Master of Death (Hollow #2)

CHAPTER 23

Nausea leads me to the bathroom early Wednesday morning.

I wash my hands after throwing up, seeing the reflection of my skin looking like a bleak winter.

I open the cabinet drawer underneath the double sinks and pause on my tampons. It all comes rushing to me, choking me, warning me of a new potential reality.

Shit.

No—there’s no way.

The sickness. The nausea.

Your tits are fuller, Gemma .

I know that I’m late, but it isn’t a novelty—irregular periods come and go in waves for me. I grab a wipe to clean my mouth, then brush my teeth and moisturize my face.

I head to the walk-in closet and grab a gray shirt from Damon’s side.

A million emotions pass through me, thinking of Damon, of Harvey, of my future career, thinking of what the hell I’m going to do if I’m pregnant.

Then I check inside my makeup bag. And I scoff. I really did. I missed over two weeks’ worth of birth control pills without even realizing it.

Why can’t I have my life together? Just for once?

I was never responsible like Gia. I knew I wanted kids one day but figured I’d be fully grown. I’d have my career. I’d know I was ready.

I’m not. I’m not .

I was supposed to figure out what to do with us before introducing another complicated element to our relationship.

I take a deep breath, knowing I need to muster my best poker face. Damon can’t know. Not until I’m certain. I won’t lose him for a what-if.

The thought itself makes me shake my head. It’s the underlying issue in our relationship. No matter what he says between kisses in bed, when the going gets tough, Damon stays far away from me.

He’ll leave me.

He’ll leave , Gemma.

I push my hair behind my ears, giving myself a mental pep talk.

In the bedroom, Damon’s still asleep. I grab my phone on the night table and tiptoe out of the room until I’m sitting on the living room couch with a blanket draped over my legs.

From the period app on my phone, I notice that I’m late.

I feel like calling Gia and running into her arms. My mind knows that I should take a test before freaking out, but my body already realizes the truth.

So, I rip off the Band-Aid.

Right before leaving for the drugstore, I put on leggings and grab my purse. I text Damon, letting him know I need to get girl stuff. I even hide the tampon box in my purse so he can’t wonder why I needed more.

My fingers shake against the steering wheel, and my stomach clenches as my mind overthinks the worst-case scenarios.

What if I’m pregnant?

I call Gia using Bluetooth.

“Morning, sunshine,” she quips. Athena sings in the background.

“Gia, I need you.” My voice cracks midsentence.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, dear God. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way to buy a test.”

“Okay. Then come here, okay, Gem? Come here, and we’ll figure it out.”

“Sure. See you soon.” I hang up, telling myself over and over that I can do this. I’m twenty-four years old, for godsakes. I can handle this kind of news.

At the pharmacy, I buy digital pregnancy tests until I can get blood work done at the doctor’s. I also buy myself apple juice, hoping it’ll give me a little energy and color in the face.

My mind is blank during the entire drive to Gia’s house.

Being near her calms me. For all her need to control, she knows what to do in this situation, so I let her take the lead. She leaves James and Athena behind as we make our way to her bedroom, and I feel bad for intruding on their family morning.

“I’m sorry. I know you and James don’t spend much time together as it is.”

She laughs, opening the box for me since I can’t manage, what with my trembling fingers.

“I want him to spend more time with Athena. I, for one, can’t stand the sight of him when I’m this pregnant.”

I shake my head and smile. “Well, thank you.”

“Have you been sick?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

She hands me the stick. “Pee on it. Then we wait.”

I’m not stupid. I’ve seen plenty of women in movies use pregnancy tests, but this is my first time ever using one, and her sharp orders are just what I need right now.

When I’m done, I walk to her bed and sit on it, watching the timer go off on her phone.

“What do you think he’ll say?” she asks in a low voice, which is something semi-impossible for my twin sister. I know exactly what’s going to happen, and I’m not ready for it.

What if he thinks I trapped him? That I’m coercing him into this for his money? What will happen to my job?

“We could be pregnant together, Gemma. Not for long, but how cool would that be?” The timer on her phone drops to zero, and Gia’s swift look is full of pity.

She doesn’t think he’ll stay.

Hell, even I know he won’t.

Like the strong, responsible, motherly love I always needed, Gia goes into the bathroom and comes out with the stick.

She smiles, teary-eyed. “You’re pregnant, Gem. Congratulations.”

No, no.

Gemma, how could you let this happen!

I shake my head, palming my face.

“You’ll make the best mom, you’ll see. Your kid will love you more than any man ever could.”

I barely hear her. I’m rocking back and forth on her bed, two seconds away from losing it.

“Gem?”

“Yeah?”

She sits on the bed beside me and hugs me tightly. “I don’t think he’ll leave. Not after I saw the way he looks at you.”

