The realization that I’m pregnant stirs something inside me. A strange protective instinct that I didn’t know I was capable of. I’m going to have a child?
I can picture it all in a flash. A little one running around, a bundle of joy to love and hold and spoil. The sound of laughter, a string of firsts: steps, words, birthdays…
I don’t have very much time to revel in my daydreams, however, because shouting can be heard somewhere down the hall. It sounds like there’s a huge crowd of people trying to get in, not because they’re patients, but because they’re trying to get a picture. I’ve heard these cries before, of ‘turn this way’ and ‘one more please’ and ‘look right here’ that follow Hunter wherever he goes.
“What’s going on?” the doctor grumbles. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment to discuss your options, alright?”
I nod slowly, though something deep down tells me I already know what my decision is.
This baby is mine to protect.
And I need to tell Hunter right away.
My personal items have been gathered on the moveable hospital table. I’m just about to reach for my phone when a man steps through. At first, I think it’s the doctor, but then I get a good look at his face.
Jack Walton.
“Well, well, well,” he says, sounding far too casual and sweet for my liking. “How are you feeling, Ms. Spencer?”
“Who let you back here?” I demand, caught between terrified and furious. This guy gives me the creeps, and after everything I’ve managed to learn about the man from Dad, Annabeth, and Hunter, Jack Walton is lucky I don’t punch him square in the nose for invading my personal space.
He shrugs casually, staying near the foot of the bed. “I told the nurse I was your father,” he says, smirking. Walton’s got his phone out, scrolling with an air of nonchalance that seriously pisses me off. “It’s all over the news, Ms. Spencer. I just wanted to see how you’re feeling.”
I frown, gripping the thin hospital bed blanket that’s draped over my lap. “What’sall over the news?”
Jack Walton holds the phone out to show me a flashy news article. There’s a picture attached of Hunter carrying me backstage ofEntertainment Weeklyto a waiting ambulance. Walton chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “I knew there was something special about you the moment I laid eyes on you at my party. You’ve got that poor bastard wrapped around your finger.”
“There’s nothing going on between us,” I state firmly. “Hunter’s just my boss and an old family friend.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“You’re turning out to be an amazing actress, Ms. Spencer. Just like your dear mother.”
My nostrils flare. All I see is red. “You hurt her,” I rasp. “She told me everything. About how you showed up and…” I can barely get the words out. “You’re a fucking monster. If it hadn’t been for Hunter coming to save her—”
“Save her?” Walton clucks. “Ah, I see. You think he’s a knight in shining armor. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“You’re full of shit,” I seethe. “Get the hell out before I call security. You’re lucky I don’t kick you in the balls for what you did.”
“I like your fire, kid. In another life, I would have hired you to be my attack dog. I’ve never been able to find anyone quite like Hunter, but I suppose I could train you to be just as brutal as he was.”
“The fuck are you talking about?”
There’s a nasty glint in his dark eyes. “He never told you?”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No. No, there’s no way.”
“How much do you really know about him, hm? Let me guess. You’ve been too distracted by his power, his money, his attention to bother asking him about himself.”
“I know who he is. Hunter’s a good man. A hard-working pioneer in his industry.”
“And before he found success? How do you think he paid his bills? Working for me, that’s how.”
I summon what little strength I’m able to muster and get out of bed. I stand my ground, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing how truly terrified I am.
“I don’t believe you,” I tell him. My traitorous voice comes out as a whisper.