***LONDON’S POV***
I wake up to a room that is spinning and I am very confused about how I got here.
This is the bedroom I share with Zane, but when I slept, I was in Micah’s little bedroom in the slums of town.
The warmth of the room feels me, it warms me and I feel cool about it. My forehead hurts and as I slide down from the bed, I feel all the blood leaving my body, rushing to my head in a split second.
I fall to the ground, my face turning green and my stomach churning with disgust.
The bedroom door slams open and I see a worried-looking Zane walk across the room to me, all humor has left his face. Was there ever anything to be happy about? I wondered.
“Ouigghh!” I make a vomiting sound as I manage to cover my mouth with my hands. It wouldn’t help if I didn’t make it to the bathroom on time.
“Easy, Little girl, Daddy is here now,” Zane says as he breaks into a run, sweeps me into his arm, and strides to the bathroom.
My head is down the bathroom pot as I puck. It is some disgusting yellowish liquid. Tears burn my tears at how disgusting it smells. I want to say something else, something better, but right now, I need to release all the liquid making my head hurt.
“Easy, baby, you are going to be alright. Nice and slowly,” Zane’s thick voice prompts me and I feel genuinely secure with his voice soothing me.
Helping me stand, Zane leads me to the sink while he empties the potty.
“I am sorry,” I say crying in front of the sink.
I hold the crystal bowl with all my strength as if I wasn’t strong enough and I might fall if not for the added strength it gave me.
My knuckles turned white and I felt Zane’s muscular arm slip around my waist.
“Little girl,” he calls out kissing my neck.
Tears spray down my eyes as I try to avoid him, he doesn’t let me have my way though.
“Why don’t you brush while I run you a hot bath? I will add the bath bubbles to it,” he says his voice gentle.
“And ducks? Also, those little dolphins I love?” I ask feeling childish.
“Anything for you, wife,” he whispers, placing feathery kisses down my skin.
This closeness, Zane’s gentleness is what I have missed. I might have been homesick and wanted to come home to Micah. He is family and I feel safe with him, but I was just kidding myself.
What I needed was my husband.
The realization hit me like a golf ball and I bawled my eyes, crying harder.
Zane supports me while I clean my mouth, he leads me to the bench and sits there, he makes sure he is at arm’s length in case I try anything stupid.
“I didn’t mean to fall from the bed,” I say, starting a small conversation. The silence was making me feel awkward.
I needed to know what was going on in Zane’s head.
“Why didn’t you call out to me?” he asks testing the water temperature as it lets it fill the bathtub.
“I didn’t know where I was at first. And this feeling to poke was strong that I couldn’t resist,” I sigh.
Zane shakes his head as if that is the dumbest thing he has heard since today.
“The doctor was clear, you should stay in bed and rest. You are stressing yourself and the baby. That makes me stressed too. Do you want to kill your old husband before our baby is born?” he asks and I hide a smile with a small cough.
Zane notices it but doesn’t call me out. Good.
“No, Daddy,” I reply.
Zane turns off the tap, helps me out of my dress, and slides me into the tub. Instantly, I my taut muscles start relaxing as I lean backward.
When I open my eyes to the soft click of the door, I realize that Zane has just walked out of the bathroom. I didn’t even notice I had dozed off.
When a creak of the door opens, I fight to open my eyes, but they are too heavy. With a soft nudge, Zane wakes me.
“Can’t I sleep here?” I whine as my lips point to a small pout.
“No, little girl, you can’t sleep here. Now, drink this,” he says handing me a bottle of water.
The cap has been taken out already, thus, I drink the water and finish everything.
While Zane lets me relax in the tub, he makes a few rounds out of the bathroom and I have small naps until he I feel him open the door for the fourth time and reach for me.
“Come here, London, it is time to leave the tub,” he says as he prepares a towel for me.
Stretching like the kitten I am, I wrap myself into the big fluffy towel and it swallows me. My feet slide into the soft bathroom slippers Zane has picked out for me.
Zane doesn’t utter a word as he unplugs the water from the tub and lets it drain.
Sweeping me off my feet, he makes his way to the bedroom.