I laugh, my fingers locking around the stick once she hands it over. My vision blurs when I see the word pregnant on the screen of the test.

“He won’t be able to stop himself. With every new door he opens, his past is always there waiting.”

“So? Harvey let his past get to him, too, and you were patient enough to wait for him.”

My eyes dart to my sister’s. “I’m tired of chasing grown men, Gia.”

She claps her hands. “That’s what I like to hear! Whether he stays or goes, you have your family to rely on. Dad will be thrilled. He knows what it’s like to be a single dad, and it’s doable. You’ll be fine, Gemma.”

Fine, just fine.

Not happy like I am with Damon every second I’m with him. Even in anger or when he drives me to madness, I’m nothing short of in love with him. Every second with him is blissful, and the moments of fury don’t come close to the big picture filled with happiness.

“The more you think about it, the more you’ll drive yourself nuts. Tell him and see. He might surprise you.”

I nod. “Thanks, Gia.” I see Damon’s caller ID appearing on my phone. “I should head back.”

I stand, and she pushes my hair away from my shoulders. “Be prepared. He will be shocked. James and I were married , and the guy needed a few minutes to process.” She rolls her eyes.

“Okay. A few minutes.”

“Call me as soon as you tell him.”

“Hey, everything okay?” Damon asks once I’m back home. His brow lifts as he watches me before adding water to the pan he used to cook bacon.

“Yeah, I needed to get something at the pharmacy.”

Nausea hits me in the pit of my stomach. I have no taste buds. I can’t even smell anything—not his cologne, not even my fear of losing him—nothing.

I’ve already entered the denial stage, readying myself for his departure.

The lady inside me isn’t crying or screaming. She’s laughing, wondering how I could’ve let this happen. If it was worth seeing the cum slip down my legs when we had sex, repeatedly forgetting to take the pill.

“I’ll just come right out and say it.” I exhale loudly.

He eyes me curiously, his hands palming the countertop.

“I’m pregnant, Damon.” I gulp, seeing him check out.

He always told me we wouldn’t have the white picket fence and the two-point-five kids. He warned me, over and over, at the beginning of our affair. And now I must live with my actions, live with my ability to discard fear and warnings.

Now I have a baby to take care of. My baby.

“Damon.”

“I heard you.”

His voice is unrecognizable. It isn’t covered with bitterness, nor is it ready to happily swing me across the kitchen at the news. When I lean closer to the counter, on the opposite side of him, I see the panic settled in his eyes. And the pain that’s always there—the hurt that might as well have Palmer’s name on it—is on high beam.

“I’m ... I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

I messed up.

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t do this to trap you.”

“I wouldn’t think you did, but I thought you were on the pill?”

“Yeah, I am—I ... I’ve been forgetting to take them lately,” I say, my voice dripping with shame.

He shakes his head, pulling on his hair. “Jesus Christ, Gemma.” He heads toward the stairs.

I know . I’m so disappointed in myself.

I cross my arms and watch the love of my life retreat from me again. Except this time, I knew it would happen. Even Gia said to give him a minute or two.

So, I let him be.

I fix myself a plate, because I’m starving now, and I see Damon’s shadow. My heart jerks inside my chest when I see the duffel bag.

Dread. Dread. Dread.

“Damon, you better be kidding me !”

He’s already sorry. It’s all over his face, except this time I don’t fucking care for it. I don’t want his pleas of forgiveness if he’ll do this to us so easily. Toss us away, discard me like a worthless object.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No. Damon—no! If you leave this time, we’re DONE . There’s no coming back.” My plate drops onto the counter with a loud clack. My appetite has gone as quickly as a man’s romantic streak.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be a father.”

I’m speechless for a minute. “What do you mean? Damon, you need time. Stay . Go upstairs. I won’t bother you. Don’t leave .”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head, and I know that I have zero chance of changing his mind. Damon’s mind control is impenetrable.

“I do. You lost Palmer, and she lost her baby.”

“Gemma.”

“Damon, if you walk away now, I won’t be here when you come back. I promise you,” I whisper, feeling my resolve vanishing into thin air.

This snaps him out of it.

He strides to me in quick steps, holding my neck with one hand. “I just need—”

“Damon, no .” I push him away from me. “Not this time. If you leave, I leave.”

“Baby, don’t do this. You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“It’s not about us. It’s about our baby. Let’s just ... let’s start over. If you walk out, you’re letting your past win instead of fighting for your future. Damon ...”

He grabs my face but then lets go, knowing what’s to come.

“You know what? Fine. Leave. Make the decision easy for me.”

He looks at me as if my words are responsible for his demise. Then he’s out the door.

I don’t bother locking it.

