Page 20 of The Devil's Spawn

Gage tucked Eve in for the night before returning to our bedroom. “You seem to be feeling better.”

“I am,” I said, putting aside the magazine as he settled onto the edge of the mattress.

His dark brows furrowed over indigo blue. “Could you possibly be…pregnant?” A note of hope colored his voice, ripping my heart to shreds.

“I don’t think so.” A small part of me wanted to hope too, but…

No.

Not worth the agony. Besides, I’d had a period a couple of weeks ago. “It was just the stomach flu.” My shoulders slumped. “What if…?”

He took my hand and folded our fingers together. “What is it?”

“What if it’s not in the cards for us?”

“I will not allow you to give up hope. Someday, I’m going to watch my child grow inside your gorgeous body. Have some faith, baby.”

Faith didn’t come easy. Deep down, I knew I’d disappoint him, and in more ways than one. Not only would I fail to conceive his child, but delaying my confession about Ian’s return would crush him.

Crush him and make him irate enough to go off the rails.

10. Candid Camera

By Saturday afternoon, Eve had fully recovered and was back to her rambunctious self, so we let her spend the night with Leah. Since we were kid-free for an evening, Gage took me out and wined and dined me.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight,” he said, taking a sip of his red wine. “Are you feeling under the weather again?”

“No, I’m fine.” I gave him a small smile, but I felt sick as I forced a bite of steak down my throat. The need to spill my guts was eating me alive.

My reprieve from the Friday Night Ritual wouldn’t last much longer. After we returned home from dinner, he would take the bullwhip to my ass. Time was running out. I had to find the courage to tell him about Katherine’s trickery because I’d rather withstand a brutal punishment all at once and get it over with than suffer through his ritual, only to be punished again once he found out.

And he would find out. Katherine hadn’t gone to all of that trouble for nothing. She would send that photo to Gage eventually. My only advantage was coming clean before she did.

“You don’t look fine. You seem upset.”

A nervous breath escaped my mouth. “I did something you’re not going to like.” What an understatement.

He paused, fork dangling halfway to his mouth, and darkness shadowed his features for a moment. But then he quickly washed his face of it. “Finish your dinner, Kayla. Whatever it is, you can tell me when we get home.”

“Okay,” I said, relief choking that single word. There was no going back. Now that he knew there was something to tell, he would pry it out of me. I no longer had to agonize over how and when—it was in his hands now.

The rest of our meal slid down my throat, mostly tasteless. As for the wine, I’d barely taken two sips, knowing I’d need a clear head to handle what was to come. We left the restaurant, and he escorted me to the car with one hand pressed gently to the small of my back.

Heavy silence overshadowed the drive home, and the quick twenty-minute jaunt from the restaurant seemed much longer. Halfway through, Gage took my hand in his and offered his support. It was a simple gesture meant to reassure me that I could come to him about anything. But even as his fingers entwined with mine, I couldn’t help but notice the anxious downturn of his mouth, and the way he steered the car single-handedly, his knuckles turning whiter with every mile.

As soon as we pulled into the driveway, Gage let go of my hand, and I missed the warmth of his touch instantly. He rounded the hood and opened my door—ever the gentlemen despite the brutality of his dominance. The wind rushed through the trees, scattering autumn leaves in a whirl. As we approached the front door, a cold drop of rain fell onto my nose.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said, ushering me into the foyer. “Were you unfaithful?” His voice shook with nervous anger. But his eyes…fear had taken over, leaving him open and defenseless. It was such a foreign look on Gage that I did a double-take to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I wasn’t. My dominant husband was terrified of what I might say.

Unable to help myself, I fit my palm against his cheek. Not touching him was impossible. “I haven’t been unfaithful. I promise.”

“Address me properly, Kayla.” Warning tinged his tone. Now was not the time to fuck up on protocol.

“I’m sorry, Master.” I sank to my knees, then dipped even further to kiss his shoes. “I wasn’t unfaithful,” I repeated.

Never again would I cheat on him, but he obviously still had reservations, or he wouldn’t have brought it up the instant we crossed the threshold. Lifting my chin, I saw some of the worry fade from his gorgeous eyes.

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