Page 40 of Pastel Kisses

And so are we.

Lennox and I move through the house silently, heading toward the bathroom. The mirror above the sink catches my reflection, and I barely recognize the man staring back. My beard’s thicker than usual, the dark circles under my eyes are more pronounced, and the exhaustion is carved into every line of my face.

Dan was right—I need to take better care of myself.

But how the hell am I supposed to do that when Avery’s still out there,somewhere, waiting for us to find her?

Lennox catches my reflection in the mirror and sighs. “You need sleep, man.”

I snort. “Yeah? No shit.”

He turns on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face before looking at me again. “I mean it, Liam. You’re carrying all of us right now, and we appreciate it. But you can’t keep running on fumes forever.”

I exhale sharply, gripping the counter. “What choice do I have, Lenn? If I don’t hold it together, who will?”

“We all will,” he says without hesitation. “We’re in this together, remember?”

I meet his gaze in the mirror. He’s serious. And he’s right.

I nod. “Yeah. Together.”

Lennox smirks. “Now hurry the hell up. We’ve got a press conference to get to.”

I splash water on my face, mentally preparing myself for another round of pleading with the public. Another round of holding my breath, hoping—praying—that someone will come forward with the lead we need to bring Avery home.

Because this time…this time, ithasto be different.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Avery

As I finish my slow, calculated walk around the room—my morning routine to keep my limbs from stiffening too much—I stretch my arms overhead, rolling my shoulders. The chain rattles with each step, a cruel reminder that no matter how much I try to maintain my body, I’m still nothing more than a caged animal.

“Gotta keep moving,” I mutter to myself sarcastically, rubbing my belly. “Don’t want to waste away in this luxury resort.” My voice echoes off the walls, the only sound in this dark, suffocating prison. Talking to myself has become a habit—one of the few things keeping me sane. If I’m even still sane.

As I glance down, my breath catches.

The bump.

It’s as if it sprouted overnight.

For weeks—what I assume have been weeks—my body has been changing in small, almost imperceptible ways. But today, looking down at the swell of my belly, it’s undeniable. My baby is growing.

I run my hand over the curve, swallowing the emotion rising in my throat. My baby. Not Sarah’s. Not hers to steal, twist, or manipulate. Mine. And the guys’.

Sarah’s been feeding me more lately, making a big show of it, acting like some benevolent captor as if that negates the fact that she’s keeping me prisoner. The food has helped, though—my weight is slowly creeping back. My arms don’t feel as frail, my legs don’t shake quite as much when I stand.

“Gotta fatten my healthy baby up,” Sarah coos mockingly from the doorway, making my stomach churn for a different reason.

I stiffen, turning toward her with as much indifference as I can muster. “How generous of you.”

Her smile is plastic, stretched too wide, her eyes sparkling with something malicious. “Of course. Can’t have my baby—oh, excuse me,yourbaby—wasting away now, can we?”

I don’t respond. There’s no point.

She steps further into the room, inspecting me like I’m a damn science experiment. “You’re looking better,” she muses, tilting her head like a fascinated predator. “More color in your cheeks. A little less like a walking corpse.”

I glare.

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