26. Winter

TWENTY-SIX

WINTER

I 'm 96.6 percent sure I'm pregnant. There's the 3.4 percent margin of error because I haven't been able to sneak a test into the house.

Hunter and I have not been careful. Not that he's trying to be. In fact, he tries hard to avoid being careful with an absurd sense of glee. I'm not on birth control anymore, a decision I only halfway made when I got back home. I wanted to clear out my body from everything, and sex was the furthest thing from my mind.

But when Hunter brought it up all those weeks ago, I have to admit that part of me, a large part of me, didn't want to get back on the pill.

Maybe it's reckless—okay, it's thoroughly reckless, seeing as we could be assassinated at any point.

But in the quiet moments, when I allow myself to dream, the idea of becoming a family with him and August and a child of our own….

I definitely should have gotten back on birth control.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I swipe mascara on my lower lashes, trying in vain to keep it off my under-eye concealer. The bags and dark circles are more prominent now since all I do is sleep during the day but not at night.

Plus, since I've been throwing up for the last week—at least when my body decided I could eat something—my skin has a vaguely green undertone. Hiding this from Hunter has been a nightmare.

I look fucking sick.

Ella knocks on the door, enters the bedroom, and calls out, "Ready, girlie?" Ella, Veronica, and I are going out for coffee.

Coffee is such a regular thing, but I haven't been outside the estate in months, apart from the trip to Misha Hroshko's home.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I mutter into my reflection. Walking into the room, I feel a little self-conscious in my jeans and soft, light cardigan compared to Ella. She wears head-to-toe black, the scoop neck of her short-sleeved top showing off her perky breasts.

I pull the sweater together over my stomach.

"I'm fucking starving, let's go ," Veronica calls from the doorway.

Summer naps as the au pair looks over her. Veronica and I hired the nanny, Jennifer, five weeks ago. She's got over twenty years of experience, but this will be the first time we've left the baby "alone" with her.

Seeing the tense lines around Veronica's mouth, I take a moment to remind her, "There are fifty-‘leven guards in this house. Three of them are stationed outside Summer's nursery. She will be fine for the afternoon."

Veronica's shoulders drop. She's been on edge since giving birth, not that I blame her. Between sleep deprivation and all the bullshit with James, she has good reason to be testy.

I grab her hand. "Let's get you a blueberry scone, babe."

I whistle for Kitty, and we head to the car. I try not to balk at the number of guards assigned.

There are ten guards here, H. Ten guards to take us to a café. You don't think this is overkill?

All three of us get in the SUV, the Suburban this time to get the third row, and Rio and Ella's regular guard sit in the front seats.

Rio's gaze keeps flicking back toward us, and I swear his eyes land on Veronica more than they are on the rest of us.

My phone pings.

You're lucky it's only ten and that I didn't shut down the whole street. I take your security very seriously.

Obviously.

Should I expect them to come with me into the bathroom?

Only if you want their deaths on your conscience.

A shiver runs down my back. I've clearly rolled over the line of morality because the statement makes my panties wet.

I miss you, Sunbeam.

My heart tumbles. It's only been a day since I last saw Hunter, and I miss him terribly. Like having dreams about us being together, him cuddling me until the sun comes up.

I miss you too.

"Ooh, we have to stop!" Ella exclaims, pointing out the window. Rio slams on the brakes, causing us to narrowly avoid getting creamed by the rest of the detail .

"Ella!" I yell out, clutching Kitty to my side, and Veronica grabs her milk-heavy boobs.

"Sorry," she says in a small voice. "I um...."

"What, Ella?" I rub the side of my neck where the seat belt cut into me.

"Could we stop at the convenience store for some, um, candy?" All of us blink at each other until Veronica bursts out laughing. I follow, and even Rio suppresses a chuckle. A knock on the window from Jared startles us out of our amusement.

Rio talks to him, telling him we're stopping at the convenience store just ahead.

