Claiming the Drakos Heir

“Go ahead and say it.” Popi’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Say what?”

“What you were thinking.”

Had he let something slip? He didn’t think so. “I’m not thinking anything.”

“You’re thinking this is all my fault.” Her voice wavered. “You’re thinking I made a mistake staying here. That I should have known better.”

He avoided looking at her. He knew he should disagree with her. He should reassure her that none of this was her fault, but right now he couldn’t.

He didn’t think she’d used her best judgement by staying on the island. He thought she should have been close to the hospital throughout this whole pregnancy. Or maybe she shouldn’t have gotten pregnant at all. Pregnancy was dangerous. It could take away those that loved you the most.

“Go ahead. Say it.” Popi’s voice rose with emotion.

“I don’t have anything to say.” Nothing that would help the situation.

“I just went to the doctor a few days ago.” She blinked away unshed tears. “She said that everything was okay. She said that the baby was doing well. I thought—I thought wrong.” Her shoulders hunched and her head hung low.

“That’s good,” he said, struggling to find something positive to say. “You know, that the doctor said everything is good with the baby.”

Popi went on as though he hadn’t even said anything. “I should have known the backache meant something. I should have known I was going into labor. If I can’t figure out this stuff, how am I going to be a good mother?”

He couldn’t just stand by and let her beat up on herself. Maybe he didn’t agree with all of her choices, but he wasn’t in her shoes. This island is her home. She would feel safe and secure here. That was a feeling he’d never experienced. His father’s mansion had always been like a war zone when Apollo was growing up. And the worst part was he never knew when a verbal bomb would be lobbed in his direction. He banished thoughts of his past. He had to stay focused on the present.

The soup on the table was long forgotten. Apollo was running on autopilot. And his goal was to get them off this storm-ravaged island ASAP.

He reached for his phone. He started to dial for help but then noticed there were no bars. He had zero reception.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked.

Popi grabbed it from the side of her bed and handed it to him. “What’s wrong?”

He checked her phone too. “There’s no cell signal.”

“The storm must have taken out the tower.”

The storm wasn’t letting up. In fact, he’d swear it was getting worse, not better. But he wasn’t about to tell Popi that. All she needed to do now was focus on that baby.

“There has to be another way to contact the mainland.” He was certain of it. Okay. Maybe certain wasn’t the right word. But he was desperate. It seemed reasonable that an island which hosted so many guests would have a backup plan.

“I don’t know.” Popi’s eyes were open wide and her face was pale. “I... I can’t think. The baby. It’s coming.”

A contraction stopped her from speaking. She began panting. He wondered if that was normal or not.

“Can I do anything?”

Right now, all he wanted to do was turn and walk out that door. He didn’t care if it was storming or not. It had to be better than watching Popi’s beautiful face contort in pain. And he didn’t even want to think about what lay ahead.

First, he had to do whatever he could to make her comfortable. He ran to the bedroom and grabbed any lingering throw pillows and blankets from the moving boxes. He propped all of the pillows against the wall and helped her settle back against it.

“What are we going to do?” Popi looked at him like he should have all the answers.

Meanwhile he was a wreck on the inside. He was just making stuff up as he went along and prayed that he was right. All the while reminding himself not to have a meltdown.

“We’re going to get you off this island and to the mainland, where there will be help. Don’t worry.” Yeah, because he was worrying enough for the both of them. “This is all going to be okay. You and the baby will be fine.”