Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(54)

I study her bag on the floor. She doesn’t have her clothes in there, so what could she possibly be doing?

As much as I want to bang on the door and check on her, I resolve not to scare her away with my incessant badgering. It was bad enough that I couldn’t leave her alone about the eggs. If I’m not smart, I could easily push her away by loving her too much.

I drop back to the bed and scroll through my phone, returning text messages and checking email.

After several minutes, the bathroom door swings open and Axelle comes out. She’s clutching her towel at her chest so tightly her knuckles are strained, and her hair is wet and un-brushed with a few strands around her face already air dry. She stares at me blankly, and it’s then I notice how pale she is. And she’s shivering.

I launch off the bed and cup her face. “Shit, you’re freezing.” I run my hands over her shoulders and down her arms; her skin is like ice beneath my touch. “What the f*ck is going on?” I vacillate between covering her with my body to keep her warm and standing back to run my hands over every inch of her, checking for injury. Her teeth chatter as I walk her to the bed. I pull the comforter back, crawl under it, and toss her wet towel aside before pulling her to my chest. She burrows into me, absorbing my warmth, and I tuck the blankets in tight around us.

She’s so cold her skin burns against mine.

“Talk to me, Ax.” She trembles with full body shivers, and I rub her back, trying to get her to calm down. “Breathe, baby.”

She takes long full breaths, and slowly her shivering fades. Her body warms enough that her muscles relax, but only minutely.

“Axelle, I’m not gonna lie. I’m freakin’ out here.” I speak against the top of her head. “What happened?”

She sniffs and her shoulders jump in my arms.

She’s crying.

Fuck!

This is the strongest woman I know. I’ve been to hell with her several times and rarely seen her cry. Whatever happened between the time she went into that bathroom ’til now is big enough to bring her to her emotional knees.

And the selfish part of me is praying to God this has nothing to do with me.

“Shh…it’s okay. Whatever this is, it’ll be okay.”

She sobs and shakes her head. “No…it…won’t.”

“What happened?” I kiss her head and hold her tighter. “Talk to me, baby.”

She calms and hiccups; the moisture from her tears soak my chest and slide down my ribs to the sheet. “I’m afraid to tell you.”

“No, baby. You never have to be afraid to tell me anything. I love you.”

“That’s why I’m afraid. When I tell you, you won’t love me anymore.”

“Impossible. I’ve loved you for four years. Nothing will change that.” I pull back just enough to see her face, and the sight shreds through me. “What is it?”

She tilts her head back, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m—”

“What?” My stomach plummets at what I think might be coming. Please, God…no. “You’re what, Axelle?” The question comes out harsher than I intend.

She coughs and her face twists with emotion. “Pregnant.”

I’m gone. It’s as if the single word drop-kicked my mind from my body. My arms close in around her, and she bursts into sobs once again. I can hear her, feel her body shaking and the heat of her tears, but inside I’m numb.

Because I’ve taken enough sex-ed classes to know that Axelle’s not pregnant with my baby.

She’s pregnant with Clifford’s.

“I wasn’t paying attention.” She continues to cry. “I was so busy I didn’t…” More tears. “Then I got sick on Valentine’s Day, but I thought it was stress.”

She blabs on and on, and all I can do is hold her tight as if I’m physically holding us together because I’m f*cking dying, thinking these could be the last few moments we’ll have together.

“I need to take a pregnancy test to be sure.”

“What?” Even my own voice sounds like it’s coming from another room.

“I could be wrong.”

“So, you’re saying you might not be pregnant with that sorry son of a bitch’s baby?”

She shrinks away at the anger in my voice, but f*ck it! I’m angry. I go back and forth between my instinct to comfort her and the urge to shake her until her head pops off. What the f*ck did she think would happen? And how could she f*ck that guy without protection? The thought alone makes me f*cking homicidal. I shove my hand through my hair and focus on my breathing.

“I need to take a test to be sure—”

I jerk free of her and make sure she’s covered and tucked in before heading across the room. “Give me ten minutes. We’ll swing by the drugstore on our way to your mom’s.” I slam the bathroom door behind me, not waiting for her reply.

I stare at myself in the mirror and can see the barely contained rage that ripples through my muscles. Wouldn’t that be just my luck that when I finally get everything I ever asked for it all falls to shit.

*





Axelle





We’re five minutes late pulling up to my mom’s house. I grab my backpack, which is not only holding a couple of textbooks, but now a brown paper bag filled with three pregnancy tests. Killian wanted me to get five, but I assured him that three would be enough. Not to mention they’re expensive and cost me my lunch budget for the week.