Chapter 4

I walkover to the still-vibrating knife and rip it out of the door.

“Baby, I get that you’re mad,” I scream out my frustrations as Lucas struggles to stand.

It takes everything in me not to kick his prosthetic leg right out from under him. Somehow, I understand that would be a low blow. I still want to follow the urge thought as his smug gorgeous face comes into view.

“Husband?” I hiss as I flip the knife in my hand.

“It was the natural conclusion to our situation.” He looks at my belly in awe.

“It’s customary to ask the woman first before announcing it to the world. Let’s not forget that it’s utter bullshit.” He reaches for me.

His hand hovering over our child as his eyes search mine. They don’t ask permission more than give me a warning that he’s going to touch me. I nod anyway.

I’ve had months to get used to this change.

He’s had only moments, and guilt rips through me again. I’ve spent many nights lying awake, wondering how this reunion would play out. I never dreamed I’d stab him.

“Merda, you’re bleeding everywhere.” I reach for the office phone and dial the doctor I have on standby for, accidents.

“I’ll live. Hello, little one, I’m your Daddy.” My heart lurches, and the tears I’ve been fighting so hard flood my eyes.

“Hormones,” I say as I wipe them away.

“How are you feeling? Is everything alright?” He stands there asking me questions as the doctor finally answers my call.

“How bad?” I chuckle at his phone manners.

“One stab wound to the upper thigh and a personal matter.” Silence meets my ears, and I groan.

“Personal? I need more details.” I sigh.

“I’m pregnant.” I think that may be the first time the words have left my lips.

“How far along?” I bite my lip, hesitating to answer because I’m not sure.

“Approximately twenty-eight weeks. Give or take,” Lucas says, and my eyes flip back to him.

“I’ll bring a portable ultrasound. Thirty minutes.” The doctor hangs up, and I replace the receiver.

I look at Lucas, whose cheeks are slightly pink.

“I missed you.” He cups my face.

“Enough to keep track of how many weeks I’ve been gone?” He shakes his head.

“No. I’ve been counting the days before I could do this.” He kisses the reply I had ready right out of my mind.

It turns heated quickly both of us desperate for the other.

“OUCH!” I pull away and find us on the couch.

Somehow we’d ended up on it, me straddling Lucas, my hands buried in his hair while his hands were on my ass. The problem was I was pressing on his wound. I go to stand, but he shakes his head.

“No, I need to feel you. It’s been so long,” He smooths my too-long hair out of my face and just stares at me as if he had forgotten what I looked like.

“Why?” He whispers after a few minutes of running his hands all over my body.

“You needed peace. You’re never going to have it until he’s dead.” He sighs, closing his eyes and dropping his head back on the couch.

“Stupid, stupid woman.” He pulls me closer with a hand around my throat.

He brings his face into mine, and I can see the suppressed anger he’s trying to hide.

“Don’t you realize you took the only peace I had with you when you left? You are my tether, Gianna. I was lost without you.” The moment his lips touch mine, I’m lost.

It isn’t until a banging on the door starts that we break apart.

“Come in,” I call out as I adjust my clothes.

Bishop walks in and watches me climb off Lucas’s lap.

“That your blood or his?” He points at my pants, and I curse.

“His,” I sigh at my ruined designer clothes.

“She stab you?” Bishop looks at Lucas but points at me, making me frown.

He nods with a goofy grin.

“Love hurts.” The retired priest nods at Lucas’s words.

“Amen.”