My hair is wet, a good thing I washed it because it was sticky and filled with grease already.
“Oh!” I say looking at the bed. It was made with clean bedsheets on it.
“You did this while I was soaking?” I question, my voice shaking.
“Yes, London. Put this on,” he says helping me into my silk panties.
I comply, and my towel falls off as Zane puts his oversized pullover over my head. He gives me my sweatpants for comfy reasons.
A clean pair of socks are slipped into my legs and they hug my ankles, causing me to twirl my toes at Zane as I chuckle.
He smiles at me, and for the first time since I saw him, he looks happy. More relieved to see myself doing okay.
I open my mouth to talk, but Zane silences me when he lifts his finger.
“Not, now, London. Let me feed you first,” he says bringing the tray of food I didn’t even notice was waiting for me at the corner.
The smile that tugs my lips inwardly knows no bounds. I relax and watch Zane feed me chicken soup. It warms me and the spicy level in it is refreshing.
“I asked the cook to make it a little bit spicy. The doctor said it will help you recover fast,” he says as he feeds me with a chewable chicken size.
“This is delicious. I didn’t know we had a cook as well,” he say.
“We do. A maid as well,” he says feeding me another cut of meat.
“You think I can’t feed myself?” I ask as I use a napkin to dab at my lips.
“You can’t, without being sloppy and messing the place,” Zane says.
I open my mouth to argue but Zane beats me to it. He loves doing that.
“Your hands are shaking, little girl. Just eat, alright?” he bluffs out.
My hands are indeed shaking, thus, I let Zane have the last say this time around.
“Huh! I am full,” I let out and Zane doesn’t force me.
Handing me a glass of milk, I sip everything before handing him back the glass.
He sends everything outside and walks back to me.
Zane is in a clean grey shirt and black silk trousers. His tailored waist makes me feel good in my woman parts.
A day shrub hangs against his chin and his hooded eyes. I can’t help but bite my lips at that.
“Are you done eye-fucking me?” Zane asks as he walks to the decanter and pours himself a double scotch.
I gulp as I nod, closing my eyes.
My stomach has visibly grown during the time we’ve been apart. The baby bump is the size of a premature watermelon. Small, hard, and jittery.
“Yes, Zane,” I murmur, blushing profusely.
“Good. Now, we have to talk,” he let out, and I watched hose Zane bite the inside of his jaw. I know I am in trouble. When am I not?
“Zane, please,” I start begging, knowing this wouldn’t end well for me.
“No, don’t start. Were you aware you almost had hyperthermia?” he asks knowing well that I don’t know the answer to that question.
“I had thick clothes on,” I whisper, staring anywhere but at Zane.
“Do you hear yourself talk, London? Like a dimwit little brain wife,” he balks.
Tears fill my eyes at Zane’s harsh words.
“Please… please,” I beg, sounding needy.
Zane ignores me as he keeps questioning me.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he demands.
I forced myself to breathe, it was difficult, but not impossible if I prepared my mind to breathe.
“Zane…” I call out but he raises his arm to stop me.
“I asked for an answer, London,” Zane pure, hardening his voice.
This wasn’t the time to act soft with me because he knew I might slip out of his grasp. Good initiative.
“Is that what you are worried about? Why I didn’t call you?” I ask my tone becoming hard.
“Yes. Now, reply,” he states.
I give him what he is asking for.
“Because, Zane, I had to go through this alone. I was abused by men who wanted to fist on me because you are what? Their enemy? Now, for the sake of my sanity, leave me alone,” I shout.
Zane feels caught aback, but his eyes harden at me. I refuse to shed the tears that threaten to spill out.
“I didn’t ask you to be an easy target for Michael Logan,” he spits out.
My face turns white like a blank mask. I can’t stop staring at Zane as if he had just poured a bucket of ice water on me.
“Are you stupid, Zane? That man is beefing with your family. I was just a pawn in his game,” I say using the back of my hand to catch a stray tear.
“You want to watch your tone with me?” Zane warns.
“Or what? You are going to finish what your enemies started? Place me on the table and record me as well?” I ask my eyes challenging me.