I don’t bother with the tantrum I feel like throwing or the river I feel like spilling.

I head to the kitchen and grab two slices of bacon and eat them before reaching the bedroom upstairs.

This time when Gia calls, I pick up. I tell her that Damon left.

She reassures me that he might simply need to digest the news. I begrudgingly agree with her before telling her that I’ll keep her posted.

I decide to bathe even though I’ll be late to work. Because I need a reason to sit—a reason to sink to my lowest.

The water’s warm when I sit inside the tub—the burn a million times easier to deal with than the one traveling inside my stomach.

I lean my head against the edge, slowly breathing in and out, because it’s the only way I can survive this.

It all feels like too much. I can’t handle any more pain.

This is exactly the kind of feeling I’ve been avoiding all my life. There’s no eagerness for the future. No goals that matter. No happiness to be cherished.

I mean it. I’m done.

He convinced me that we were ready. That he was okay taking steps toward our future, because his love for me blinded his fear of commitment.

Does he use Palmer as an excuse? Has it become so easy for him to do so?

I knew he’d leave like this. I knew he wasn’t emotionally ready, yet I kept going with him because I love him enough to risk going through these deadly feelings that consume my inner self.

I love him so much it hurts, more than he could ever know.

And I didn’t leave him. Despite his betrayal and my reluctance as to what to do, I still didn’t leave him!

But he just couldn’t help himself.

Damon doesn’t show up at work.

Somehow, his absence manages to simultaneously fill me with relief and dread. Relief because I have a ton of work to catch up on, and dread because I need to know we’ll be okay.

That we’re in this together.

I have a hard time concentrating, and I feel nauseated, yet I still cross many items off my to-do list.

Marie gives me a weird look when she drops by my desk in the afternoon, but she doesn’t comment on anything. I must look like a sick ghost for someone who took a vacation.

I haven’t heard from Damon all day, but I’m too exhausted by the time I drive home later in the evening to even worry about him.

“Hi, Dad.” I need to hear his voice. I need to tell him about the baby.

“My baby’s having a baby,” he says, almost choking on his words over the phone.

Oh, Gia. She just can’t help herself.

It would’ve been nice to share my own news for once.

“Looks like it,” I tell him as I stop at a traffic light.

“The more the merrier.”

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m pregnant with Damon’s baby.

“So what’s the verdict? Do you love this guy?”

“Foolishly, yeah.”

“The best kind of love there is. Your mom and I, God did we love each other. But we were so different. Most of the time we couldn’t have known if we’d be together a week or a month from then. We weren’t the stable kind. We challenged each other.”

“I don’t remember you fighting much growing up.”

He laughs. “Ohhh, but we did. We saved the arguments for while you two were asleep. That was our rule. Often, by the time the day was over, we couldn’t even remember what we argued over.”

“At least you both wanted in. I don’t mind fighting with him, Dad. I just don’t know what to do if he keeps running away.”

“Maybe you let him. People fight and get mad differently. If he takes a breather and comes back ready to talk about it, what’s the problem in that?”

“I don’t know. I think I need to let him go.” I dismiss the truth—that I never wish to let him go.

“You know best. Just never make a big decision when you’re emotionally charged. Take a step back and think about it. But, Gemma?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be a phenomenal mom. Do you know why?”

“Why?” I whisper, feeling pressure behind my eyes.

“Because you listen more than you talk.”

I swallow.

My thoughts are piling up so high in my mind I drown in them for the rest of the ride home.

My heart constricts when I spot Damon sitting on the couch. All the mean, angry things I thought of spewing at him since he left fly out of my mind.

I’m having your baby, Damon.

God, this should feel like a dream.

So, why does it feel like I dropped a nightmare upon us? Will he stay with me because he’ll feel pressured to?

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“No. But you did.”

He nods and has the nerve to look hurt. No, Damon— I’m hurt. You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself every time you leave.

He’s freshly showered and wearing nothing but black jeans.

The second our eyes connect, a bomb of truth detonates around us, showering me with a golden secret—I’ll never love another like I love Damon.

Damon is the stars and the galaxies for me. He’s the gorgeous sun and the moody moon. He’s the roses with prickly thorns and delicate petals.

He pockets his phone and hastens up to me, grabbing and dropping my purse on the floor before he seizes my face and gazes over every one of my features as if he’d forgotten them.

“I love you.” His voice croaks, and his lips mold into mine, holding me tightly as he explores the boundaries of my mouth with his tongue.

The storm vanishes, and in comes the light and the joy. The joy of being in his arms. The joy of being home. The joy of spending forever with my Damon.

Except that forever comes at a price. And I’m afraid we haven’t paid it yet.

