Merciless (Alexandria Novels 2)

“Nothing is eating me.”

He smiled, knowing it was more effective than ranting, which was all he wanted to do right now. “I know you, Eva. I know when you are worried or tired or happy or sad. I know you. What’s eating you?”

She tried to move past him, but he stopped her.

“Did you get any more letters from that lunatic in prison?”

The killer that had stalked her and nearly claimed her life last year had recently been sentenced to three life sentences. From the moment the judge had rendered his guilty verdict, the killer sent notes to Eva. Nothing had been outwardly threatening. In fact it had all seemed innocent. Please, please forgive me. I’m sorry.

At first she’d not told him about the notes because she’d not wanted to upset him. But when the last note had arrived, he’d happened to be present.

He’d watched the color drain from her face and watched her hands tremble. He’d read the note and immediately called the Department of Corrections. They’d agreed to suspend delivery.

“Do you swear there have been no other notes?”

“Yes.”

And then came the question that had gnawed at him at two a.m. “Is it another guy?” He’d always worried that when she really found her power and saw her potential she’d leave him. He was, after all, associated with a dark past that any sane person would flee.

Shock blazed in her gaze. “No.”

The bands of tension around his chest eased a fraction. “What is it, Eva?” He released her, stepped back, and ran a hand over his short hair. “What the hell is it?”

The edge of desperation in his voice triggered a well of tears in her eyes. One tear fell down her cheek, and she brushed it away. “I’ve messed things up.”

Oddly, hope flickered. She seemed ready to open up. He could slay dragons for her, but he had to know what those dragons were first. “What could you have messed up?”

“I’d never planned to do this.”

“I can see that.” The edge in his voice softened.

She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and faced him. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Honey, that’s not possible.”

“It is very possible.” Color flooded her cheeks.

He frowned. “We were very careful, Eva.”

His sister had died of cystic fibrosis, a genetic disease. The illness had viciously attacked his sister over her short lifetime. He’d remembered all the pain and suffering and had sworn he’d never put a kid of his own through that kind of life.

“That’s why I waited so long to go to the doctor. I figured it was the flu.” She shoved out a sigh. “And when he told me I was expecting I made him run the test a second time.”

“You’re sure you’re pregnant?”

“I told you, the doctor ran the test twice. And there was that one time a few months ago when we weren’t so careful.”

Garrison rubbed his hand over his jaw. She was right. There had been that one night when they’d been so excited to see each other. They’d not thought it all through.

Shit.

“Eva, I should not have biological children. The risk is too high for CF.” Silence hovered between them.

“I’m not getting rid of it,” she said. “I’m not.”

“You’ve never seen what the disease can really do.”

She shook her head. “I’m not giving this baby up.”

A myriad of disaster scenarios pummeled his brain. He thought about the endless hospitals and tests and medicines his sister had endured. And then through the darkness the image of Eva holding his child flashed, bright and clear.

Emotion choked his voice. “Eva.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been online and done a good bit of reading. There’s a twenty-five percent chance the baby will be sick. Seventy-five percent chance it’ll be fine. Either way, I’ll figure it out.”

He closed the distance between them and laid his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

Another tear trickled down her cheek. “It won’t be the first time.”

Her shoulders felt small and fragile under his hands. He knew her well enough to know that she would keep the baby. God help her if this child was sick. Her life would be an endless stream of doctors.

Garrison didn’t want to bring a sick kid into the world. He didn’t want to remember the smell of the pe-diatric wing of the hospital or see the painfully cheerful wallpaper that decorated the rooms. He didn’t want to worry about pills or ventilators.

He didn’t want any of it.

But he’d deal.

“We’re getting married,” he said, his voice gruff.

“What?”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you for months but didn’t because it’s not fair to you.”

More tears welled in her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. She held him tight and for the first time in days let go of her grip on the tension.

He kissed her on the forehead. “We can get married in a few days.”

“There’s no real rush. The baby’s not due for seven months.”

Baby. Due. Seven months. Shit.

His hand slid to her belly. He’d hoped to feel a flicker of movement, but there was nothing. “You’re really sure?”

“Yes.” She pulled a thread from his jacket. “I know the timing sucks.”

Garrison and Eva were going to have a baby.

The idea quickly took root and overtook every sense in his body. A protective urge welled inside of him. “Mom’s going to be thrilled.”

“She’ll be worried like you.”

“She’s more optimistic than me. She won’t borrow trouble. She’ll be too excited.”

“I told Angie.”

“And?”

“She was excited. Told me to tell you.”

He grunted. “Points for her.”

“The timing was a bit serendipitous.”

“How so?”

“She hired a detective to find my father.”

He frowned. “And?”

“She did find him, or at least information on him. And you’ll never guess who he knew back in the day.”

After Angie dumped way too much personal information on Kier, she felt foolish and embarrassed, so she’d paid for their dinner, despite his protests, and spouted excuses about work and deadlines. She left King’s without waiting to hear what had happened between Eva and Garrison, figuring they were still talking so that had to be a good sign.

It made sense to return to the office. Work always waited for her. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of staring at legal briefs for the next few hours. Too much restless energy hummed in her body. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight.

She drove, not sure where she’d go. The gym was closed. It wasn’t like she had a huge number of friends. She worked, worked out, and spent time with her sister. Her life had become fairly limited in the last few years— a fact she could ignore until quiet, in-between moments like this.

She kept driving until she’d ventured into the lower-middle-class neighborhood of Vivian Sweet. She’d memorized the address after they’d spoken in court.

It was past eight and not the best time to pay a visit. And yet she slowed in front of Vivian’s address. A light was on in the front room, and though shades where drawn, she could see a shadowed figure pass in front.

Angie parked and got out of the car. She rang the front bell.

Footsteps moved to the door, and from the other side Vivian said, “Who is it?”

“It’sAngie Carlson. From the courtroom the other day.”

Chains scraped across locks, and the door opened. Vivian stood in the doorway, with a sleepy David laying his head on her shoulder. His eyes were half open, his thumb in his mouth, but he looked as if he fought sleep like it were a deadly sin.

Vivian’s face reflected her confusion. “Ms. Carls

on?”

Angie curled and uncurled her fingers wishing she had pockets or something to hold. Rarely did she scramble for words as she did now. “I was driving around. I thought I’d stop and see if you’d heard from Lulu.”

The baby roused at the sound of her voice. He raised his head and looked at Angie, presenting her with a sloppy grin. Something tightened and twisted inside of her as she stared at the boy.

“No, I haven’t heard from her,” Vivian said. “If you got a minute, would you mind coming in?”

“Sure.”

Vivian moved aside, holding the door open for Angie. The woman’s pale, frail arm stretched out from the cuff of her housecoat. Blue veins skimmed just under the surface of her skin. “Have a seat.”

Angie glanced toward a couch covered with a faded flowered slipcover. On the far end was a pile of neatly folded baby clothes. She perched on the edge closest to the chair where Vivian took her seat.

David was now fully awake and staring at Angie with bold curiosity. Clearly the last thing on the boy’s mind now was sleep.