Page 78 of Hostile Bond
“I don’t feel well. This house is evil… these people are evil,” she mutters.
Knowing every room and hiding place in Hennessy house, I climb the stairs and ignore her persistent pleas to put her down. We need privacy, so no one overhears our conversation.
Even though she’s fighting against me, it's weaker than her usual attempts. Less physical force and energy, more defeated and… miserable.
My determined footfall eats up the carpeted landing, passing closed doors, and moving to the east wing of the house. My brothers and I had stayed in these rooms as young kids and over the years as teens too.
Reaching the end of the corridor, I fumble with the brass handle and kick the door inwards.
“Put me down, Dré.” She wriggles with more assertiveness this time. “I want to lie down—alone.”
“No,” I say simply, carefully offloading her onto the double bed between two posts. “I knew he wouldn’t shoot you. It was a stupid ploy to see if I’d pull out my gun. They’re suspicious about Sean's death. That’s how people like us deal with this shit, Sinéad. If I thought you were in danger, there would have been a totally different outcome. You know that, for fuck’s sake.”
“I didn’t know that when there was a gun pointed at me. I’ve been through enough, Dré.” Her hands cover her ashen face. “Go away.”
I cross my arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her hands ball and she slams her fists into the bedspread. “Fine. Then I’ll go.”
Struggling to her feet, she staggers a step or two and groans with frustration. Pushing past me, she stumbles in the direction of the adjoining bathroom, disappears inside, slams the door, and locks it.
I can deal with her anger. Not a problem. In fact, I’d rather we had a standoff with a bit of rough play, but the sounds she’s making from the other side of that door are un-fucking-bearable.
My wife is crying.
Really sobbing her heart out.
I’ve never experienced such a horrendous feeling of helplessness in my entire life.
“Open the door, Sinéad,” I call to her, rattling the handle.
“Go away.”
“I’m asking you to open it one more time, Wifey. I’m not in the fucking mood to wait on the other side of a door from you. You’re upset. Now let me the fuck in.”
“And I’m telling you for the last time to fuck off!”
That’s it. My vision goes red, my temper hits the ceiling like a comet, and explodes over the top of my head. “Get away from the door. I’m coming in.”
I take a step back, lift my boot and slam it near the handle. On the third attempt, the broken door flings inward, and I storm inside like a cyclone.
She’s hugging her shins to her chest in the round bathtub and tries to hide her tumbling tears behind little fingers. It doesn’t take me long to climb in beside her and force her curled body onto my lap. The second her head lands on my shoulder, she sucks in a tattered breath and sniffs.
“We have a new rule now, Wifey.” I begin. “If I make you cry, I’m allowed to hold on to you until you stop. And if someone else makes you cry, I’ll kill them.”
She angles her head upward, revealing her watery siren eyes—pretty and rare. “So many people have died, Dré. People who meant something to us.” Her throat works as she swallows. “It’s not about me and you anymore. Conal didn’t just threaten me with a gun… h-he threatened our baby.”
I freeze, not sure I’ve heard her right. “Repeat that…”
“The doctor in the hospital told me I’m pregnant. It’s really early days. But we counted the dates back and I think it was the first night of our honeymoon. Before everything fell apart and you lost Reno… and—and I lost Mammy. I’ve been trying to process the news… because it was always me and her. Just the two of us, and now she won’t get to know our baby.” Her chin wobbles. “Or you…”
My heart actually flutters like she’s punched through my ribcage and delivered a handful of rogue butterflies. “We’re having a baby… fuck…”
I stuff my fingers into the hair at her nape and lift her tear-drenched face closer to mine. “I had a dream you were pregnant the night you left. It was the best dream of my life, and believe me, I’ve had top class, horny dreams that gave me a boner for hours after. But this… in real life…”
I kiss my wife, sensing her tense muscles relax and welcome her immediate surrender. It’s not a woman giving in to a man. The emotion behind it is so much more. We have a dangerous, fascinating, messy, intense love––cartel style.
“Okay…” I wipe her tears dry with my hands, not sure what to do next. “I’ll run you a shallow bath and order us food from the kitchen.”
