Heather

 

The closer I got to the compound, the more worries about Caleb began to creep back into my head. Killian had given me a brief reprieve, but there were a lot of things to worry about now. I had to be careful no one found out about the pregnancy until I was ready. I needed to have a solid plan and a way to prove Caleb killed Niall. With Caleb free, there was no guarantee me or my baby would be safe.

 

I pulled the car in next to the house and noticed the lights on downstairs. It wasn’t even dinner yet, so I was surprised that my dad or Caleb was even home. I took a steadying breath; I just had to act casual, relaxed. It wasn’t the first time I’d taken the car out. I could say I wanted to go to the mall or needed some coffee. It didn’t have to be a big deal. If Caleb were home, I’d just say hi, go to my room, and hunker down until Dad got home.

 

I walked through the front door, and had just locked it behind me, when my dad met me in the entryway.

 

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

 

He didn’t respond. His thick body was blocking my pathway to the stairs, and it seemed purposeful. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked the way he did when he was trying to intimidate someone, not when he was at home with his family.

 

“What’s up?” I asked.

 

Just then, Caleb stepped into the room. The small space was crowded with all of our bodies, but they didn’t seem to notice. I took a small step back towards the door, trying to create more room. Had they already discovered I was in Caleb’s room? Was it so obvious?

 

“You got a phone call today,” Dad said, pulling my cell phone out of his pocket.

 

I was confused, as I had my cell phone with me. I patted my back pocket and realized, with horror, that I’d taken the burner phone Killian had given me but left my everyday cell phone behind.

 

“Yeah?” I asked, reaching for the phone, trying to sound casual.

 

Dad pulled it out of my reach. “From your doctor.”

 

I felt my stomach hit the floor. The doctor. I’d had lab work done at the doctor’s, and they were supposed to call today with the results.

 

He opened up my voicemail service and hit play. The doctor’s easy tone sounded tinny in the speaker.

 

“Hello, Heather. This is Dr. Reynolds from The Woman’s Place. I just wanted to call with your lab results. Your pregnancy test came back positive, which I’m sure is no surprise to you.” She laughed and continued on, “We also ran several different blood tests, and you should be able to access those results on the online patient portal. Call if you have any questions. Otherwise, I’ll see you again in a few weeks. Bye.”

 

It didn’t feel physically possible for my heart to beat any faster. I could feel it pulsing in all of my fingertips, at my wrists and elbows, at the hollow spot just below my jaw. It felt like my entire body was shaking to the rhythm of my terror.

 

“I was going to tell you, Dad—”

 

“Don’t lie to me!” he boomed. He threw the phone on the ground and the screen shattered. Glass shards spread out across the floor, and I jumped back, my back hitting the door. “You’ve known for weeks, and you didn’t say anything.”

 

Hot tears burned my eyes and blurred my vision. I stared up at the ceiling to try and keep them in. “Everyone has been so busy. I was just waiting for a good time.”

 

“There is no good time to announce an unplanned pregnancy,” he said, his voice sharp and acidic. “You’re getting an abortion.”

 

“Dad,” I pleaded. I just needed to explain everything to him. If he heard me out, he’d know. “I can’t have an abortion. You have to understand; you adopted me. What if my mom had chosen to have an abortion? What if I’d never been born?”

 

“That’s different,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, like a roll of thunder.

 

“How?” I asked, my voice growing hysterical. “How is it different?”

 

He snapped. His arms flew wide, and he charged at me as if he were going to run me over. “Because you weren’t an O’Donnell baby!”

 

“How…?” I stammered, my body freezing up in shock and terror.

 

“Caleb saw you with him.”

 

I looked at Caleb. I’d almost forgotten he was in the room. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a permanent scowl affixed to his face.

 

“How interesting,” I said, a glare leveled at Caleb, “that Niall ended up dead. Don’t you think that’s interesting, Dad?”

 

“What are you trying to say, Heather?” Dad said, looking from me to Caleb.

