I thank her, and the moment she’s gone, I stare at the images and read the small print at the top.
O’Leary-Evans, Victoria
GA=18w4d
I learned from researching that GA means gestational age, which is how pregnancy weeks from the woman’s last menstrual cycle are counted. This means the babies were conceived about sixteen weeks ago and that was right around the time Johnny was about to kill me.
“You wanna tell me how it’s the middle of September and this is saying you’re over eighteen weeks along? Pretty sure the first week of July was only ten weeks ago.” I squeeze the pictures tight in my hand, rage building in my blood at the audacity this bitch has to lie to me over and over. “There’s no fucking way they’re mine.”
“We’ve been married for four months, so it’s very believable we got pregnant right away and that they’re yours,” she states matter-of-factly.
“But we both know they’re not.” I’m fuming and can barely control myself. “You were already pregnant when your father was about to shoot me, weren’t you?”
I don’t need her confirmation to know she was. She would’ve been super early, but it’s possible she could’ve known at that point. What other motive did she have for saving me? She needed someone to marry her and claim the babies.
But why?
“What’s it matter? We’re married, and you’ll be the father to them,” she says sternly.
“You bitch,” I whisper-hiss. “This was never about getting your trust fund and out of the family business, was it? You needed a father for them. Who’s the real one?”
“Shut. Up,” she snaps. “This conversation is over.”
The fuck it is.
“What exactly were you going to say when you went into labor two months early?” I push.
“Twins come early all the time.” She brushes it off like I’m a goddamn idiot. “I’m giving birth in a private suite, and it’ll be kept quiet until it’s time to announce their births.”
“You’re seriously delusional.” I shake my head in disbelief. “The moment your father finds out you got pregnant by another man, he’ll understand why I divorced your ass.” And hopefully let me leave without putting a bullet in my head.
Victoria scoffs with a smug grin. “Well, good luck proving it.”
I fucking will and won’t need luck, princess.
Once the doctor tells her to take it easy for a few days and sends us on our way, we finally make it back to her place with all the bags. She demands I unload them and set everything out on the dining room table. I do as she says to keep the peace, but my mind is still reeling from the information I just learned.
I know her family is religious, and she wouldn’t want to be pregnant out of wedlock, but I can’t figure out is why she didn’t just marry the real father instead of someone she barely knew. That part doesn’t quite add up, but if I know anything about Victoria, she does what will benefit her the most.
A paternity test would easily prove it, but it won’t be easy to get one done if she fights it. However, her being farther along means this pregnancy will be over a lot sooner and she won’t be able to hide her secret for long. Now that I know the truth, I have a little more weight in this deal.
Hours pass and when I don’t see or hear from Victoria, I assume she passed out for the night.
Thank God.
I make myself dinner, then head to my room to watch meaningless TV and try to keep my mind off Maddie, which of course never works.
Just as I’m dozing off, my phone beeps with a message.
Unknown number: It’s Tyler. I’m getting Maddie out of there and have the proof you need to get your freedom. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Gimme a few days. Until then, sit tight.
Chapter Seven
MADDIE
Ty’s still here.
Thank God.
It’s been two days since I overheard Eric tell Ty he’s leaving, and I’m scared like hell that his replacement is going to somehow be worse than Eric. Ty is my only saving grace while being stuck here.
Even after that happened, Ty never acted like anything was wrong. He helped me in the gym yesterday and this morning as if things weren’t about to change. I want to ask him about it, but I’m worried I’ll set him off or something since Victoria can hear us on the cameras.
What happens after he goes? Is he put on another mission? Fired? Killed?
I can’t even stomach the thought of Ty not being here because he gives me some hope that things will be okay. And he keeps me company since he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to want to murder me.
“Ty, I have a question,” I ask him as I finish my cool-down on the treadmill.
“What is it?”
“Do you think I could text my sisters today? Just give them a little ‘I’m alive’ update?”
His eyes finally meet mine, his lips in a firm line before he speaks, “That should be fine. I’ll need to supervise you, though.”
“Of course,” I say, knowing the rules. I’m just glad I’ll get to talk to them for a couple of minutes.
“Go clean up, and I’ll get Eric on board. Meet in the kitchen when you’re done. I’ll have your phone then.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
He replies with a curt nod before walking away. Once I’m done stretching, I go to my bathroom and take a quick shower. I’m anxious as hell to communicate with them. I know they’re worried to death because ignoring their texts isn’t normal for me. They’re going to know something’s up even though I chatted with them when I arrived and told them I was fine.
“Here you go.” Ty hands me my phone as soon as I step into the kitchen. “I’ll read over your shoulder so you don’t have to hand it to me every time you send a message.”
I smile wide at his generosity, and I’m surprised Eric isn’t here to supervise. “Thanks!”
But my lips turn into a frown at the numerous missed calls and unread messages. Shit.
Sophie: I talked to Joel, and he says you’re missing classes?? You don’t ever skip dance rehearsal, even when you’re dying sick. What’s going on, Mads?
Great, she’s talking to Joel. No doubt he’s worried about me now, too. But she’s right. I love it too much to miss it.
Lennon: I know you’re in hiding, but let me know if I can do anything for you. I know a thing or two about unbearable heartache.
My throat goes dry as I think about what Lennon went through when she lost Brandon. She was a mess and luckily had Hunter to pick up the pieces, but who’s going to help them all when I’m gone for good?
The morbid thoughts hit me at my lowest points.
No messages from Liam. According to Victoria, he knows I’m here and could see me on the cameras. Does that mean he’s stopped caring? Is he not worried?
Did I really mean as much to him as he said?
Questions swarm my mind as my chest tightens with what she’s making him do for her. Imagining them together makes me sick.