Unconscious Hearts, Page 25

  "Babe."

  I close my eyes, hoping they aren't too red, and turn. When I open them and blink up at him, the kiss he wanted is completely forgotten.

  "What the fuck?"

  "That obvious, huh?"

  "That you've been crying? Yeah. Real obvious, Ari. What's wrong? Is it Piper?"

  I shake my head. "Come on. Let's go sit down."

  "I don't want to sit down. What I want is for you to tell me what's got you standing in the closet crying."

  "Please, Thorn. Let's just go sit down."

  "What. The fuck. Is wrong!" he bellows.

  "I'm pregnant!" I yell back, the confession bursting forth sloppily when his agitation just kept growing and my already frazzled thoughts couldn't handle it. I should have taken care, though. I should have dragged him to the damn couch myself and been strong enough to hold back until I did.

  "What did you just say?" He doesn't sound angry--but the lack of any emotion in his tone is scary nonetheless.

  I exhale, long and loud. Thorn is standing so still, I wouldn't be shocked if I could just poke his chest and knock him down. Shock. Ha, funny, that word.

  "You heard me."

  "What did you say?"

  "I know you heard me, honey. But, fine. You need to hear it again? I'm pregnant."

  He walks around me and out of the closet. Silently. Scary silent. I bite back my tears and calm myself down, giving him a second before following. When I enter the bedroom, he isn't there. I check his home office, the library, and both sitting rooms before I finally find him. He's standing next to the pool, out by the grill, just looking off toward the mountains. The bottle of whiskey in his hand, no glass, is a pretty good indication of just how badly this is going.

  "Thorn, honey, please talk to me," I plead.

  "Ask me," he mutters.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Fucking ask me, Ari!" he snaps, spinning and pinning me with his gaze.

  "Ask you what, Thorn?"

  "Ask me why my father is in fucking prison. Ask me what the fuck he did to get sent away for goddamn life!" He finishes bellowing his words, turns, and tosses the whole bottle against the house, shattering it on impact. "Fucking ask!"

  I suck a choppy breath in but keep my resolve strong through my confusion and worry. "Why? Why is he in prison?" I quietly ask, the word so small, but I know packs something scary powerful with its answer.

  Thorn steps close, his eyes wild. "Murder, Ari. He's going to rot in that cell because the man whose blood fills my veins--the blood I'll give that child--was capable of killing his own goddamn son!"

  I jerk back, shock making me reach out blindly for something to steady myself. Thorn, even through his anger, has his hands on me, making sure I'm safe. Just as quickly as his hands landed on me, though, they were gone.

  "I told you. I'm made from shit. Pure evil. A mother who loved her high more than her two boys. A father who was an angry drunk and an even angrier crackhead. She sat there and watched, my brother only five, crying because he was hungry and not once stopped that angry son of a bitch. I tried, but he hit me so hard I couldn't get back up. Just shook my brother. Shook him so hard he never woke up again. That's what made me! That's who I am. How can I give that to an innocent child? How can I be a father who's worth a shit when what made me was capable of taking his own son's life? All my brother did was have the misfortune of being born from that same blood. A child that I made would have that same blood, giving them what evil my parents gave me? What kind of life would they have?"

  "You're wrong."

  "I'm not."

  I angrily wipe my eyes, not making a bit of difference with the number of tears I'm crying. "You're so very wrong." He pinches his lips together, and I'm not even sure he's listening anymore, but I keep going. "You're the most incredible man I've ever met, Thorn Evans. You love me with gentle care. You worry about me unwaveringly. You protect me from any harm that could touch me. You have so much integrity inside that beautiful soul of yours, our child would be nothing short of blessed to get even a fraction of it. They might have made you, but they didn't make you the man you are today. You aren't who they were. You, the man who my heart came alive for, have no idea just how amazing you are. How lucky any child we have would be to call you dad."

  "Ari," he grunts, but I shake my head, tears still rushing down my face.

