He grabbed her wrist. “You think I don’t want to be linked with you? You think I don’t want this?”
Within seconds she was naked and spread out on the kitchen counter. He stood between her thighs, and she gasped as he touched her pussy.
“You want this, don’t you, Robin? You want my rock-hard cock.”
“Yes, please, Preacher, please, please, I need you. Don’t take the baby away.” She frowned as the scenery changed and she was alone in the darkened forest. She was dressed, and the arousal of moments ago was gone.
Fighting against the darkness, she had to wake up.
She had to.
Opening her eyes, she stared up at the ceiling.
Everything had been a dream.
“Robin, oh, my God, you’re awake. I need a doctor,” Bishop said.
She touched her stomach, but there was nothing there. No baby.
Everything came crashing around her, and she opened her mouth, letting out an ear-piercing scream.
Two weeks later
Robin stood at the door of the nursery.
She lifted her hand as if to put it on the door but stopped herself. She couldn’t go through the door, or touch it.
She stepped back, staring at it.
Touching her stomach where the baby had once been, her eyes started to fill, and she quickly turned away from the door. She didn’t go far, just to the top of the stairs, where she sat down. All it would take was the turn of the head to see the door right there. She wasn’t so far away from the room.
She’d been back at Preacher and Bishop’s house for a couple of days now. Neither of the men had pushed her to do anything. She sat with them in silence as they ate their meals. She had gone to school, but that had become too much. There wasn’t a lot she’d missed, but it wasn’t the same.
Everything was different.
No, it wasn’t different at all.
The club was still the same. The colors on the walls and trees were all the same. The only thing to change was herself.
She was the person who was different.
No one else.
She dropped her elbows to her knees, resting her head in her hands.
How could life have changed so much in the past couple of weeks? She didn’t understand it.
One moment she’d been happy, pregnant, with a few rough patches.
Now, she wasn’t pregnant, and life seemed dull.
Preacher cleared his throat, and she looked up to see him on the stairs, watching her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded croaky even to her. Other than the scream at the hospital, she hadn’t spoken a single word.
Speaking seemed like a lot of hard work.
“How are you doing?” he asked, moving up the stairs until he was really close.
“Fine. Better than could be expected, I guess.”
“Have you talked to Randall today?”
“No. I don’t need to talk to him.” She got to her feet and brushed past him.
Preacher didn’t stop her from going, and she went into the kitchen. She needed a drink. Her first thought was to reach for the whiskey. She hadn’t drunk a drop of alcohol since that night.
She picked up the bottle, which was on the counter. Preacher followed her into the room.
“I know I shouldn’t drink my sorrows away,” she said.
“No, you shouldn’t. Drink is not the answer to any of our problems.” He grabbed the bottle out of her hand, produced two glasses, and poured them both one. “But, sometimes, a drink can help.”
He pushed the whiskey toward her.
“You’re healing, Robin. You can take the drink, or not, it’s really up to you. I’m not going to force you to drink.” He downed the whiskey in one gulp. “With everything going on, I’d say we earned it.”
She stared at the amber liquid.
For once, she wanted to stop thinking about the pain. The memories consumed her, and she hated how her dreams would go from sex to being trapped in the forest with no one. Lifting the glass to her lips, she knocked the whole thing back, and coughed as she did.
He poured her another glass.
“The stuff is horrible.”
“That’s the point.”
“You drink horrible stuff on purpose?”
“It’s strong and gets the job done.” He finished his second glass. “That’s me done. It’s the first time I’ve had any alcohol since finding out I’d knocked you up. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Yeah, you did. I was pregnant, and now I’m not.” She didn’t drink this glass all in one go. She sipped at it, savoring the strong aroma.
All of her senses seemed to be on high alert, and she hated how delicate she felt, and how everyone was treating her. Even Bishop.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Preacher asked.
Randall had been trying to get her to talk or to speak to a shrink or someone. She didn’t want to talk.
She’d kicked Bishop out of her bed because to have him there felt like a betrayal. He’d not wanted her to be pregnant in the first place, so he didn’t understand the pain. Bishop would always hold her stomach, and for now, she just wanted people to keep their hands to themselves.