Bad Seed

It was then that I realized I didn't have any cash on me. Declan kept all the money, mainly because I didn't need any since I never left the room. I had my wallet on me, and I knew I still had a few dollars in my checking account – probably just enough to cover the cost of the tests – so I pulled out my debit card.

“Hoping to give the little guy a sibling, huh?” he remarked as he rang up the pregnancy tests.

When he saw that I wasn't smiling nor happy about the idea of having a second baby, a sheepish look spread across his face and color flared in his cheeks.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said. “I should probably learn to keep my mouth shut.”

“It's okay,” I muttered. “You didn't know. Not your fault.”

He put them in a bag for me and slid it across the counter. I swiped my card, took the receipt the kid handed me, and we were out the door as quickly as possible.

As we stepped into the afternoon sunshine, I glanced around the parking lot of the store, saw that it was mostly empty, except for few older women and an elderly couple, so I booked it across. I hustled down the sidewalk as quickly as I could, and I didn't stop until I got to the hotel room, suddenly feeling the need to just get back inside. As much as I'd wanted to see the sun and breathe a little fresh air, now I just wanted the results of the test – and hide away from the awkwardness of that whole encounter with the cashier.

The test was the priority though. I needed to know. Then I could make a decision about what we were going to do. I put Jack down for a nap, and then went into the bathroom. I tore open the packaging, pulled out the little booklet and read the directions several times over before attempting the test. The wait to get the results was excruciating. It was the longest few minutes of my entire life.

I paced the small bathroom, my arms folded over my chest, my stomach hurting from the ungodly amount of stress that was pressing down on me. I prayed to whoever was listening that the test turn out to be negative. Sure, I wanted kids – someday. But certainly not now. Not while we were on the run from the Irish mafia. Not with a man who wasn't even sure he wanted the kid he already had. He was a good father to Jack, but I could see that he worried so much.

I knew he felt unworthy and not up to the job. Felt like he was going to do Jack a disservice by trying to raise him. I knew Declan felt like he'd get a better shake in life if he had a better father. A better role model for him to pattern himself after.

I was starting to care about Declan – I didn't want to cause him any more problems than I already had. Because of me, he was struggling to even support himself and his kid. He lost everything when he upped and left Chicago, left his family behind – all because of me. If I were pregnant, well, he'd have even more to worry about heaped onto his plate and I couldn't imagine him handling it all that well.

After enough time had passed, my stomach roiling with nerves, I picked up the stick and stared at it. I looked at the directions again, trying to decipher if I wanted one line or two. It was hard to make out. As I stared at it, the image became clear, and it obviously didn't matter to the gods what I wanted. I leaned against the wall, crumpling against it and sliding down until I was sitting on the floor, pregnancy test in my hand.

It was positive.

I was pregnant.

~ooo000ooo~

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there. Hours maybe. But, I'd stayed there, in the room, sitting on the bed with my knees drawn up and pressed to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. My head rested on my knees and I tried to stave off the dark, ominous feelings that washed over me, threatened to pull me under.

I waited for Declan to come home, knowing that we'd need to talk. That we'd need to figure out what we were going to do. I happened to glance at the clock, saw that it was almost time for him to be getting back, when there was a knock on the door. My stomach lurched, and I fought back a wave of nausea as I thought about the conversation we were about to have.

“Lose your key again, baby?” I chuckled, trying to sound like everything was normal.

I climbed off the bed and walked over to the door. Without even thinking, I turned the deadbolt then turned the knob. The door was already partially open when I realized my mistake.

I stared into a pair of deep blue eyes. But, it wasn't Declan staring back at me.

It was Rory.

I tried to slam the door in his face, but he was stronger than me and caught it before I could get it closed. He slammed his shoulder into it, knocking me backward hard. I stumbled backward, landing on my butt on the floor as the door flew inward, crashing against the wall behind it. I quickly jumped to my feet, but he pushed me down to the floor again, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Surprised to see me?” he asked, a creepy little smirk on his face.

Rory looked me up and down, appraising me. He licked his lips and I could see the naked desire

in his eyes. If he'd had his way, he probably would have torn my clothes off and fucked me right there – right before he killed me. Thankfully, I knew it wasn't his decision to make and I didn't think Killian would let him do that to me.

I slowly got to my feet again, and this time, Rory let me. He took a few steps forward and I retreated until I felt my back bump up against the wall behind me. I swallowed hard, my body quivering with fear.

“How'd you find me?” I asked, pressed up against the wall.

I was hoping to keep him talking, to hopefully delay things until Declan got home. Or, at the very least, I hoped that maybe someone would walk by, see what was happening – see how terrified I was – and call for help. Anything. I was praying for a miracle or anything at that point.

Jack was asleep in his crib still, and from where we were standing, Rory couldn't see him. The bed blocked him from view. Please let him stay asleep, I thought to myself. If I had to be taken, at least leave the baby. Leave him for Declan. Maybe Declan would figure out what happened and just take off with his son and find a new life. That was my hope.

“Easy. We've been tracking your debit card purchases,” he said. “Lucky for us, you used your card today. Not so lucky for you, I guess.”