Page 240 of Filthy Promises

Riiing.

Riii—

“Rowan?” A pause. Long, pensive, afraid. “I… I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

“Nat,” I mumble. “I— I— Fuck, there’s too much to even explain. I need help. I’m in labor, and Vince isn’t here, and something’s wrong.”

“Oh my God.” Her tone shifts immediately from uncertain to decisive. That’s the Nat I know. The Nat IthoughtI knew, at least. “Where are you?”

“Vince’s estate. But I can’t reach anyone, and the contractions are coming too fast for a first baby, and?—”

“I’m on my way,” she interrupts. “What about your security? The staff?”

“I don’t know where anyone is,” I say. A chill runs down my spine as I realize how strange that is. There’s always someone around. Always. “Nat, I’m scared.”

“Stay on the phone with me,” she says firmly. “I’m getting in my car now. How far apart are the contractions?”

“About twelve minutes now, I think. But they’re really strong.”

“Okay. First babies usually take their time, so we?—”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying!” I snap, fear making me irrational. “But this doesn’t feel like ‘taking its time.’”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then: “Row, listen to me. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from right now, but I need you to trust me. Can you make it to the bedroom? Somewhere comfortable?”

I struggle to my feet, one hand supporting my enormous belly. “I’ll try.”

Moving is harder than I expected. Each step feels precarious. My body is no longer my own—it’s a vehicle, a very uncertain tool for a very messy job. I make it halfway to the stairs when I hear something that stops me cold.

A car engine. Then another. Coming up the long driveway to the estate.

“Someone’s here,” I tell Natalie with blind hope. “Maybe it’s Vince…?”

“Don’t hang up,” she says. “Not until you’re sure it’s him.”

I waddle to the nearest window and peer out. Three black SUVs are approaching the house—not Vince’s usual vehicles. As they draw closer, I can see the men inside.

Strangers, with hard faces and the unmistakable bulges of weapons beneath their jackets.

My heart drops like a stone.

“Nat,” I whisper, backing away from the window, “it’s not Vince. I don’t recognize these men.”

“Fuck,” she hisses. “Rowan, listen to me. Is there a safe room? Somewhere secure you can lock yourself in?”

My mind races through what Vince has told me about the house’s security features. “Yes. Vince’s office. There’s a panic room.”

“Go there. Now.”

I start moving as fast as my pregnant body will allow, but another contraction strikes, doubling me over against the wall. A guttural moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.

“Row?” Natalie sounds frantic. “What’s happening?”

“Contraction,” I manage through gritted teeth. “A bad one.”

“Just breathe through it. Google Maps says I’m thirty-four minutes away. Less if I break some speed limits, which I absolutely intend to do.”

The contraction subsides, and I push myself away from the wall, continuing my slow crawl toward Vince’s office.

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