Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Why are you staring at me?” I say softly.
“We’re goin’ to have a baby.”
The lump in my throat suddenly feels a whole lot heavier. “No, we’re not.”
He narrows his eyes. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“I can’t have a baby, Beckett. I can’t even take care of myself. There is no way in the world I can bring a child into this life and look after it.”
“Then I will,” he tells me, his voice firm.
I shake my head. “This isn’t your choice.”
“Like fuck it isn’t my choice,” he snaps. “You’ve made every single fuckin’ choice, this one I get a say in.”
I sit up, wild with anger. “I’ve made every choice? Bullshit. You’ve done nothing but keep me locked up, treating me like utter crap half the time, and now you want to be nice because I’m pregnant? That’s not how it works. You fucking hated me earlier. Hated me. Now you’re going to take it easy? I don’t fucking think so.”
His eyes narrow. “I was angry. You fuckin’ stabbed me with a needle, ran off and lied to me.”
“Oh boo hoo. I did what I had to, to get your stupid ass cartel man off my back. Becky made a choice; she made her bed. She can damn well lie in it.”
His jaw tightens.
“We’re not disucssin’ her. We’re discussin’ you. I want that baby.”
“What the hell for?” I yell. “Why, Beckett? Because you want to control me, is that it? You can’t stand me, and you want a baby with me? No. No, that’s not how it works. That’s not a healthy environment, and damned if I’m bringing a child into this world the way I was. It deserves loving parents, kind, decent people. Not us. No way does it deserve us.”
He leans in closer. “That is my child.”
“It’s mine, too.”
Hearing those words leave my mouth hits me like a slap to the face. Those are words I never thought I’d say in this lifetime. My child. I have a baby forming inside of me, a baby that deserves so much better than I can give.
“We’ll discuss this when you’re calmer, but you’re not doin’ anything to that child without talkin’ to me first,” he informs me, standing. “If I have to keep you here until it’s born, I will. If you can’t talk to me about it, open up and make a decision by my side, then you’ll stay here.”
With that, he walks to the door.
I get to my feet, rushing towards him. “You must be out of your mind,” I yell. “You can’t lock someone in a room and leave them there.”
He looks down at me, holding the door. “You’re free to walk out whenever you want, Poppy, so long as you’re willin’ to let me have a choice in this.”
“I can’t be a mother, Beckett,” I say softly, my voice shaking.
“You’re wrong.”
He turns and disappears down the hall.
Goddammit.
No.
He’s not going to do this to me. He’s not going to force a decision that suits him. He wants to discuss it like an adult, but he’s unwilling to hear what I have to say. He’s only willing to hear his outcome.
No.
No.
I walk out the door, head spinning, heart racing. There is no way I’m staying here, no way I’m being held prisoner, just so he gets what he wants. They’ve all gotten enough of what they want out of me, no longer. I walk past the group of people at the bar, most of which ignore me. I can’t see Beckett, and I don’t care to.
I walk out the front door, and then I run.
I run towards the main road, no idea where I’m going, no idea what I’m going to do, but knowing I can’t stay here a second longer.
If I keep this baby, it’ll be because that’s my choice.
Not because I’m forced to.
“No,” I hear Beckett bark, and then I hear the pounding of his boots as he runs after me.
No.
Goddammit.
For one second in my life, can I not just have something go my way.
I keep running, crossing the road into a large park over the other side, but I’m no match for Beckett’s power. He catches up to me, his hands going around my waist as he spins me, slamming my back against a nearby tree. He crushes my body with his, holding my arms down by my side as he leans in close, panting. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” I cry. “I’m getting away from this. From you. From them. You have no right to decide if I keep a baby or not, no fucking right. It’s my body, and it’s my choice. You can’t even stand me, Beckett, and you want me to raise a child with you?”
He stares at me, eyes scanning over my face. “You keep sayin’ I can’t stand you. Why? I’ve never said that.”