Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

“Yes.”

“Make sure you keep it with you.”

“Will do.”

“I’m fetching Shona from the airport later. I’ll be late for lunch.”

“Be safe.”

His words are spoken with warmth. “You too, baby doll.”

I don’t say goodbye—I’m superstitious like that—but he doesn’t hang up. He waits for me to end the call. I stare at the phone for another second, guilt and happiness mixing in my chest, before I go inside.

Maita comes to meet me in the waiting room when the receptionist tells her I’m there.

“Cas.” She takes my hands in hers. “What a surprise. What brings you here?”

“Can we talk in private?”

“Of course.”

She leads the way to the consultation room and closes the door. When we’ve both taken a seat, she says, “I hope nothing is wrong. Are you coming down with something?”

Fiddling with the strap of my bag, I say, “I need a pregnancy test.”

Her eyes grow large. “How late are you?”

“Only a few days, so it’s probably nothing, but I prefer to have the reassurance.”

“Yes.” She gives me a concerned look. “Sure. Wait here.” She pushes to her feet. “I’ll go get you one.”

“Thanks,” I say meekly as she leaves the room.

I twist my hands together while I wait. A week is nothing. I’ve been late before. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m worrying about nothing, but I’ll sleep easier if I know for sure.

Maita returns with a white box and hands it to me. “Would you like to do it here at the clinic?”

“If you don’t mind.” If it’s nothing, I don’t want the staff or Ian to accidently catch a glimpse of the box in the trash.

Her smile is kind. “I’ll show you the bathroom. Do you know how to use the test?”

I’ve never needed to do a pregnancy test, but the instructions are in English. “I’ll figure it out.”

She steers me into the bathroom and checks under the two toilet stalls to make sure we’re alone before she tells me to pee on the stick and wait a few minutes for the result to appear.

Taking the box, I go into the first stall and lock the door. Despite being certain I’m overreacting, my hands tremble as I unwrap the plastic. I’m clumsy. The strap of my handbag slips from my shoulder and my bag falls on the floor. I curse as the contents roll out over the tiles, some of them disappearing beneath the gap under the door.

Dammit. I forgot to close the zipper when I put my phone back in my bag after speaking to Ian. I leave the box on the wall shelf, open the door, and scurry around to gather lipstick, make-up, tissues, and chewing gum.

I’ve almost thrown everything back into my bag when a scrunched-up ball of paper catches my eye. I stare at it for a moment, trying to place it before ironing it out with my palms. It’s the printout of the men who robbed the bank in Rustenburg. It takes me by surprise, but then I remember. Wolfe showed it to me when he accused Ian’s gang of the crime. In the state I was in, I crumpled it in my hand and later, outside, dropped it in my bag without thinking.

I study the three men in their Phantom masks. They’re the same height as Ian, Ruben, and Leon. With the haircaps, masks, gloves, and Phantom sport suits, it’s impossible to tell who they are. Squinting, I look closely at the shotgun the man in the front carries. The model is available everywhere. With a license, it can be bought from any gun shop. It’s even easier to acquire on the black market. The other two men carry automatic rifles. There’s nothing discerning about their weapons either.

Folding the printout, I dump it with the rest of the stuff in my bag and go back to the toilet. This time, I make sure my bag is closed before hanging the strap on the hook behind the door. I remove the stick from the package, get ready, and do my business. My pulse pounds in my temples when I recap the stick. Leaving it on a paper towel on the vanity, I wash my hands and wait. After three minutes, I pull off the cap, expecting to see the single blue line.

My heart almost stops.

Two lines. Positive.

I’m pregnant.

It can’t be. It only happened once and with a broken condom no less. It’s not even as if Ian came inside me. I’m battling to digest what’s in front of me. I’m in denial even if I’m staring at the proof. With our kind of connection and chemistry, I should’ve anticipated this. Fate has dealt us a strong card. Nothing that happens between us happens in moderation. It’s as if the universe sent us a blast. Everything is magnified.

Blinking, I look and look at the lines.

I’m going to have Ian’s baby. A mixture of shock and joy swells in my chest. Sweat breaks out over my body when I think of the consequences. Can we raise a child in our world? Will Ian be happy or angry? Will he be excited or disappointed? Whatever the case, I know without a doubt he’ll stand by me, no matter what.