Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2)

“Oh, what a sweet man. I’d like that. Dear? Your friend didn’t look in good shape. You need to get over here.”

I slammed my palm on the hazard lights and floored it. The engine growled, and I swerved around other cars as they honked at me. “Why? What did she look like? Was she hurt?” God, the thought of something happening to her when she should have been with me, safe and sound in my arms.

Yes, my fucking arms, but that was how I felt, and I couldn’t help how my entire being needed her close.

“She was dirty, soaking wet, crying, clutching the poster in her hand. She walked like her feet hurt. Poor thing. She looked like she went through hell.”

My breath hitched, thinking of the worst. What if—I swallowed—what if someone took advantage of her? “Thank you, Ms. Molly. I’ll make sure you get your reward, as stated on the poster.”

“Oh, I don’t care about money, but my kitchen sink stopped working, and my grandson just went out of town—”

“—Say no more, Ms. Molly. I’ll have one of my guys go over first thing.”

“Thank you,” she said, the cheer infectious in her voice. “I’m saving your number in my caller I.D. I need to go. Wheel of fortune is on. Bye now.”

Ms. Molly was a life saver.

The call ended, and my hands gripped the steering wheel as hard as they could, sweating against the leather. It was hot, slippery, and I wanted to be at the house already. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” I hit the steering wheel and slammed on the breaks. Bumper to bumper traffic and it had no chances of moving, not with the big cloud of smoke in the distance. There was an accident. I needed to get to the next intersection and take a right, which was before the accident. “Fuck this shit,” I said, spinning the wheel all the way to the right and inched my way from behind the car in front of me. My truck dipped when my tires hit the grass.

And I bolted again, honking my horn the entire time to let everyone know I was coming. Grass and dirt flung through the air, and a few people had their hands out the window, the universal gesture of ‘What the fuck.’

No one knew that a really special woman needed me right now. Why was it that any other day, the road was fucking clear?

I rode the side of the ditch, leaning to the right from the natural force of gravity and when the road came up, I slowed, spun out of the trench, sending mud at the cars behind me, and finally got to the road, bypassing the traffic and the accident. I had no idea how many laws I just broke or how many people were ticked at me for it.

Stray pieces of grass still flew free from my wheels. I noticed when I glanced in the rearview to double-check there were no cops behind me. It would be my luck to have another thing slow me down.

I could run from them.

That would be a terrible idea. If I was in jail, then Abigail would be all alone, and I refused to have that. She had been alone long enough; that time was over for her. I rolled through a stop sign; a few cars honked at me since I went on their turn.

I hit the curb as I turned into the ‘Stoneridge Estates,’ and the suspension in my truck bounced and jiggled my body all over the place, just like the metal frame of the vehicle. I remembered my blinker of all things, turning left and then an immediate right on my new street.

That was right. My street. As of three hours ago, I was the proud owner of a new home. Jerking the wheel too hard, the truck fishtailed as I pulled into the driveway, and my tires spun over red clay, and an orange cloud of smoke engulfed me and blinded my view of the house for a split second. I knew this house like the back of my hand though and walked through the garage, stepped over a few pieces of equipment, and turned the shiny bronze handle to the newly installed door that led inside.

I stood there, staring into the house, waiting for any sign that she was here. If it wasn’t her, I’d be fucked because I didn’t have my knife on me. I was screwed if Ms. Molly was wrong. Oak floors met my boots, and as I looked around, pride swelled in my chest. Everything was almost done, and I did it for Abigail.

It felt right.

Something that felt so right, there was no way in hell it could be wrong.

Something that good, could never be bad.

“Abigail!” I shouted, unable to keep my feet in one spot any longer. I ran down the hallway, right toward the master bedroom. I knew she would be there because it was the one room in the house she was comfortable with. “Abigail?” I said her name through the closed French doors of the bedroom.

They weren’t closed before.

Sobs on the other side made me burst through, kicking one of the new doors off its hinges. I could fix that; I wasn’t worried about fucking doors when Abigail was on the floor instead of the bed, crying, shivering, and hugging her knees to her chest.

I dropped next to her and picked her up in my arms. “Baby, you’re okay. I got you. You’re safe here.” I kissed the top of her head, and her bones shook from the cold and her damp clothes. She cried so hard she couldn’t speak. Abigail clutched onto the front of my shirt and buried her face in my chest. That was alright. She could use me for anything she wanted. I’d be here. “Come on, baby. We need to get you out of these clothes. I bought you new ones. These are soaked. Let’s get you in a warm bath, and then we can talk about it.”

Abigail said nothing.

I scooped her into my arms easily and determined she needed to gain twenty pounds, at least. Her health came first before any of my needs, her well-being, her everything before me. I flipped the light switch in the bathroom and then turned them down a bit, so they weren’t so bright. This was Abigail’s time to calm down and relax.

I sat her on the counter, and she held onto me, clutching my shirt so I couldn’t go anywhere. “I’m only going to turn on the bathtub. Okay? I’m going to fill it full of bubbles. I promise I’m

not going anywhere.”