Maybe I can get a test here.

My heart is currently in my asshole, and I swallow at the enormity of this moment.

When I reach for the door handle, Rio quickly says, "One moment, Mrs.Brigham." I roll my eyes at the title.

"Rio, please. It's Winter. If you're hellbent on using a full name, it's Ms.Vaughan. I am not Mrs.Brigham." His eyes widen a fraction in the rearview mirror before he heads around the back of the SUV to confer with my three guards.

Is life always going to be like this?

"I think it's cute that H makes everyone call you his wife," Veronica says, her grin wide.

"It's inappropriate," I say back.

"How so?" Ella tilts her head to the side, regarding me after flicking her eyes down to the rock on my hand. The one he shoved on my finger sometime during my blackout in the solarium. I still wear it.

I hear Rio talking animatedly to one of the guards from a different car.

"Well, one. I'm not his wife. He hasn't even asked me to marry him."

"Would you say yes if he did?" Ella asks, skipping over the point. I pause. If Hunter asked, would I say yes ?

If there were a baby? Yes.

If there weren't a baby...?

Girl, you know it's a yes too.

I resist putting a hand over my stomach.

When the door opens, Ella bounces out of the seat and into the mini-mart. That girl must be on a perpetual sugar high.

"Yo, get me a water, will you?" Veronica asks, yawning. "I'm just gonna close my eyes for a few minutes." In three breaths, she's unconscious, something I've learned she's been able to do on demand as a mother. She can fall asleep anywhere, in almost any position.

I pick Kitty up, placing him on her lap. Veronica lets out a long sigh, her eyes still screwed shut. Kitty settles into her.

I try to be as innocuous as possible when I'm inside the store. If I am pregnant, everyone will know it soon. But if I'm not, I want to have privacy about it.

I want to have privacy about all of this.

When Ella heads to the candy aisle, I make quick work of finding the cheap pregnancy tests. I grab one, then decide to grab two more.

Fuck, are these things even fucking accurate?

Ella's voice rings out close to me, an aisle over. "Do you want any candy, Winter?"

"No!" I practically shout. "Um, no, I'm good," I say with more finesse. She gives me a perplexed look, so I spin on my heel to grab a water bottle. I close the fridge before thinking better of it and grab a second.

Clutching everything to my chest, I rush to the cashier. It's the same guy who's always there.

"Hey," he drawls, and I bare my teeth at him, resisting a snarl.

Today is not the day. I am not the one.

He averts his eyes after a blink, and I hunch my shoulders when I feel Rio move to wait behind me. When I turn to track his gaze, apprehension nearly drowns me when I notice they're focused on the pregnancy tests.

Shit.

I don't know if I think the word or say it out loud, but he makes a motion in front of his mouth to indicate, My lips are sealed.

I mouth "Thank you" to him, unable to vocalize words.

With my heart beating out my chest, I jump when the cashier tells me my total. Grabbing my wallet, I stop again, letting out a choked laugh when I read the name on my credit card.

Winter V. Brigham

Jesus fucking Christ.

"Can we fight about it later?" I hear Hunter say in my brain.

We most certainly will.

Jamming the card in the reader, I don't wait for a receipt before grabbing the bag and card once approved.

Taking a breath, I stuff everything in my oversized purse.

When the car door slams, it wakes Veronica, who snorts before becoming coherent.

"Where's my water, home skillet?" I hand her the bottle I bought and with a deep breath, I start drinking mine.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Dichotomy is blessedly empty when we arrive. I consider Hunter's vague threat and if he did, in fact, clear out the shop. But then I see a table with the newest releases and beeline to the display.

"This place is cool," Ella says, her eyes ping-ponging around the store. Since its mid-morning, the food side operates as a café. "Okay, I'll order. Blueberry scone for mama here."

"And I want the spring salad with chicken," Veronica adds. Ella nods.

"Got it. What do you want, Winter?"

