A Covert Affair (Deadly Ops #5)(40)

She couldn’t stay here. Her mom worked at the diner, then had clients right after. She’d told Amelia she wouldn’t be home. Thank God she didn’t have to worry about her mom bringing men back here anymore. She just did them in their cars or pay-by-the-hour rooms. God knew there were enough crappy motels in the city.

Not that she cared about any of that right now. She knew what was happening and it was her fault. She’d never wanted this, never wanted a baby. For weeks she’d wished it would just go away. Now . . . she was terrified that was exactly what was happening. The baby was dying and it was all her fault. Guilt speared through her, as sharp as the agony in her stomach. She might not have wanted it, but she didn’t want this.

Oh God, this was all her fault. She’d wished it and now it was happening.

She gritted her teeth, thankful that the pain started to abate. Not much, but enough that she could strip off her bloody clothes and call a neighbor for help. She couldn’t call Benita. God no. Nathan’s abuela was a devout Catholic, but not only that, she’d tell Nathan.

Even through the cramping pain, Amelia knew she would never tell him about this. Never, never, never. He was a year ahead of her and almost done with high school, would be joining the Corps soon. She didn’t want him to know about this. Then she’d have to admit she’d wanted it gone, that she’d done this to something they’d created. He’d hate her if he knew the truth.

Naked and on shaky legs, she stumbled down the hallway to find the portable phone. Thank God her mom had a landline. She was too cheap to pay for a cell phone for Amelia, but at least she had a way to call someone.

Something sharp stabbed through her abdomen, and her vision went spotty for a moment, but she found the portable on the kitchen table. Collapsing into a chair, she forced her fingers to work, to make the call.

She hated calling Daniela, but she knew the older girl wouldn’t tell anyone about this. She was kind of a slut but kept her mouth shut about everything. The second the slut thought entered her mind, shame filled Amelia. Who the hell was she to judge anyone?

“Hey, chica, what’s—”

“I need help. Now,” Amelia rasped out.

“Shit, what’s wrong?”

“I need . . . a ride to the free health clinic. I’m bleeding and I can’t drive. Don’t call anyone.”

“Shit,” she repeated, one of her favorite words. “I’ll be right there.” Daniela hung up before Amelia could respond.

Which was just as well because she didn’t have the energy. She knew Daniela would never call the cops even though Amelia had told her she was bleeding. No one in this neighborhood called them unless absolutely necessary.

Struggling, she pushed up again, grimaced at the blood on the damn chair. She was leaving a trail everywhere. She’d worry about cleaning it up later. First, she needed help. Desperately.

“Amelia.” Nathan’s voice was urgent.

Oh God, no. He couldn’t see her like this. Couldn’t know.

“Amelia, wake up.”

Her eyes flew open to meet that familiar, worried espresso gaze. Her heart pounded wildly against her chest, and her breathing was erratic. It took a moment for her surroundings to register. She was in her home. The home she’d bought for herself. Not in that shit hole she’d lived in with her mom as a teenager.

Bits of light streamed in from her blinds, so she knew it was morning without looking at the clock. Not that she wanted to tear her gaze from Nathan’s anyway. She swallowed. “I’m okay.”

He was propped up on a bent elbow, looking down at her, his expression worried. “You were having a nightmare.”

Her throat seized. Now would be a good time for her to be honest with him. Really perfect, actually. But . . . she was selfish. She just wanted a few more hours with him before she confessed everything. “Yeah.” Why bother denying it?

“You want to talk about it?” He cupped her cheek, stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his hold, wanting to savor every second of it. “Not really.” At least not yet. Soon, though, she swore to herself. She should have told him years ago, but she’d been so broken then, so full of loathing and shame. She’d hated herself so deeply, hadn’t been able to even look at herself in the mirror back then.

It was why she’d ended things with him so coldly, so abruptly. He’d been a reminder, and being around him had simply piled on the guilt. She’d known that if she told him the truth he would hate her, blame her. After all, she’d blamed herself; how could he not? God, it had taken her a long time to come to terms with the fact that what had happened wasn’t actually her fault. Now she was just terrified that he’d hate her for not telling him the truth.

He shifted next to her and pulled her close so that she sprawled over his chest. She liked the feel of being completely naked against him. Sex was the last thing on her mind right now, but the skin-to-skin contact grounded her.

When she went to throw her leg across him, cuddling closer, she realized she’d be feeling the effects of their sex for the rest of the day. “Am I the only one who’s sore?” she murmured. Damn it, she wasn’t ready to come clean yet, knew the moment she did this intimacy would be shattered. She simply couldn’t do that yet.

His breath was warm against the top of her head as he wrapped his arm tighter around her. “I was rough last night.”