I snake my hands around his neck, my mind eager and willing to hold on to him for dear life. It would be so much easier ... so much easier if only I could believe him.

“I missed you today,” he whispers against my ear after our lips unlock.

“I missed you too.” More than you could ever imagine.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the effect is immediate. His frown wanes, and his jaw releases from its tight grip.

The feel of his thumb skimming my cheekbone makes me want to cherish and protect what we have and keep it away from any rational decision.

But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t constantly worry that he’s going to leave me again as soon as the next storm hits. If anything, today’s the day to finally do what’s best for me.

Because if I don’t, I might resent him for continuously leaving.

Damon retrieves my purse before I make my way upstairs.

“Leave it down here,” I tell him, my mind resolved.

You can do this. You need to do this, Gemma.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not staying here.”

I don’t bother facing him, don’t bother seeing the devil hiding in plain sight as he lets the anger that’s been simmering consume him.

“Like hell.” He chuckles harshly, his voice dripping of sharp icicles. “Gemma.” We’re already heading upstairs for the bedroom when he grabs my arm. “We need to talk.”

“Where were you when I needed to talk this morning? You left.”

“I know I shouldn’t have, which is why I came back. I know I made a mistake.”

“But you couldn’t help yourself. Even when we talked it out, went through the rationalization that you should stay and brood upstairs, you still couldn’t stay. It was stronger than you. Your past has a stronger hold on you than you think.”

“Baby, don’t you dare talk as if we’re done.”

“Damon.”

“No, Gemma.” He hugs me from behind, and we end up on the bed with me on his lap. He pushes his hair back. “Look, I know I messed up. This wasn’t the kind of news I should’ve run away from.”

My eyes are fixated on his dark ones, unable to take for granted the beauty of his face.

“When we met, I told you I didn’t date. I didn’t do romance. I just wanted to fuck you. And I’m telling you I believed that foolish lie until I spent more time with you. Next, I wanted you invading my house, my space, every second of my days. I love you so much, Gemma, and if you give me a second, I swear I’ll work through my shit.”

“Damon.”

“No. No . I can hear the resolve in your voice.”

I grab his neck, forcing him to face me. “I love you.” My voice breaks.

His eyes narrow and darken, matching the state of mind I’ve had all day.

“But I can’t be with you if I think every time I speak my mind or we fight, you might leave. I don’t care if it’s for an hour or a day or a week. The result is the same. You refuse to talk to me.”

“I’ll talk to you. What do you want to know?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know how, but you need to let her go. You need to heal and move on. I can’t compete with a ghost. I can’t—”

“She’s nothing. She’s nothing compared to you. I already told you that.”

“Find a way to say goodbye.”

“I already did.”

“You didn’t grieve , Damon. You run to her sanctuary every time we hit a bump. I won’t live through that. I won’t subject our baby to that.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll work on it.”

“And I need to process your betrayal. If I don’t do this now, I might regret it. I ran into your arms after Harvey, and I need the space. Especially after everything you told me.”

“Have your space.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“ Yes , you can. I’ll leave. This is your home, Red. Don’t leave, stay.”

I manage to relinquish his hand as I stand up, facing him. “I’m not kicking you out of your own home.”

“It’s our home. And I’m in the doghouse, so I’ll go.”

“Where will you go?”

He shrugs. “My mom’s place.”

“Okay,” I whisper, if only because I don’t want to fight, and I’m ready to go to bed already.

“For how long?” he asks, staring at the distance between us like a glorified cockblocker.

“However long it takes.”

I head for the bathroom, shutting down the voice begging me to look back, to hug him one last time, to kiss him stupid.

Instead, I close the door behind me and lean against it. I need to make sure he leaves before I grab on to the loop of his jeans and beg him to stay.

They say love gives people the power to destroy you.

But perhaps that isn’t true. Perhaps what destroys us is our reluctance to walk away.

Which is why I need to let him go.

He won’t change and stop running until his past stops chasing him and dragging his soul through hell by way of nightmares.

I stare at myself in the mirror, palming my taut stomach, my mind blown at the knowledge that I’ll be creating a life every second of every day until I get to meet our baby.

I grab my breasts, holding them up. They are fuller—the difference subtle, yet there.

After a long time has passed, I step inside the bedroom and see that Damon’s gone, along with a few of his necessities.

I chased him out of his own home.

But I hold on to my instincts, whispering that this needs to happen. Damon needs to grieve Palmer, and I need to make sense of the fact that Palmer destroyed Harvey’s future and Damon protected her.

Just the thought of facing him at work tomorrow, seeing him so close and yet knowing I won’t be able to touch him or kiss him, is enough to puncture my heart.

Nothing but time will fix this, so I cook a beef stir-fry and spend the rest of the night doing laundry and googling baby names.