Could they have really nailed down Adrian?
Or could it be Alec? He doesn’t strike me as the takedown type, but if he’s weighed the sides and considers Dante the best shot at survival, maybe he flipped. Even after living under the same roof for years, I don’t have a solid impression of Alec’s loyalty to Mateo. Alec keeps his head down and stays out of the way.
He was joking around with Dante and Rafe at family dinner, though, and he does live in this house, so it might make sense.
I consider calling just to see who answers, but then the message from Rafe appears. “On my way.”
I should feel more relieved, but I’m cramping and my head is full of treachery; relief doesn’t exist here.
When Rafe comes down this time, he brings an apple. At first I want to take it and throw it at his head—he really thought I’d want a fucking apple? My pelvis feels like it’s trying to push my body apart—but then my rational brain reminds me he probably needed a feasible excuse for coming down to see me, something that would check out if Mateo checked the cameras. Since he’s brought me a snack and visited each day, that isn’t suspicious.
He’s a good planner. I wonder if that’s why he started bringing me snacks in the first place?
I’m too uncomfortable to keep thinking about it.
“You okay?” he asks, his gaze moving to my stomach, then back to my face.
“Yeah, but someone needs to call the doctor. I started having twinges last night when I was trying to sleep, but there’s no clock down here, so I don’t know what time it was. I don’t know how long I slept… I just need the doctor to get here.”
“All right. Hang out here for a minute, I’ll go tell Mateo.”
Like I can go anywhere.
I’m feeling excessively bitchy, but I restrain the urge to say that and Rafe leaves to get help.
Adrian is the one who comes down with the dungeon key, not Mateo. I haven’t seen him in a while.
“How’s the family?” I ask lightly, as he fits the key in the lock and turns it.
His dark gaze flits to mine, then he looks back down and eases the door open. “Can you walk on your own?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course I can walk on my own.”
“Well, I’ve never been in labor,” he says, a touch defensively. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“I don’t know.” I do, but there’s no clock down here and I can’t tell Adrian I have a phone to time them, in the event he is not the A programmed into my contacts.
The brightness above stairs gives me an instant headache. By the time we get to the next staircase, another contraction hits and I have to stop. Adrian grabs his phone and checks the time.
It subsides and we resume our trek back upstairs. He takes me to a guest room, not the bedroom I’ve been sleeping in. It’s red and dark, the drapes pulled shut so less light shines in. There’s a bathroom adjoining the bedroom and I see a big bath tub inside.
“It’s certainly an upgrade,” I say, nervously tapping my hands against my sides. “Is Mateo coming in?”
“Depends,” he answers, succinctly.
I lift my eyebrows and nudge him to speak to me. “On?”
He walks through the open door into the bathroom and opens the linen closet. “How far apart your contractions are.”
I watch him pile stacks of fluffy, white towels on one hand and bring them in, putting them on the bed. As if I’m not here, he ignores me and walks over to a dresser, removing items and placing them on top. I walk over to see what he’s doing.
A little twinge—in my heart, this time, not my pelvis. It’s baby stuff. Laundered and folded receiving blankets, little blue booties, a hair brush, things like that. I grab a blue bulb syringe, remembering how Lily used to cry when I tried to use it on her tiny button nose.
Placing the little bulb back where I got it, I glance at Adrian. “Will Mia come?”
At that, he slides a glare my way so dark, I immediately take a step back.
He doesn’t answer, but after five years and a betrayal against the wrong person, I’m finally starting to learn there’s a certain time to just stop. My angry ex’s personal hitman glaring daggers at me mere hours from the eviction of my son, the only reason I’m still alive, is probably just such a time.
Boy, the messes I manage to step into.
Once he’s finished getting everything set up, he takes a seat in the chair beside the bed and pulls out his phone, balancing it on top of his thigh. “Let me know when you have another contraction.”
“Oh, trust me, you’ll know.” I feel awkward just standing here, so I take a seat on the edge of the bed. He still looks like he would rather be anywhere other than in this room with me. I can’t imagine, in this moment, him taking part in any plan that leaves me alive. It was difficult for me to imagine him betraying Mateo, but right now, seeing how much Adrian hates me now… I am not optimistic about life.