  "My heart breaks for your brother. My heart breaks for you. But my heart knows what kind of man you truly are. My heart knows that anything that our love made will be the most beautiful child ever created. Inside and out. We didn't plan this. It's just as big of a shock to me. But this child--your child--is a gift I'm so thankful fate has handed me. I love you. God, I do. I love you so much that I know it will break something inside me that will never mend if I have to walk away, but I will if you can't find a way to be okay with the child our love made."

  He doesn't move. Now, he's got nothing left. All the steam just vanishing. He looks like he's carrying the weight of the world now. I close the distance between us, roll on my toes, and kiss his slack mouth.

  "You brought me to life. You gave me beauty. I just didn't realize until I saw that positive test just how magnificent that beauty could get. I love you, honey, but I'm going to go stay with Piper ... stay at my old place. I'll give you space to think about this. To ... to think about what I've said. You take however long you need but know I'll never stop waiting." I press my hand against my flat stomach. "We'll never stop waiting."

  I left Thorn's house last Wednesday, taking nothing but my phone and purse with me. I texted him two days later and asked him if I needed to come and get Dwight and Jim. All he said was no. Since then, nothing. I miss my boys, but the way I missed Thorn was something close to desperately. It grew each day I was without him.

  When I got back to my old house, the one I hadn't even completely moved out of, I triggered the alarm. That was more than I could handle, and I just dropped to my knees crying while Piper silenced the alarm and answered her phone when the monitoring company called to make sure there was no trouble. Following that was a call from Wilder, but I was too lost in my sadness to pay any attention.

  The whole night, she held me while I cried uncontrollably. The tears never stopped. I knew I needed to get it out so I could move on, so I didn't try hard to stop them either. I let myself have that moment of heartache, and the next morning, I didn't allow myself to wallow. I had to find the strength to be there for Thorn when he hopefully made his way back to us. And I had to find a way to be resilient to any pain that may follow, if he never did.

  My life was worth it.

  The child that I loved already was worth it.

  And Thorn was worth it.

  I would fight for all of us.

  The only person who my pregnancy didn't immediately inflict bad news on was Piper. That went a long way in helping me sort myself. It took me two days to be able to tell her what happened. Then we both sat there and cried for what Thorn had endured. It was at the end of the next day that I was able to stop the tears for the second time. It was also that night that I vowed that Thorn wouldn't be lost to us forever. He would come back to us, and I would spend every day loving him and this child so much there would never be a chance for him to ever think he wasn't worthy again. From that day on, there's been no possibility in my mind that this wouldn't work out. I meant what I said; we would wait forever if we had to.

  It's that steadfast resolve that had me walking out of the doctor's a week after leaving his side, sonogram of our miracle in my hand, and feeling happiness for the first time since. I stood outside the well-known obstetrics practice under the warm sun with my hand on the belly that protected what our love made, feeling a sense of calm that everything would work out.

  I had no idea that, at that moment of sheer happiness, I had just put my future in the hands of the devil. I stood there, the sun shining bright while I thought about what our child would look like, with darkness waiting in the wing. Blissfully happy and com
pletely unaware that just hours from now, everything would change forever.

  It was time

  Anger and Rage had been no match for the strength of Fury. Weak, they had been. So pathetically weak.

  They had no clue that Fury had been waiting, hunting ... plotting. Not until the opportunity made itself known, and it was too late.

  When Fury stood in the distance and had enough with the plans the weak had thought clever, something purely sinister pumped through Fury's body, pushing the ominous soul to the forefront.

  The sweltering heat that surrounded Fury while the car idled at a distance from the woman in the sun only amped that vehemence to insurmountable levels, fueling the ire, ensuring that no one could save the woman.

  Anger's plan had been pitiful.

  Rage couldn't do better.

  Even that stupid perky Sorrow had tried to butt in. Attempting to save what Fury thirsted to slice so deep, feel the warm blood as it rained from that woman in the sun's body, ensuring that there would be no chance that the woman in the sun would survive.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  Fury was done waiting.