 

“He killed him,” I spat. “Caleb killed Niall. He’s a murderer.”

 

I felt myself losing control. The emotions of the day overtaking me, overwhelming my sense.

 

Suddenly, mid-scream, I felt a sharp crack across my face. My head snapped to the side, and I collapsed against the door.

 

“Don’t,” Dad barked out. “Don’t talk about your family that way. You’re defending those O’Donnell boys now? You’re sleeping around and getting pregnant and hanging with the wrong crowd? Not while you’re under my roof.”

 

I didn’t move, afraid that if I did, I’d fall apart. Collapse into a crying, heaving heap on the floor.

 

“You’re getting an abortion, and you’re not going to repeat those lies about your brother again. Do you hear me?”

 

He turned away, and I took my chance. Without thinking, I threw the front door open and sprinted across the yard. I heard him calling after me, but I didn’t stop. I pumped my arms and legs as fast as they would carry me until I was outside the fence, away from the compound, away from my dad and my murderous brother and my stifling house.

 

Eventually, I slowed to a walk, and once I caught my breath, I pulled out the burner phone and called Killian. He answered on the first ring.

 

###

 

The inside of his car smelled like him. Warm like sunshine, rich like dark coffee. I laid back in the seat and stared at the road ahead, watching the lines in the center of the road disappear under the car.

 

Killian reached out and stroked my cheek. “Does it hurt?”

 

I shook my head and lied. “No.”

 

He gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white. “I can’t believe he hit you.”

 

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe it either. In my entire my life, my dad had never laid a hand on me. He didn’t spank me when I was little, he didn’t swat my mouth when I said my first curse word, and he had never slapped me before. Even when I was afraid to tell him about the pregnancy, I’d been most afraid of disappointing him. I’d never once been afraid that he’d lay a hand on me.

 

Now, all of that had changed. Our relationship had irreversibly shifted. Not to mention Caleb. I thought back to the night he’d found me after meeting with Killian. How, for a second, I was touched by his brotherly concern for me. I thought for a moment that maybe telling him about the baby wouldn’t be so bad, that perhaps he’d understand. After all, he only wants the best for me.

 

The idea was laughable now. He may have been concerned for me, but it wasn’t a healthy brotherly concern. It was obsessive, murderous. He wanted to control me. Whether he learned the behavior from Dad or had uncovered it on his own, he was no better than a stalker.

 

How had I ever felt safe in that house? How had I once trusted those two men more than anyone else in my life? How had I not seen that things were out of control? That not letting me move out or go to college or date who I wanted wasn’t normal? I’d been so blind, certain that they had my best interest at heart, that I’d closed the door to my own prison cell with a smile on my face.

 

Well, I thought, not anymore. Not anymore and never again.

 

Killian’s house was warm and inviting. He’d bought a few throw pillows for the couch and had a few essential oil diffusers spread throughout the room.

 

“You’ve decorated.”

 

He smiled. “I bought a few things. I thought I might let you do the rest.”

 

My heart fluttered at the thought of decorating an apartment with Killian. The two of us walking through a store, hand in hand, picking out curtains and cutlery and bath mats… He and I deciding on a nursery theme, picking out a crib and a mobile…

 

Suddenly, the thoughts turned to dust in my mind. They felt impossible. How could I ever have anything that good? How could the mess of my life ever be sorted into any semblance of order again?

 

Killian noticed my darkened expression. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

I tried to smile, waving him away. “I think I just need a shower.”

 

“Sure thing,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the back of the apartment.

 

The bathroom was small but clean. Killian opened a cabinet and pulled out a fluffy towel. Then, he started the water, testing the water temperature with his hand.

 

“All set,” he said. He smiled at me and walked towards the door, but I looped my finger through one of his belt loops.

 

“Do you think maybe you need a shower, too?” I purred.

 

His eyes widened, but then he studied me. “Are you sure that’s what you need right now?”

 

I answered by stepping forward and undoing his pants, sticking my hand down the front of his boxers.

