Chapter 41

Nessa shakes faintly as she falls asleep in my arms. I keep rubbing her back as I run through every possible way someone could have gotten to her. Doc and the others are fairly convinced it was the food, but something tells me they're wrong.

Her brows pinch slightly in her sleep. When she begins to sweat, she rolls out of my arms and onto her side on the bed, clutching at her stomach. At first, I don't think anything of it, but then a lightbulb goes off.

Boris walks into the room just as I am covering her with a blanket.

"Doc is staying until we are positive she wasn't poisoned," he informs me, going to her side and pressing a hand on her head.

"Boris, what kind of birth control is Nessa on?"

His head snaps to face me. "She has an IUD."

"She hasn't had a period since being in the hospital. Nearly five months have passed." I know because I pay attention.

He shakes his head. "With the IUD, she does not get her period often. Maybe once every three months or so."

I rub a hand over my face as I look down at Nessa. "Have Doc run the test just to be sure."

Boris looks from me to Nessa and nods, pulling out his phone immediately. He gets a message back saying it will take about fifteen minutes to run the test.

We watch our girl sleep for a few minutes, anxious energy filling the room. When Nessa groans and sits up, her face is pale as she reaches for the bucket next to her. Boris and I are there as she heaves, but nothing seems to be coming up.

Boris presses a cold cloth to her face as soon as she's done, and I fix her hair in a loose ponytail before rubbing her back.

"Sweetheart?" She turns her head slowly. "When was the last time you checked the placement of your IUD?"

She scrunches her brows and shakes her head. "It's just some bad food, Killer. I'm fine."

"Answer me, Ness." She can live in denial all she wants, but if she is pregnant with my child, I need to know.

"I don't know." She glares at me. "But I can't think about that right now."

I grit my teeth but understand her resistance. She feels like shit, and the thought of becoming a mother is probably the last thing she was planning and even more overwhelming when you've been vomiting.

Can you imagine me as a father? That'd be a disaster.

"Fuck you, Killer." Nessa groans, staggering out of bed and walking slowly to the bathroom with her IV pole.

She slams the door behind her, but we can still hear her as she yells at us. "It's food poisoning, but now I'm up to check the strings on my IUD while I feel like shit because you decided to panic over nothing!"

I would laugh if this were actually funny, but the fact that she goes silent after a minute makes my body feel hot all over.

Not in a good way either. This is like full blown panic, my face is turning red because my heart rate just skyrocketed, kind of hot.

She opens the door, eyes wide as she looks between us.

"They aren't there." Tears stream down her face as trepidation sets in. "Why are they not there, Cillian?"

I can see she's about to fall to her knees, but Boris beats me to it and scoops her up. He carries her to my side of the bed and sets her down gently between us.

"We've had so much sex. So so so much sex."

She starts rambling the same words over and over with her head in her hands. Doc comes into the room looking concerned.

"I need to speak with Nessa," he says, but all three of us shake our heads.

"I'm pregnant, aren't I?" The solemn look on her face tells me everything I need to know.

He nods, and it's as if all of our fears were unleashed with that one simple gesture. In the matter of a few minutes, our world is tilted on its axis.

Nessa starts to cry, but I shake my head, needing some space to deal with this. I never wanted children, neither of us did. And now that she is growing a baby inside of her, one that could very well be mine, I'm terrified.

I bolt, leaving my girl's side because I remember the look on her face when she swore to me she would never bring a child into this world. But all I want right now is for her to promise me that if it's mine, she'll keep it.

And that's not fair to ask.