The smell of roasting beans is strong here, but I find that it soothes my stomach rather than making me queasy.

"Just a black tea with milk for me and a grilled cheese and tomato soup," I say.

Ella walks off and I turn to Veronica. She looks around the store as if she's searching for something.

"What ya looking for?" I ask, sneaking behind her. She jumps almost a foot into the air.

"Jeez, girl, wear a bell or something!" she whisper-shouts.

I gape at her until Ella bounds back up to us. "Orders placed! Let's grab a table." She loops her arm in mine, and I steer us toward the patio.

"Indoors, please, Mrs.Brigham," Rio says in a low voice when he reaches us at the door. I stare at him for one-two-three moments, my dread increasing with every tick of the second hand.

How foolish of me.

The security detail mill around the shop, and the only people not employed by Hunter Brigham are the barista and the cashier across the store, who looks petrified.

"Right," I say to him. We grab a table near a window. When he opens his mouth to object, I cut him off. "Why don't we just live in a fort then?" My hands shake, and I feel annoyingly close to tears. My nose itches.

"This is...this is fine, Mrs.Brigham," he murmurs. Then he steps back to confer with Jared, the other guard.

Probably to do a sweep for sharpshooters hanging out on the roofs.

How different life is now.

I scan the bustling street, getting choked up at what I imagined life would look like and how it's so incredibly different.

This isn't forever, I think. Or is it? Sitting back, I analyze the situation. Even when Hunter's dad is out of the picture, there will be others who want to harm him. Want to harm us.

Trapped. I'm trapped, and I'm always going to be in danger.

Just realized that, didn't you?

A hysterical bubble fizzles to the top of my throat, fighting to burst through my vocal cords. Kitty hops in my lap, sitting up to put his snout on my shoulder.

I hug him tight and try not to whimper.

"If it isn't my favorite ladies," a smooth voice says to my side. I look up and it's Marcus, my neighbor.

Former neighbor?

"Haven't seen you around much, Winter. Veronica," he says.

"Good memory," Veronica says in a sharp tone. I look at her. She shoots daggers at Marcus, and I have no clue what he did to piss in her Cheerios.

"Ah," he says, picking up on the vibes Veronica's putting off. He turns to Ella.

"Marcus Law." He sticks his hand out to shake hers. Ella's eyes ping-pong around the table.

A mischievous smirk plays across her lips, and it's clear she finds the situation amusing as hell.

"Ella Brigham," she replies, shaking his hand. If I weren't looking at Marcus, I would have missed the slight tick of his jaw.

Was it a tick of his jaw? Maybe it was just a muscle spasm. Or maybe he knows the Brighams. Maybe he's someone who wants to hurt us. Hurt me.

Everything starts to close in, and my chest tightens. Paranoia compels me to get away from the window, from the table, from this space .

"Going to the bathroom," I say, popping up quickly, displacing Kitty. Four heads swivel in my direction. Everyone wears a bewildered expression except Rio.

"Let me escort you, ma'am," Rio says.

I nod, but when Kitty tries to follow me, I bark a sharp, "Stay!"

Veronica's eyebrows crease in a concerned look. "You okay, Win?" she asks, snapping her fingers to call Kitty over to her. When Kitty settles next to her leg, he whimpers, giving me a sorrowful look.

I'm fucking up all around.

"I'm fine," I say breathlessly. "Just need to pee. Drank that whole bottle of water," I add.

I whirl around and race to the bathroom with Rio on my heels.

I slam the door and lock it behind me. Then I wash my hands.

I don't know why I do it. I just know that I have to do it.

So I wash them once. Then I follow the compulsion to wash them again.

Then again.

Then again.

I wash my hands six times, singing Happy Birthday all the way through.

Birthdays. Birthdays. I might be giving birth.

Oh, God.

I settle on the toilet seat, and when my bag slaps across my thigh, I remember the pregnancy tests in there.

