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

I lived longer on the streets than I thought. My life changed because of this killer forever. He took my life, and I hated that he still affected me, I wanted him dead. I wanted to live again. I wanted to make happy memories. I didn’t want to always look over my shoulder and wonder.

“What does he want with me?” I cried and then spit into the toilet. I ripped toilet paper off the roll and wiped my mouth off, grabbed a new sheet, and dried my tears.

“He always takes entire families. He never leaves one member alive. You put a kink in his perfect system he has in his fucked-up mind,” Cortez said in the doorway of the bathroom. His radio went off, but he ignored it. I guess it had nothing to do with him or the killer, or he would be running out the door.

That actually made me feel better.

“Sorry,” I said and reached for the handle to flush. I told Logan I didn’t want anyone to know we were pregnant until the twelve-week mark. I wanted to be out of the first trimester before people knew. “It’s just upsetting. I’m scared.”

“You have every right to be, but you aren’t alone, okay?”

“How does he know where I live?” I asked.

“Public record. You signed up to get mail, you got your license, everything points to this address.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“I’m going to go patrol the area, okay? Rest knowing you have five cops outside.”

Cortez left, but it still didn’t bring me comfort. How would he feel if he had a serial killer frothing at the mouth for him?

“Is the baby okay? Are you?” Logan asked, lifting me into his strong arms as he walked back into the bedroom and laid me down. “You want a glass of water?”

I nodded and wrapped my hand around my belly. “What if something happens to our baby because of this?” I asked in a shaking voice, staring at a blank space on the wall.

Logan placed a bottle of water on the nightstand and took my hands in his. “I won’t let anything happen to the two of you. That I promise,” he said. “I know that doesn’t mean anything right now because the threat is still out there, but it means something to me. I know that I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Come on, let’s lay down and watch a movie.”

“You want to watch a movie right now?”

“What else is there to do besides being restless?” he asked as he settled against the headboard. He held out his arm, the nook empty and waiting for me. “Come on, let me hold you.”

I gave in, buried my head against his chest, and breathed him in. He smelt like home. I had finally calmed down when lightning lit up the sky again, and the power cut off.

“Logan?” My chest pounded.

“It’s okay, hold on. I’m grabbing a flashlight.” A few seconds later, he had this huge round light out that was battery powered and turned it on. “See? Nothing to worry about. It’s just the storm.” His cell phone rang, cutting through the tension, and he answered, “Hey. What? Just our house?”

My heart dropped to my feet.

“Yeah, of course,” Logan said before hanging up the phone and sliding it into his pocket. “Our house is the only house without power.”

“It’s him. He is here, isn’t he?”

That time Logan had nothing to say to calm me down because he knew that the possibility of the killer being here was likely.

“We are going to the let the cops do their job, but right now, I want us to get into the panic room, okay? We have cameras, back up generators, food, water, blankets, everything we need. Come on,” Logan held out his hand, and I didn’t hesitate. I took it, and he opened the closet door and led us to the back. “It only works for my hand and yours,” he said, placing my palm on the scanner. The door opened, and it looked like a small cubby hole at first. I bent down and crawled inside, only to be shocked when it opened up to a large room.

I had never been inside the panic room before, but wow, he really did want us to be safe.

“I want you here at all times, okay? Snowstorms, hurricanes, tornadoes—”

“We don’t really get hurricanes,” I said, sitting in the bean-bag chair as I stared at the ten monitors on the desk. “Or tornadoes.”

“But we get snow and serial killers, so I always want you here, okay?” Logan sat by the door, looking like he was ready to leave.