"I don’t care, Tor.” I kiss another scar, watching the water trail down her skin. “I love you." I skim my fingers along her wet sides, slowly making my way around to her stomach. And that’s where I stop. What the fuck? There's a bump underneath my palms. A prominent bump.
When I spin her around to face me, she closes her eyes, like if she doesn't look at me she can hide. My gaze drops to her stomach. "Tor?"
But she doesn't open her eyes. Hot water rains down on us, washing the suds from her hair. She would have told me. She would have absolutely told me… I wrap my fingers around her chin, forcing it up. "Are you fucking pregnant?" I ask, and when she remains silent, I take that as confirmation.
"Tor?" I make an effort not to raise my voice. “How long have you known?"
"A while."
"A whi—'' I can't even breathe right now. Because why the hell wouldn’t she tell me this? "A while? How long is a fucking while, Tor?"
She drops her gaze to the shower floor. "Weeks..." she whispers.
Is she serious right now? I brace my forearms on the wall beside her head, caging her in as I inch my face toward hers. "And just when were you gonna tell me, huh?"
"Eventually."
"Eventually? Tor? Fuck." I am so pissed right now. I want to punch something. But instead, I turn the heat of the water up and close my eyes as the scorching heat pelts down on me. She's been running around with guns. She knew this and came with me to get Mussa?
"You can't just…do that. You can't just keep shit like that from me. Why the hell wouldn't you–" I stop mid-sentence, my stomach turning as a possibility I don't even want to acknowledge creeps into my head. It may not even be mine. If it's Tom's... I can't bring myself to ask the question. I drop my chin to my chest, my palms groaning as they slide down the slick shower walls before I slam my fist into the wall, cracking the tile.
Tor flinches away from me, and I instantly feel guilty. "I'm sorry." I reach out to touch her but stop. "Is it..." I swallow around the lump in my throat. I don’t want to ask the next question. It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything, but I have to know. "Is it his?"
"No.”
Victoria
I don't know what to say to him. At first I just needed to come to terms with it. But with every going on, I guess there was never a right time. But I had every intention of telling him. This is not how I wanted him to find out.
Water rains down on me. "I can't do this with you right now,” I go to reach for the shower, and he stops me.
"You can't ignore this, you know?" Beneath the anger, I can see the hurt and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt Jude. My chest tightens. I should have trusted him with it.
"You haven’t even been to a doctor, have you? You need to go to a damn doctor."
I shake my head. "No, I'm fine."
He pulls me beneath the spray, closer to his wet body. "I wasn't asking, Tor."
I rip my arm from his grip. "I don't need a doctor, and I'm not going to be bullied into going to see one."
"You will go to the doctor, Tor. And you can't go running around with a gun."
I roll my eyes. "Because you know so much about pregnancy and what's right."
"From now on, you’re gonna do what I tell you to. You're gonna eat, you're gonna sleep, and…” His gaze drops to my stomach. “Whatever else babies need."
Not like I shouldn’t have expected him to go all neanderthal. I step around him and open the shower door.
"I mean it, Tor. This changes everything," he says as I grab a towel and dry myself.
He steps out behind her. “I should have known something was going on the way you lost your shit over the head in the freezer this morning."
I tuck the towel beneath my arms and glare at the asshole. "It is not unreasonable not to want a head in the freezer,” I say on the way out of the bathroom.
I dress and grab Caleb’s nine millimeter, the weight of the cool metal grounding me the same way it always does. He doesn’t want me to shoot guns, he can fuck off.
I leave the bedroom and stalk down the stairs, into the kitchen. Marney glances at me as I pass by the breakfast bar. He peeks over the edge of his paper, and his eyes flick down to my stomach. I'm wearing a tight tank, because well, what does it matter now? The way they're all acting, you would think I'm the size of a whale.