 

He jumped, flinching at my boldness, but then reached behind him to close the bathroom door. Immediately, the air grew steamy. He opened his wallet and pulled out a condom, setting it on the bathroom sink, a wicked look in his eyes. Then, we were on one another.

 

Clothes came off and flew all around the room, littering the floor. This time, there was no slow build-up. He wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed into me while I held onto the towel rack for support. I could feel the muscles in his arms flexing around my body, the sturdiness of his legs holding me up. More than that, I could feel the power of him inside of me, filling me, stretching me.

 

The steam in the air coated our skin, leaving us slick and shiny. I tasted sweat as I kissed his chest, licked his neck, sucked on his earlobe. With every kiss, he seemed to grow more urgent.

 

He held me with one arm as he ripped open the shower curtain and stepped into the water stream. He lowered my feet to the floor and pulled out of me, turning me around.

 

Just as fast, he was back inside me. My hands were pressed to the white tiles, and my entire body rocked with the rhythm of his movements. He pounded away inside of me, his hands grabbing greedily at my hips. Suddenly his movements began to slow. He jerked a few times, and then stopped, leaning against me and breathing heavily.

 

I reached around and grabbed his neck, pulling his mouth to mine, trying to hide my disappointment. I wasn’t disappointed for long. With my hands still pressed against the shower tiles, Killian knelt down, slid between my legs, and sat down on the floor of the tub facing me, his back against the wall.

 

Before I could register what he was doing, his mouth was on me, sucking and pulling and probing. I moaned and leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, my breathing growing heavy.

 

Just as I was beginning to peak, my muscles tensing in anticipation, he pulled away from me.

 

I glared down at him, and he saw the look on my face and laughed. Then, he inserted a finger.

 

I gasped and closed my eyes. I gasped again as he inserted another. And another. He pushed and pulled inside of me as I writhed around him, moans and screams coming out of my mouth in such quick succession that I couldn’t keep track of them. Finally, I peaked. My body shook and trembled until my muscles gave in and I sank to the floor, curled up in his lap.

 

He laughed and kissed my forehead.

 

“Now we’ve officially earned a shower,” he said.

 

I nodded. “Yes, we’re so dirty.”

 

He rolled his eyes at me, a smile on his lips.

 

I’d never actually taken a shower with anyone else before, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable with Killian. He squirted shampoo into his hand and then into mine, and we stared at one another while we massaged it into our hair. We took turns rinsing the soap out in the water stream.

 

While I bent backward, letting the water run through my hair, he trailed kisses up my abdomen and across my chest. I used his body wash, and I liked the idea that I would smell like him. The entire bathroom filled with the woodsy scent, and I breathed in greedy lungfuls.

 

When we finished, he turned off the water and grabbed the towel from the towel rack, wrapping it around my shoulders. As he did, he kissed the back of my neck, and I felt warm. Not just from the water or the steamy shower, but from the inside. It was a glow that started in my heart and burned outward.

 

He gave me a large T-shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear to bed, and I curled into him, my back pressed against his bare chest. Despite everything that had happened all day, the good and the bad, for the moment, I felt perfectly at peace.

 

###

 

Killian

 

When I woke up, it took me a few seconds to realize the bed was shaking. I looked around, my eyes trying to adjust when I saw her. Heather was lying next to me, but she wasn’t asleep. Her entire body was vibrating. Her arms were raising and lowering unnaturally, and her legs were kicking beneath the covers. I reached over and tried to grab her face, but her head was jostling back and forth.

 

A seizure. I’d never seen anyone have a seizure before, but it was clear enough to me what was happening. Her body flopped on the bed, and I felt helpless. I held her face between my hands, tried to stabilize her neck and ensure she didn’t hit her head. I hated that I didn’t know more about her. Was this common? Has she had seizures before? Should I call an ambulance?

 

It went on for a few more seconds, then she stilled. Immediately I checked her pulse; it was fine, but she didn’t wake up. I got out of bed, threw on some pants, and scooped her up.

