“A few minutes ago.” She sighs. “I only turned it on because Detective Huxley called to tell me they’re having officers patrol around the house.”
“I don’t like you being alone.”
“Stay there,” she says. “I have my car, and I remember where Brayden’s is. I just need to get dressed, then I’ll be on my way.”
I was bracing myself for a fight and am surprised she’s agreed to join us. “I’m already on my way,” I say. “Stay in the house and lock the doors.” There are too many eyes on me, so I head to the rarely used living room in the front of the house.
“Don’t worry about me, Levi. I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be fine until you’re next to me.” I open my mouth to say more, but Brayden wanders into the living room. There goes my privacy. “Okay. I’ll see you when I get there. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says, but instead of feeling as amazing as they did last night, the words only heighten my anxiety. She’s trusting me to protect her.
When I end the call, Brayden stands beside me. “She’s okay?”
I nod, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Maybe too okay. Last weekend, she was terrified of Colton, but now she’s getting her memories back and isn’t scared of him anymore.” I squeeze the knot at the back of my neck. “Fuck it, but I think I preferred when she was scared of him. I liked thinking she’d have her guard up, at least.” I lower my voice. “He’s been my best friend my whole life, and I’m standing here thinking . . .” I shake my head. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re worried about the woman you love.” My brother squeezes my shoulder. “And considering she was on death’s door not so long ago, no one can blame you for that.”
“Everything’s so fucked.”
“Just because the police issued a warrant doesn’t mean he’s guilty. Hell, we don’t even know if Nelson is dead. They found evidence, not a body. Nor do we know if what happened to Ellie is related or some random act of violence.”
“Somebody hurt her.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “She was safe at her mom’s. I was the one who talked her into coming back home. What the fuck kind of idiot does that?”
“If someone wants to hurt her, do you think she’d be safer at her mom’s or with you?”
If that someone is Colton, he could get into my house. He knows all he needs to bypass my security system. The same weapon. I don’t even want to say it out loud. “I don’t want to believe it was him.”
But I already know I need to make a call. I need to protect Ellie.
Ellie
Monday, August 27th
The ultrasound room in the Jackson Harbor Maternity Clinic is frigid, and the paper gown they gave me does nothing to keep me warm. They’ve put pictures on the walls of new moms and their babies. Maybe they’re patients from this clinic or maybe they’re just models posing for photos that are supposed to make expectant mothers less terrified of what’s to come. The photos are large—the only splashes of color in an otherwise beige room.
Instead of feeling comforted by the smiling faces, I feel profoundly alone and confused. I slept with Levi last night, and he told me he loved me. In that tiny stolen moment, there was enough hope and goodness to make me believe everything could turn out okay. Then I went home and looked at the bags of Colton’s belongings all over my living room and realized I was just running from reality. I still haven’t told Colton about the baby, but when I tell him, he’s going to want to be in my life, one way or another. And when I tell him about Levi, he’s going to want Levi out of his life. Do I really want to put a child in the middle of that? I’m in no position to be starting something with Levi. No matter how good last night felt.
The knock on the exam room door feels ominous.
“Come in.”
“Are you ready for me?” The woman sticks her head in, smiling. “I’m Rose, the ultrasound tech.”
“Hi. I’m Ellie.”
“Is it just you today, Ellie? This is exciting.”
“Just me.” I try to smile. I could have asked Ava to come. I know she’d have been thrilled. It should be exciting to be pregnant at the same time as your best friend. But instead it makes me draw unfair comparisons. She wanted a baby, even if she had to do it alone. I’m terrified of being a single mom. She’s a natural at everything she does and will be a great mom. I’m lucky if I manage to get all my bills paid on time. But the biggest, most painful difference between us is that she just got engaged to a man who’d slay dragons for her, and the father of my child spent his Saturday night with another woman—the mother of his four-year-old son. Then he chose to walk out the door instead of talking to me about it, and I slept with his best friend. Too bad Jerry Springer’s not still on—he’d love my trashy drama.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I wanted to be so much more.
“Okay,” the tech says. “Go ahead and lie back. This is going to feel a little cold.” She squeezes gel onto my belly then rubs the wand over me and slowly adjusts the angle. “Where are you hiding, little one?”
I watch the screen too, but I don’t know what I’m looking at. To me, it’s all various shades of gray—blobs and lines, like smears on a half-processed piece of photo paper.
“Right there,” she says, pointing to the screen. “There’s your little peanut.”