  Fury had finished the hunt.

  Fury was ready to feel the warm blood soak evil's flesh.

  It was time.

  It was time.

  Regret felt the shift.

  Grief felt the wicked air.

  Sorrow was all that remained in the end. Not feeling, like those that had come before, but seeing for itself what kind of maliciousness was planned for the prey it hunted from the shadows.

  Sorrow had tried to fix the out of control power that Fury had stirred up on the way out of hell. Sorrow had hurried, but still felt Fury's sting because of it. But even making itself vulnerable to the very one it was trying to save hadn't fixed anything.

  There was too much pain.

  Too many memories--the same ones that had kept Regret company for so long would be what brought everything down in the end.

  Everything was out of control. Not just Regret. Oh, it was still there and stronger than ever.

  Sorrow's fists clenched when a malicious grin appeared on Fury's face, and all it took was one glance at the woman in the sun to know just how bad this was.

  Oh, it was indeed time.

  Time to grasp on to that hidden sliver of hope, and for the first time in close to a decade, pray for help.

  That's when Sorrow heard Regret's whispers. Heard each one, remembering the woman in the sun's hand on her flat stomach outside of the doctor's office and knew Regret was right.

  It was Fear, however, that grabbed the phone off the seat and made the call everyone agreed needed to be made--the whole time following two car lengths behind Fury. Sorrow was proud that hindsight had ensured Sorrow knew who to call, stealing the information straight from the one who wanted to harm the woman in the sun.

  "Thorn," the voice answered when the call connected.

  Sorrow tried to answer the man, but it was Despair who rushed forward and did it in the end, giving the man the destination that registered instantly. When the man hung up the phone, everyone prayed that the man on the phone wouldn't be too late.

  For, if he was, it would be too late for everyone.

  And Hope would be lost forever.

  Piper had gone back to work.

  It has been almost three weeks since she had been there last--two weeks since her attack from Matt.

  I told her not to worry about Trend. We would be fine for however long she needed, but she wanted to keep going and get back to her normal. I selfishly wanted her to wait and go back next week so that I wouldn't have to be alone after my doctor's visit. I wanted to share the news of the baby with someone who was just as ecstatic as I was. I had rushed home, completely forgetting that she wasn't there.

  It was a shock to get back and be alone. I wanted to share the news with her, but I knew she wasn't the only one. Only I didn't just want to share the news with Thorn, I needed to desperately. Piper was doing what she could to be excited enough that I wouldn't feel his absence, but I did. How could I not?

  He needed time. It hurt, but I understood. That understanding didn't take away from the fact that I needed him, and no matter what I said, it hurt not to have him. Not just his love, but his acceptance and happiness about our child. I didn't doubt anymore that he might not come back to me, but I still craved him. I just needed to be patient until he figured out his way back.

  I spread out the printed pictures of the tiny little bean inside me on the kitchen island and smiled, recalling the sonogram I had. More specifically, when I heard the baby's heartbeat. I knew that Thorn would feel the same healing powers from that sound as I did when he heard it too. After all, both of our own hearts had been beating through life unconsciously until they collided and the love created when they merged had produced that indescribable little rapid thumping that echoed around me from the child in my belly.

  I did what I had to do, what I knew needed to be done. I asked the tech to hand me my phone and waited long enough to make a recording of that beautiful noise, then sent it to Thorn with one simple message.

  The beauty of us made a perfect love.

  He didn't reply.

  I didn't think he would.

  When my doorbell rang thirty minutes later, hope sprang free, and I rushed to answer. Only, when I pulled the door open, thinking it would be Thorn, I allowed the devil right into my house.

  "What the hell are you doing here?!"

  I jumped and turned to run when I saw the dead eyes that looked at me, knowing that nothing good could come of that. I wasn't fast enough, though.

  Thankfully, the same time that evil wrapped its claws around my neck and squeezed, the only man who could save me had already received a call that not only shocked him to the core, but guaranteed he would move mountains to get to me on time.

