Page 57 of Unexpected Redemption

Me:

Nah. I like having you guys in there. I only need some space occasionally.

Mia:

You may use my office as you wish. But no funny business.

I don’t reply.My mind meanders along different tracks. Worries about Lettie watching the capture op leads me to wonder if she’ll want to watch the interrogation, which I’m not okay with. Then I’m replaying how good it felt to have Yev’s life in my hands.

“Is he still out?” I ask Aaron.

“Yeah, T,” he rasps.

“Keep an eye on him. He might wake up soon.”

He’s restrained and gagged, but you can never be too safe.

I scan through my text string with Lettie as a nagging thought pricks at me. She mentioned nausea again, which she’s had just about every day for the last week.

Folding my lips inward, I toggle to the calendar app and count the days. My chest grows tight, and my breath quickens. Unless it happened during our time apart, she hasn’t had a period in well over a month. Probably closer to six weeks.

I flip my phone face down, setting it on my thigh. After forcing my breathing to return to normal, I take a gander at the man behind the wheel. The one with a very pregnant fiancée.

“Sawyer, how soon after Sammy got pregnant did she start feeling sick? Isn’t that like... an early sign?”

His throat bobs with a forced swallow. Blinking rapidly, he twists his head in my direction. By the time he’s looking squarely at me, his eyes are as wide as Frisbees.

Oh shit.

Why did I ask that?

Since he’s driving, he thankfully shifts his attention back to the road. His mouth moves without words forming.

“Never mind. I’ll look it up,” I huff, quickly paying a visit to Dr. Google.

“Um.” Sawyer taps his thumb on the steering wheel. “So the first symptoms were frequent trips to the bathroom. Her chest was tender. And she was nauseous a lot. Especially when she didn’t eat regularly.”

I quirk up one side of my face. “Her chest?”

He gives me a sidelong glance of irritation. “Her boobs.”

“Oh. And how long do you think that was after . . .”

“No more than a month after we uh... had...” He lowers his forehead and volume. “You know.”

I scan the calendar again.

Almost a month since that accidental no-condom situation on my couch. And then the weekend where she was...

Fuck.

As much as I’d love for Lettie to have my baby one day. Hell, even now. Not sure I like the idea of not knowing if it’s mine.

Not because I wouldn’t love the baby. If it isn’t mine, it’s still half of her. Loving any part of Lettie is a given. I can only imagine how wrecked she’d be over being forced to carry the baby of someone who assaulted her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Leaning forward, I brace my elbows on my knees and roughly scrub my palms over my face. A knot forms in my gut, and a weight settles in my chest, making breathing nearly impossible.

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