Page 138 of Kings Fear No One
Abraham smiles proudly. “My most adored believer, I always knew you would come.”
“NO!” I yell. “Teysha, get the fuck out of here!”
“I can’t,” she answers. “I have to stay with him.”
“Teysha… run… now!”
My words leave me as a rumble that’s straight from the gut. That’s deepened by sheer panic at her presence. What the fuck is she thinking!?
“Sweetheart, come here,” Abraham commands. “Come to me, and we will be reunited as one.”
She remains where she is. “There’s something I must tell you first. But only if you release Believer Logan.”
“You are in no position to make such demands. You will do as I tell you?—”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurts out. Her hand comes to her stomach, mapping out the smallest bulge hidden by the fabric of her dress. “I’m having your baby, Abraham.”
34
TEYSHA
The news is met with stunned silence.
It’s unclear who’s more shocked by the news—Logan or Abraham.
I’m not sure whose reaction makes me shake more. A range of emotions pass in Logan’s gaze, from shock to confusion to anger of some kind. His eyes narrow, his jaw so clenched it could be wired shut.
Abraham’s shock fades for confusion too, then his pointed features spread in glee. He gains a feverish gleam about him, like he’s been told he’s won the lottery. In his twisted view, impregnating one of his wives is one and the same.
It’s an open secret that he’s struggled to spread his seed. None of his wives have produced any heirs that were his. The few pregnancies that have occurred within the Chosen Saints were always the doing of other men in the family.
By virtue of carrying his child, I’m as precious as gold. I’ve got an upper hand that I’m hoping to use as a bargaining chip.
Me for Logan.
At least in this moment. At least ’til we can figure something else out.
Abraham won’t hurt me so long as I’m pregnant… I hope.
It’s a wager that could be life or death for Logan and me, but what other choice is there?
I’m finally taking the situation into my own hands. I’m exercising an agency that I haven’t otherwise been afforded in what’s the most difficult time of my life.
The truth is, I’m not sure who the father is. I’m barely even sure I’m pregnant. When he drove me to Mason and Sydney’s house, I had asked Logan to stop by the Buy N’ Save, pretending I needed more tampons. Instead I snuck off to the female health section and snagged a couple pregnancy tests. While he left to handle his business, I took the tests in the bathroom of Mason and Sydney’s house.
All four came back positive.
It made sense given how emotional and sick I’ve become over recent weeks. It hadn’t even been a consideration I’d thought of until Sydney’s bachelorette party. As my belly churned at the taste of wine and the smells of the cheeses available, I realized something was up. Something was wrong if I couldn’t even handle a tiny bite of brie.
You’d think as a married woman, I’d be over the moon to be expecting. I’d be excited about telling my husband the news and celebrating the life we’d be welcoming in the coming months.
But I’d broken down in tears instead.
How could I be happy when a disturbing possibility hung over my head? What if… what if the baby growing inside me wasn’t Logan’s? What if I’d been pregnant all along and the test I’d been given when I was freed from captivity had been wrong? What if it had been too early in my pregnancy to tell and now I’m carrying someone else’s baby?
Logan and I have struggled to find our footing in our marriage, and that was without the burden of pregnancy.
…without the devastating blow that I could be carrying another man’s child.
