“No, Viv. Just say it. I can’t bear it a minute longer!”
Tears leak from my eyes of their own volition. “You are still Easton’s dad, Reeve. In all the ways that matter, he is still your son.”
“Vivien,” he rasps in a strangled voice. “Is he my biological child or Dillon’s?”
Strained tension bleeds in the air, and the only sound is the whoosh-whoosh of the wipers and the pitter-patter of rain as it continues tumbling from the dark night sky. “He’s Dillon’s,” I whisper, my lower lip wobbling.
“No!” Reeve’s anguished cries fill the small space, almost smothering me. “No. He can’t be. He’s my son! He’s mine. You’re mine. He can’t have you!” Tears cling to his lashes and his cheeks as he stares at me with the same lost, vulnerable expression I used to see on his face as a kid when his dad did something hurtful.
“I’m sorry, Reeve. I’m so sorry.” I scrub at my eyes, smoothing a hand across the tight pain in my chest. “But he’s still your son. You’re still his father, and I’m still your wife. That won’t change.”
“You can’t tell me this doesn’t change things, Viv, because it does,” he yells.
The car jerks forward as he accidentally presses down on the accelerator. Slamming his palms down on the horn, he pushes it repeatedly in a scary display of frustrated anger and anguished hopelessness. The horn blares along the dark, desolate stretch of road. Plush homes shielded behind high walls and gates are too far back to complain about the ruckus. Tall, old oak trees line the other side of the road behind flimsy fencing. Some are leaning at precarious angles; their branches battered by the brutal rain dumping from the heavens.
“Calm down, Reeve. Please. You’re going too fast.”
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” His eyes look wild as he fixes them on me. “I have sacrificed so much for you! For our family. And he’s going to try and take it all from me!” Scrunching his fist, he slams it into the dashboard over and over.
Sacrifice? What sacrifice? “What the hell does that mean?”
“My heart is breaking, Viv.” He stares at me with tears pouring down his face. “I don’t want him near my son. I don’t want to have to explain this to Easton. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose you. I won’t. I—”
“Watch out!” I scream as a car pulls out onto the road from a small side road. Visibility is poor, and they haven’t seen us.
Reeve reacts fast, swerving and accelerating to outrun the car, but it clips the rear end of our Maserati, sending us into a tailspin on the slippery road. I scream as Reeve struggles to regain control of the car, both of us bouncing up and down in our seats.
It all happens so fast.
Reeve yanks on the wheel, and my head whips forward and then back with the motion as the car jerks violently to the left. A distressed sound rips from my husband’s lips as our car darts forward, breaking through the rickety fence bordering the left-hand side of the road. Pieces of wood fly all over our car as we bounce forward. Reeve wrestles with the wheel, trying to regain control. I’m screaming, but it’s as if someone else is making these high-pitched screeching noises.
The next few seconds happen as if in slow motion. Reeve curses before unlocking his seat belt and throwing his body across me. His arms band firmly around my upper torso as he clings to me. I want to shout at him to strap himself back in. To not be a martyr. But I can’t get the words out of my mouth. I can’t stop screaming. Adrenaline shoots through my veins as liquid terror plays havoc with my insides.
Metal scrapes loudly, piercing my ear drums, and I’m jostled forward with force as we plow into a tree. My terrified eyes startle in extreme shock and gut-wrenching panic as a looming darkness descends over our car. The tree lands horizontally on top of us with an earth-shattering thud. The roof buckles, pressing down on us, flattening the space in the car and crushing Reeve. Fear for my husband is my last conscious thought as my head slams into the side of the window and my world is plunged into pitch-black darkness.
8
VIVIEN
“Miss? Can you hear me?” an unfamiliar voice asks as I slowly come to. Pain rattles around my skull, pounding, like someone is hammering on my head from the inside. I’m hot. Too hot. And there’s a dead weight pressing me into the seat, gluing my ballgown to my back. Slowly, I blink my eyes open, wishing instantly I could close them again.
It all comes back to me in horrifying technicolor, and I cry out. The air is cloying and thick as it wraps around me. My eyes scan the confined space with mounting trepidation. “Reeve,” I croak, lifting my hand, tentatively touching the back of my husband’s head. I scream as thick blood coats my fingers. “Honey,” I sob, shaking Reeve’s frozen shoulder. “Wake up! Please, Reeve, I need you.” Tears stream down my face as I stare at my husband’s prone body. He’s trapped between the dented roof and me, and the fallen tree ensures he can’t move even if he was presently conscious. I don’t have the strength to lift his head, to see his face, and I’m terrified to attempt to dislodge either one of us.
“Miss?” The voice speaks close to my ear, and I startle as the sound of blaring sirens echoes in the near distance. “Are you okay?”
I wince as I angle my head back, peering at the gray-haired stranger poking his head through the windowless back door. “Help,” I croak. “My husband needs help.” My eyes pop wide with shock as warmth pools under my butt, and I know what’s happening. “My baby.” I pin panicked eyes on the man. “Something is wrong. Please help us.” All the lights are out in the car, so I can’t see the blood spreading under my ass, but I feel it.
“Help is on the way. They should be here soon. I’m so sorry.” I stare at him blankly with tears pouring down my face. “I was driving the other car. I didn’t see you. It was dark and—”
He hangs his head, but I don’t have time to concern myself with him. I’m too busy worrying about my baby and Reeve. Placing one hand on my bump and the other on top of Reeve’s head, I pray like I’ve never prayed before.
Sobs rip through the eerily still night air as I barely cling to my sanity. “Reeve, please wake up. Please, baby. Don’t leave me!” I cry. “You can’t leave me. Not like this. Not when we were so angry with one another. Please, God,” I scream, tilting my head up, brushing my forehead against the battered roof of our car. “Please don’t take my husband and my daughter! Haven’t you done enough already?”
The sirens draw closer, and I will them to hurry up.
I watch in a numbed haze as the firemen work to remove the fallen tree and lift the roof so they can reach us. Large lights shine down on the car as they work, illuminating the carnage. Physical and emotional pain ravages my body as I survey the wreckage I’m trapped in. There is blood everywhere, and Reeve still hasn’t moved. I’m terrified and barely clinging to sanity. I whisper apologies to my husband as I run my bloody fingers through his hair. I beg him to wake up. I plead with him to hold on. I silently beg my little Lainey to fight. My head pounds, and my vision blurs in and out, but I refuse to close my eyes. I fight to remain conscious for my husband and my unborn child.