I’ll go home, break the news to Colton, and then we can make a plan. I’ll start going through my options and maybe look into the whole adoption thing a little more. Jaren insists that it was the best decision he ever made. Could it be the same for me?
Fuck. This is too mu—
A flutter in my lower abdomen has every thought dissolving from my mind. What the fuck was that? My eyes drop to my stomach, along with my hands. I’ve experienced butterflies in my tummy before and it sure as hell wasn’t that. Was it the baby? Was that what it feels like when it moves? Did I just feel my child?
The tears stream faster down my face, dropping onto my hands that rest against my hardening stomach.
My child.
Am I seriously considering giving up a piece of me? This is too overwhelming. I’ve never felt so lost and confused in my life. Am I a bad person for wanting to give up my baby? Does that make me a monster? What if I regret it in years to come. What if the kid comes looking for me, demanding answers. What am I supposed to say then?
I swallow back the lump in my throat, maniacally wiping at the tears that just keep coming back. How am I going to break this to Colton? Every day, I see the hope growing in his eyes. I see the way he’s planning for our future, planning on being this child’s father, but I can’t do that to him. I can’t dump this child on him knowing it’s not his.
Fuck.
I hate this. I fucking hate this so bad. It hurts.
My chest tightens, and I force myself to keep breathing despite wishing I could just end it all. I’m too young for this, too inexperienced to be making these kinds of decisions. I just need someone to come and tell me what to do, someone to make it all right again.
I could always contact Jude’s parents and offer it up to them, but … no. That doesn’t seem right, that seems like the worst possible option. They’re horrid people and wouldn’t give this baby a good life, but what better could I do?
Shit. Someone, please make it stop.
Thirty minutes quickly turns into an hour, and when my phone starts going nuts on the passenger seat, I realize that I can't waste any more time. I have to get home and deal with it. I just need to be in Colton’s arms, where he can tell me that it’s all going to be okay.
I fold up the tear-drenched papers and lean over to the passenger side before shoving them into my bag. As I straighten up and reach out of the car, ready to close the door, a black bag is violently shoved down over my face.
I scream out, grabbing the black material and desperately trying to pull it off. I feel hands at my body. My seatbelt is unbuckled, and then people are pulling at me. I fight and claw against the hands on my body, screaming for someone to come and help me as I hear the scuffle of feet on the pavement beside the open car door.
A hand covers my mouth between my face and the material, desperately trying to muffle my cries. I bite down, getting a mouthful of the material, and the hand pulls away. I take the opportunity to yank up the material, ready to run for my fucking life, but the hand reaches around my face, which is when I see it.
A fucking tattoo on the guy’s wrist of a black widow spider.
Nic. It’s not his exact tattoo. This is someone else, but it’s his doing.
The hands sure as hell don’t belong to him, I’d recognize them anywhere. He sent his fucking henchmen to come and grab me off the street. He’s a real big fucking man to do that. The boys are going to be pissed when thy hear about this.
I barely have a second to fight back before the material is pulled back over my face and the hands finally get hold of me. I try screaming again as my body is pulled out of the Audi, fighting against the men who hold me off the ground.
I hear the distinct sound of a van door sliding open. Immediately, I’m thrown into the back of the vehicle, my ribs slamming against the hard metal floor as my back crashes against the side.
The door slams shut with a loud thump, and two seconds later, someone comes in after me. My hands are bound behind my back, and my whole body is thrown off balance when the van takes off, screeching through the streets of Bellevue Springs.Chapter 32Disorientation swirls through me as a rusty smell fills the cold room. I think it’s large, like some kind of warehouse. Judging by the way each footstep that comes toward me seems to bounce off every wall, it seems so much worse. My guess is that this place is empty, which means that it serves for one purpose and one purpose only.