a pregnancy test. Two of them, actually, because Sharon is thorough like that.
"Maybe it's just stress," I say, my voice barely audible. "I've been under a lot of stress."
Sharon gives me a look that says she's not buying it. "Marla."
"I'm serious. All the crap I've been going through is enough to mess with anyone's cycle."
Sharon nods, but she doesn't look like she believes it. Neither of us says what we're both thinking. If I'm pregnant, I have no idea which one of them is the father.
Oh God.
"I can't do this," I whisper.
"You have to. You need to know."
She's right. I hate that she's right, but she is. I take the pharmacy bag and head into the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. Sharon follows me inside and locks the door behind us.
The bathroom is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but Sharon squeezes in beside me anyway. I pull out one of the tests and read the instructions even though I already know how they work.
"Do you want me to leave?" Sharon asks quietly.
"No. Stay."
I can't do this alone. I can't stand in this tiny bathroom and wait for results that might completely destroy my life without someone here to keep me from losing my mind.
I take the test and set it on the counter. The instructions say to wait three minutes. Sharon sets a timer on her phone.
"It's going to be negative," I say, pacing the small space. "It has to be negative. I can't be pregnant."
"If you are, we'll figure it out," Sharon says, but her voice is shaking too.
"Figure it out? How do I figure this out? I don't even know which one..." I can't finish the sentence. The reality is too overwhelming.
Sharon bites her lip. "Have you been with all three of them since that first night?"
"Yes."
"At the same time?"
"Sometimes. Other times separately. I don't know, Sharon. It's been chaos."
The timer on her phone feels like it's a ticking bomb, waiting for the right moment to destroy my life. Each second stretches into an eternity. My stomach churns with nausea so fiercely, I have to swallow several times to keep from actually throwing up.
"What if I am?" I whisper. "They're mafia bosses, Sharon! They're not exactly cut out for fatherhood."
"They're also completely obsessed with you," Sharon points out. "I've seen the way they look at you. All three of them."
That doesn't make this better. If anything, it makes it worse. Three men who are already possessive and territorial, finding out I'm carrying a child that could belong to any of them? That's not a solution. That's a disaster waiting to happen.
The timer goes off, the sound so loud in the little bathroom that we both jump. Sharon reaches for the test, her hand trembling as she picks it up. She stares at it for what feels like forever.
"Sharon?" My voice cracks with impatience and fear. "What does it say?"
She looks up at me, her eyes wide. "You're pregnant."