Now is as good a time as ever. Right? I won't get unpregnant-er by waiting.

Unless you miscarry.

My stomach clenches. Is this—is it starting? Is this the pain of me losing the baby?

The baby I don't even know is real.

Stop. Breathe .

One.

One-two-one.

One-two-three-two-one.

I'm a step down from panic-attack-imminent status. The boxes tap together in my bag, and I pull one out without overthinking it.

My hands shake so much that the paper insert with the instructions rattles in my hands. I can barely read the small print.

"Pee on the test. Hold it under the stream. Cap it. Let it do its thing," I mutter once I get the gist of what I'm supposed to do.

The foil wrapper drops to the floor, fluttering like a rose petal, and I take the cap off the brand-new pink dye test.

"Here we go," I say, breathing out against the cramping in my stomach.

I release my muscles, counting to five and capping the test to let it rest on my knee.

Breathe, Winter.

One.

One-two-one

One-two-three-two-one.

I watch mindlessly as my pee absorbs into the test material, chasing across the result window. The control line darkens as soon as it crosses the midline, and milliseconds later, another line materializes.

Maybe it will disappear?

These tests need time to process, right? Five minutes, according to what I gathered from the instructions. But as I stare at the cheap plastic, the line darkens even more, mocking my disbelief.

Positive. The pregnancy test is positive. I'm pregnant.

I slide off my porcelain throne and expel all the water remaining in my stomach in painful heaves.

You knew. You already knew, Winter .

I retch again, icy fingers of nausea and panic swirling inside every hidden crevasse of my body.

One.

One-two ? —

You're bringing a baby into this. You're bringing a baby into this danger.

One.

One-t ? —

You are a nasty, dirty, stupid whore.

One.

One.

One.

Falling. I'm falling over the edge. I shove everything into my bag and open the door slowly. Rio has moved further into the store and away from the hall that houses the bathroom.

I take a step toward the group. One foot. Then the other.

Move your body, Winter.

I whirl around.

And leave the store out the employee exit in the back.

I stand on the other side of the door for all of ten seconds, expecting my bodyguards to run me down and haul me back to Amelia Manor, never to be seen again.

But when they don't, I blink, and the next thing I know, I'm mid-stride, running away from the café and over to the next street.

I angle my body toward Howard University, not slowing down, even though it probably looks strange that I'm running down the sidewalk in ballet flats and jeans.

My phone rings after five minutes.

I recognize Veronica's tone. When it goes to voicemail, another call comes through. Then a text. Then another call.

Finally, I slow down. My chest burns, and I accept that I'm way too out of shape.

You're not fit to give birth. You'll die on the table. Your baby will die. You're not healthy ? —

Nausea swells within me, and I lean my back on the brick wall of a clothing store.

One.

One-two-one.

One-two-three-two-one.

My phone goes off again, and I'm so on edge I chuck it into the street.

Where it's promptly run over by a city bus.

Fuck.

I look around and see the edge of Howard U right in front of me. I must have run five blocks away from the store.

When my breaths return to normal, I think of a place to go. And then panic as another realization sets in.

I'm out here. All alone. Vulnerable.

Winter, you are a stupid, stupid bitch.

Suddenly, I want to wail. To weep big tears with gut-wrenching sobs.

You need to talk this out.

I need Genevieve.

I put my hand in my bag, then remember that my phone is in pieces on the street.

But I know where she is. I point my feet in the direction of Banneker Park.

One block. Two. Three. Then I push open the door of the office building and knock.

All these years, she's been close by. I've always known this, and yet....

I've never seen her in person. I've never been in her office.

I count my heartbeats, getting dizzy at the thought that maybe she's not here. Maybe, right when I need her, she's?—

Genevieve opens the door to her office, and her surprise at seeing me is evident.

"Winter," she says with her soft island lilt. "It is so good to see you."

I stare at her for a second and then say. "You're so tall in real life."

And then I break down in sobs.