  You can't save her now

  "Stop! For the love of God, stop!"

  I hear the voice. I hear the pleading. I can feel the desperation and agony in each one of the words.

  "You're going to kill her!"

  My vision danced with black spots. My lungs burned, desperate for the air that the hands on my neck were keeping from them. My nails clawed and scratched at the hands that were strangling the life from me. The only thing that kept me from submitting to the darkness was knowing my child's life depended on me to fight for both of us.

  I bucked.

  I kicked.

  I fought with everything I had.

  When the hands vanished, I threw myself to the side and rolled away while gasping. It wasn't graceful, my crawl backward on my hands and knees, but I moved quickly, and when I turned, shock held me still when I saw the two people in my house.

  One of them didn't surprise me; after all, I opened the door and let evil right in. It was the other, however, that I couldn't understand. Not after all this time.

  "Why?" I croaked. "Why London!"

  The other--Thomas--moves, but she blocks him, throwing herself in his path.

  "No!" London screams. I wince. "You can't!"

  I look back and forth between them, shocked at what I see. My sister, whom I hadn't seen in years, is only a shell of herself. She doesn't look even remotely close to the vibrant woman she had been when things were perfect in our worlds. She also doesn't look like a woman who was capable of what she had put me through, torturing me through years with calls and texts.

  It was Thomas, though, the man who had looked broken under regret weeks ago, who made me gasp and feel the coldness of dread.

  He wasn't broken anymore.

  He looked absolutely sinister.

  Nothing like that man who had come to see for himself that I wasn't still hiding from the world.

  I don't understand what I'm seeing.

  "You can't save her now." He pushes London away with a lazy swat, and she falls to the floor with a crash. "You can't ever save her."

  My eyes widen and pure fear fills my veins whe
n he pulls a gun from his pants and points it at me.

  "You weren't supposed to leave," he strangely tells me. "I put up with your weak shit for years, wishing you would be what I craved--someone to break. You hid yourself from me, though, didn't you? Made me think you weren't strong enough for what I craved. I see it now. You practically pushed me to your sister. She wasn't timid. She had fire in her. Had. But she doesn't anymore, do you? I waited for fucking years, thinking it would come soon, but you gave it to that disgusting bastard instead? I got a virginal little bitch who only knew how to lay there like a dead bitch while I fucked her. I knew to bide my time, take the one who was ready for me to mold to what I wanted, and then when I finally had you again, I would show you what a real man does. I would ride the innocence from your body, break your soul, and turn you into what I wanted. That cunt," he screams, pointing the gun at London. "That cunt tried to save you. Played me for a fool. She was good with her act, I'll give her that. Gave me what I wanted just to keep me from you! You had no fucking clue what you walked in on that day, did you?"

  I shake my head, tears falling and look from the gun to my sister and back at Thomas. "Thomas, you don't want to do this."

  "All you had to do was wait. I was even willing to let you have a little fun until I was ready to slice her up and take what I wanted with you. I wasn't going to waste her fear, not until I used her up. London fucked that up when her guilt trips kept fucking up. Started trying to find ways to tell you to watch your back. ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS WAIT!"

  "Please. Stop!" London screams, lifting from the floor and charging him.

  He lifts his leg and kicks her hard in the gut. She falls instantly. His words and her text weeks ago making sense now. She had been trying to protect me. My God.

  He steps over her, holding the gun in her face. "Should we play a game, wife? Should we show Paris what she had been too upset to see clearly that day she found us together?"

  "Please don't," she begs, sobbing.

  I go to stand, ready to run while he's distracted, but the second I get halfway up, Thomas is right there. He swings his hand back and cracks it against my face, knocking me back down with the force of his punch.

  "Next time you move, I'll put a bullet right here," he warns, pressing the gun low in my belly. Right where my baby is. I cry harder, no longer able to see a way out of this. "Sit the fuck down and listen."