Zane closes his eyes briefly, he has his large palm over his whiskey glass, scratching against it to cool his temper.
“I am not having this conversation with you,” he says.
I should know when to stop pushing Zane’s buttons. If I had any common sense in me, I would stop right now. I don’t of course.
“What did you do, Zane?” I question.
“I don’t understand,” Zane says, his eyes piercing me.
“What did you do when you saw Michael over me and his friends cheering him up while he brutalized me? Did you jerk off to the thought of your wife being fucked by other men?” I question my eyes piercing into his.
The whiskey glass goes off against the wall and I see how Zane breathes in and out, anger flashing through his eyes.
“Do you know how delirious I was? I sent my men to search for you. I was out checking out on you,” he backs out angrily.
I hear footsteps, and a knock on the door. Zane barks an order from inside.
“Go away, please, I am having a nice conversation with my wife,” he says.
“Breaking things is not a sign of a nice conversation, Zane, ” I hear Micah say.
“Micah is here?” I demand, my voice breaking as a small gust of air leaves my throat.
“Yeah! He now lives with us. His apartment is inevitable,” he says.
“I loved it there,” I lie through my teeth.
“Don’t you dare lie to me,” Zane fires out.
I look at him, challenge fills my face as I stare at him. He knows what I want to say, but I don’t dare utter a word.
“You don’t care about me, Zane,” I stutter as I cry into my palms.
Zane sighs and takes off his shoes as he climbs in bed beside me.
“I do care about you, baby girl, a lot,” he murmurs against my hair, placing soft kisses on it.
“Oh, Zane,” I whimper, crying harder now that his fresh cologne waffles my nostrils.
He brushes my hair out of my face as he lets me soak his shirt with my tears.
“Let it all out,” he tells me.
I nod frantically, but I melt in his arms as they embrace me.
“I ran away, Zane. I was so terrified. What they did to may was just the tip of the iceberg,” I confess, crying harder.
“Hush! Shhh! You are safe now, baby girl. I am glad you could escape,” Zane mutters, caressing my back soothingly.
I ravel in his smoothness, it makes me feel welcome.
When I calm down from my high, Zane holds me at arm’s length and his eyes search my face.
“Did they…” he trails as his eyes roam down my body.
“No. I fought tooth and nail,” I cry out, gently touching my slightly swollen face.
After I had come home, Micah had turned to my wounds, making sure I was saved.
“How did you leave?” Zane inquires.
“Micah helped me,” I ended it there.
I feel him nodding against my head.
This man is home, he feels warm and cozy. Like a big teddy bear. Wrapping into him, I weep myself to sleep.
I wake up to a man talking to Zane in hush tones. He has a lab jacket on and I know he is a doctor.
“Open your mouth, London. This goes into your mouth,” he says, placing a thermometer on my lips.
As I suck it, my gaze stares around the room.
The curtains are down, but only the far end is open, letting the right amount of sunlight enter the room.
I feel exhausted. I don’t have a grasp of time now that I am here. Zane is beside me and he brushes his hand over my hair, making it look good.
“We are going to see the baby,” he says pointing at the small setup.
My eyes brighten up as I smile from ear to ear.
“I will take this off now,” he says and plucks the thermometer from my mouth.
“Not bad. The fever has broken, but you need antibiotics, in case your wounds were infected. Getting septic now, wouldn’t be a good thing,” the doctor says as he removes his wand from his bag.
A jelly bottle is in his hand and he pulls out my dress until he can see my stomach. He applies the liquid before passing on the wand to my very much pregnant belly.
“Look at the screen,” he orders softly.
I am glad that they waited for me to wake up before they did this. With how fragile I am, these are cute moments I don’t want to miss. I am grateful to be sharing it with my husband.
As if hearing my thoughts, Zane presses my hand, encouraging me.
“I love you,” I breathe out as tears cloud my vision.
“I love you,” Zane replies chuckling.
I smile when he kisses the corner of my lips.
Leaning back, I focus my attention on the screen, watching how the wand finds my baby. Zane’s baby as well. I don’t fight back the tears as they brighten my eyes.