Chapter 350 Pregnant?
I handed the phone to Rhys.
He took it, gave the address, and then added, ‘Be careful. They’re looking for us everywhere. This call is a risk. I just hope you find us first.’
Then he passed the phone back to me.
‘Ashton...’ I had so much I wanted to say, but the words stuck in my throat.
‘Mira, don’t be afraid. I’m on my way to you right now.’
‘I’m safe. Don’t worry.’
I hung up, reluctant to break the connection. Rhys led me back to the room before heading out once more.
When he returned, he poured me a glass of water. ‘You should sit down. It’ll take Ashton at least three hours to get here.’
I took the glass and drank.
A deep exhaustion had settled into my bones. I couldn’t understand it. I hadn’t done anything strenuous, yet I felt drained every single day.
Maybe it was the stress.
Rhys stood by the window, peeking through the curtain.
I watched his back, so many questions swirling in my mind. How had he found me before Ashton? How did he evade my kidnappers? Who did he think was behind it?
But I had a feeling Rhys wasn’t in the mood for questions, and even if he was, I doubted I’d get the truth.
My hand slipped into my trousers pocket, my fingers finding the toothbrush I’d hidden there. I’d filed one end to a sharp point, turning it into a crude shiv, and I’d kept it on me the entire time.
It wasn’t that I thought Rhys would hurt me, but still...
I yawned, a deep, uncontrollable wave of fatigue hitting me.
Rhys turned around. ‘You should get some sleep.’
I shook my head, but my body felt leaden. I was already sitting on the soft mattress, and I must have drifted off without even realising it.
When I woke, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Ashton was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand.
The moment he saw I was awake, he shot to his feet. His lips parted, and then, in a raw, hoarse voice, he said, ‘I’m so sorry, Mira. I should never have let this happen.’
The guilt in his voice was palpable, and beneath it, I felt his sheer devastation. I hugged him tightly, refusing to let go, half-convinced it was all a dream. It was only the steady beep of machines, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the solid warmth of him that finally convinced me it was real.
I pulled back slightly and glanced around. ‘Are we in a hospital?’
Ashton nodded. ‘You’re back in Skyline.’
‘I don’t remember anything,’ I said, frowning.
‘You were asleep when I found you in the room.’
I looked at him properly then—his bloodshot eyes, the new hollows in his cheeks, the dark stubble shadowing his jaw—and my heart ached.
I leaned into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent. It was so good to be back.
‘Rhys... where is he?’ I asked.
Ashton’s body stiffened instantly. ‘He’s gone home. He’s fine.’
I nodded.
A sudden wave of nausea rolled through me. Ashton pressed the call button by the bed, and I lay back, waiting for the sickness to pass. My eyelids grew heavy again.
Someone entered the room.
‘Doctor, how is she?’ Ashton asked, his voice tight.
I heard the doctor’s reply, ‘The test results are back. She’s pregnant. Symptoms like drowsiness and nausea are perfectly normal in her condition.’
There was a long, heavy silence before Ashton spoke. ‘Pregnant? You’re certain?’
‘Yes, quite sure. But I’d recommend a full check-up with gynaecology.’
Ashton said something else, but the words faded into a blur.
Pregnant? Was that the reason for the relentless fatigue, the endless sleep, the way my stomach turned at the smell of food?
I didn’t know how to feel.
A flicker of excitement, maybe, but it was dwarfed by uncertainty and confusion.
I hadn’t planned for this. I never imagined it would happen now, of all times, right after being kidnapped.
How did Ashton feel? Would he be happy?
I wanted to ask him, to search his face for an answer, but exhaustion pulled me under before I could.
When I woke again, Ashton was still there, but the look on his face told me something was terribly wrong.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
He seemed to have reached a decision. ‘There’s something you need to see.’
‘What?’
He glanced towards the door. Harry walked in, carrying a laptop. He opened it and started a video.
Rhys’s face filled the screen.
Or rather, I guessed it was Rhys from the familiar bone structure, but anyone else might have struggled to recognise him. His eyes were bloodshot, his right one nearly swollen shut. His hair was a mess, and a thin trail of blood had dried on his temple. He was tied to a chair, his usually pristine suit torn in several places. He’d been badly beaten.
‘What is this?’ I asked Ashton, my stomach clenching.
‘Just watch,’ was all he said.
A man’s voice, off-camera, spoke. ‘Start from the beginning. Tell it again. And don’t lie.’
Rhys lifted his head weakly, found the camera lens, and smiled into it.
For a dizzying second, I thought he was smiling directly at me. He licked his cracked lips and began to speak.
And then I heard it all.