 

She opened her eyes as we were driving to the emergency room, but she seemed disoriented, fuzzy.

 

“Heather? Heather?” I repeated calmly, trying to rouse her into a conversation.

 

She didn’t answer but just looked out the window, her eyes half-open and glassy. I prayed she was fine.

 

I pulled into the hospital lot and found the closest space to the ER. I ran through the doors carrying Heather, her limbs hanging limply over my arms, her head on my shoulder. The receptionist saw me run in and immediately began directing me down a hallway. I placed Heather on a gurney, and two orderlies wheeled her away.

 

The receptionist needed a lot of information I didn’t have. She kept asking me questions about her medical history, her family’s medical history, any allergies to medication. Every question made me feel more and more useless.

 

“Where is she? Is she alright? I just want to see her.”

 

The receptionist smiled, and I could immediately tell she heard this same thing one hundred times a day. “I know, sir. I just need some information from you.”

 

“I don’t have any more information. I’ve told you everything I know. She is pregnant, and she had a seizure.” I knew I was getting short with her and, if I knew anything about healthcare professionals, getting snippy was no way to get what you wanted. I tried to lower my voice and turn on my charm. “I’m just concerned about her. I don’t have any more information, and I want to make sure she is okay.”

 

Just then a squat nurse with bright red cheeks turned the corner. “Are you Killian?” she asked, her voice monotone.

 

I nodded. “Yes, yes.”

 

“Heather is asking for you.”

 

She was in a small room, barely bigger than a storage closet, and her face looked pale and lifeless compared to her flaming red hair. Still, she looked better than she had before. Her eyes were open, and she was alert. She smiled when I walked in.

 

“Oh my God. How are you?” I asked, rushing to her side and kneeling next to the bed.

 

“I’m fine,” she said, smiling awkwardly.

 

I smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “You did not look fine half an hour ago. Has that ever happened before?”

 

She shook her head. “No, never. But the doctor said it isn’t totally uncommon for seizures to pop up for the first time during pregnancy.”

 

“So, it’s normal?” I asked, my voice dubious.

 

“Not normal, necessarily. But not entirely unheard of.”

 

“Okay,” I said, though it came out more like a question. “So… do they know why it happened?”

 

“The doctor thinks it was stress-related.”

 

“Stress? What stress? Your life isn’t stressful?” I said, feigning confusion.

 

She laughed and rubbed her stomach. “They checked on the baby and everything is fine as of now.”

 

“As of now? Is there still a risk?”

 

She shrugged her shoulders, and I hated how small she looked in her hospital frock beneath the fluorescent lights. “They don’t know. My blood pressure was a little high, and they want me to remain on bed rest for a while until things go back to normal.”

 

“Okay. We can do that,” I said, already thinking of food to buy at the grocery store and movies I could rent for us to watch while she rested. “So, the doctor thinks this was just a one-time thing?”

 

“We can’t be sure it won’t happen again. The only thing I can do is try to keep my stress down and rest.”

 

“But you’ll be okay, right? This isn’t going to hurt you?”

 

She shrugged, and a pit bloomed in my stomach.

 

“Heather. If this pregnancy is a health risk…”

 

“Then what?” she asked, her eyes narrowed up at me, suspicious.

 

I knew what I was about to say would upset her, but looking down at her, how fragile and pale and tired she looked, I couldn’t let it go unsaid.

 

“I just want you to know that I would never blame you for terminating the pregnancy if it posed a risk to your health. I know how you feel about the baby and I fully support you, but I also want to make sure you are safe and healthy. Just keep it in your mind as an option.”

 

Her mouth fell open as I spoke, but she quickly closed it and looked away, staring unseeing up at the TV in the corner of the room. It was playing a rerun of the ten o’clock news, and the meteorologist was warning of rain over the next few days.

 

“I just care about you, Heather,” I said, running my hand down her arm.

 

She smiled up at me, but it didn’t reach her eyes. After a few seconds, she shifted, so I was no longer touching her.