Indefinite (Salvation #6)(65)

In about a month, we should find out if it’s a boy or a girl, and then, god help my credit card, Ashton and I can start to plan more.

I want to convince her to move to Virginia. Our friends are there, and it would be good for us to get a fresh start away from the city.

“Maybe another half hour?”

“Okay, I’m . . . I’m not trying to be a pain, I’m just not feeling right. I tried to take a nap, but I can’t sleep.”

My pulse spikes, but I calm myself immediately. Fear is a mindset. “What doesn’t feel right?” I ask and then turn to look for the subject, but he’s gone.

Fuck.

“I don’t know, I feel weird . . . and I’m probably being overly stupid, but I want you home.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. Give me a few.”

I can almost hear the relief when she says, “Thank you, babe. I’m sure it’s fine. Really, I can wait a bit, just talking to you already made me feel better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll call my mom while I wait.

“I’ll be there soon,” I promise.

I make my way out of the coffee shop and look both ways, scanning the people until I spot the top of what I believe to be his head. I follow, staying two people behind just in case, and then stop when I see him talking to someone—a woman.

I continue on, mainly because this is the way home anyway, and observe. They turn the corner, and I debate what to do. I can follow him and see what the hell he’s doing or go home to Ashton.

That gut feeling that something isn’t normal is telling me this isn’t nothing. People don’t schedule meetings and move them for no reason.

I close my eyes for a split second and turn where he did. I need to follow this through. I won’t be more than ten minutes.

I walk down the road, which isn’t nearly as busy as the street we turned off. There’s a small store and another coffee shop, so I do my best to look uninterested while taking it all in.

My gaze scans, but he’s not around, and then I hear something coming from the parking garage to my right.

I move, staying close to the building as I duck inside and behind a pillar.

“It’s not like that,” the voice of Jackson’s former father-in-law says.

A male voice laughs. “It’s exactly like that. Pay up.”

I move forward a little more, staying as close to the shadows as I can. “I paid you already. I don’t know what else you could want.”

The female speaks this time. “I’m sorry.”

“It was one time, Jennica. One time that I slept with you, and you’re making me pay for it for the rest of my life. My wife has been through enough and I won’t have her hurt.”

Someone is blackmailing them. It’s clear, but for money? That’s nothing to do with Jackson.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I promise I will never contact you again,” Jennica says with a hint of sadness.

It’s clear that Jennica is being used to get to Jackson’s former father-in-law, but why? Either way, it’s nothing to do with Cole. At least there’s some relief there.

The man I’ve been following sighs. “Just, let me be. Don’t come back again. There will be no more money.”

Mistakes that come back to haunt us never really go away.

She goes quiet, and I hear footsteps heading my way. I slink even farther back, moving behind the pillar and off to the side.

He passes me, and a second later, the girl behind him follows. I wait until she rounds the corner, and my phone buzzes.



Ashton: Quinn, come home. Now. Something’s wrong with the baby.





Fuck. No. I have to get the hell out of here and to her.

Moving quickly, I walk toward the exit of the garage, but before I get there, someone taps my shoulder.

I spin fast, instantly regretting that I forgot there was a third person.

Before I can register anything, something slams so hard into my head that everything goes black.





33


Ashton





Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. Tears are coming, and my blood pressure is through the roof. I can taste the adrenaline coursing through me.

I take a few breaths and look back at the couch where there’s a few drops of blood where I was sitting.

Oh, God.

I can’t.

This can’t be happening again. I can’t endure losing another child. Not one that I really want. Not this baby—our baby.

I grab my phone and shoot him a text.



Me: Quinn, I don’t want to scare you, but I need you to come home now. Please call me.





My hands are shaking as I drop the phone. After a few minutes without a response, I start to feel sick. Where is he? He always answers me.

Maybe he’s on the subway. When he resurfaces, he’ll call.

In the meantime, I call Clara. She answers on her personal line, which I only have because I’m a friend.

“Ashton?”

“Clara, something’s wrong. I felt some cramping.”

“That can be perfectly normal,” she tries to reassure me.

“Yes, but now I’m bleeding,” I say the words as fresh tears fill my vision.