Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

W hen I woke, the sky outside was dim, a thick gray blanket of clouds casting a gloomy pallor over the snow. My stomach churned violently. Before I could think, I bolted to the bathroom, dry heaving over the toilet, desperate to avoid vomiting in bed. My body convulsed, but nothing came. I knelt there, head pressed to the cold porcelain, wishing for relief. God, I hope I’m not getting sick.

After what felt like an eternity, I crawled back into bed, feeling drained. The hours passed in a haze as I lay there, the heaviness in my limbs mirroring the oppressive stillness outside.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Sally peeked in, her warm presence a welcome distraction. I sat up slowly, blinking away the fog.

"You need any extra blankets?" she asked, stepping inside. I glanced out the window, catching sight of the thin layer of snow dusting the porch railing and driveway.

"I see winter is not letting go," I murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

Sally nodded, then eyed me with concern. "Nick said you never came in for food. Are you feeling okay, or are you feasting on those terrible MREs?"

I tried to smile, but it faltered. "Not feeling so great. My stomach’s upset."

She frowned, folding her arms. "Did you purify your water?"

"I didn’t fill up on the trail," I explained, sinking deeper into the pillows. "Stopped at Collier’s yesterday."

"How are they?" she asked, perching on the edge of the bed.

"They’re good. Jesse looks like he’s put on some muscle since I last saw him."

Sally laughed, shaking her head. "That boy eats like a horse."

I chuckled weakly. "Yeah, he does."

Her smile softened into something more maternal. "You need to eat too. Want some soup? Nick made chicken vegetable this morning. I’ll bring you a container and some ginger tea. It'll settle your stomach."

I hesitated, grateful but feeling guilty. "That sounds perfect, but I can get it myself."

"Nonsense." She waved off my protest. "You’re practically ready for bed already. It’ll take me two minutes. Just gotta make sure the other guests are set with blankets."

"Full house tonight?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from myself.

Sally sighed, a weary but satisfied look in her eyes. "Every room is booked. Had to cram six guys into one because we only had a single left. Got a couple staying on cots in the storage room, too. Didn’t charge them."

"You’re a saint, you know that?" I said, smiling at her.

She laughed. "I’ll make it back when they spend the night in the diner, drinking coffee, playing cards, and eating nachos." She stood, brushing off her apron. "Nick’s not pulling the night shift tonight, though."

"Got someone else working?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

"Yep. A guy named Cal. He’s good with the night crowd."

"Moving up in the world," I teased.

Sally winked. "Maybe one day we’ll even expand this place."

"I hope it works out for you," I said sincerely.

She smiled warmly at me, heading for the door. "Feel better, sweetheart. I’ll bring your soup and tea in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, Sally. You spoil me."

"Take it easy," she said before slipping out, leaving me alone again.

I huddled back under the covers, hoping the nausea would pass. But just as I began to drift, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a sigh, I answered it, bracing myself.

“Michael, I’m fine,” I said before he could speak.

"Where the hell is this place you’re staying at?" His voice crackled through the line, the unmistakable hum of the road in the background.

I sat up straighter. "Are you driving up here?"

"I’m already here," he growled. "Never mind, I see the sign."

I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling. "Why would you come all the way up here?"

"Because I’m worried about you," he snapped, his tone softening slightly. "I don’t want you to be alone."

"I chose to be alone, Michael. I need space to think."

"You’ve had four days to think," he said, exasperation clear. "I can’t stay away any longer. Which room are you in, Miss Kincaid? Because I’m here."

I threw the blankets aside, sliding out of bed with a groan. Of course he is. I peered through the frosty window, and there he was—Michael, pulling a duffel bag from the back of a dark SUV, his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Morgan?” he called, as if he wasn’t standing right outside.

"Look up," I said dryly, tapping on the glass.

Michael glanced up, a relieved smile tugging at his lips when he saw me waving. He was bundled up in a red down coat, heavy boots, and jeans, the snow sticking to his hair like a dusting of powdered sugar. He brushed it off with one hand and jogged up the porch steps.

I opened the door just as he reached it, and he stepped inside, bringing a burst of cold air with him. He dropped his duffel on the floor, pulling off his gloves as he looked me over.

“Planning on staying?” I asked, crossing my arms.

"Damn right I am." He closed the distance between us in one smooth motion, cupping my cheeks with his warm hands and pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

I sighed, resting my forehead against his. "Michael, I wish you’d stayed put."

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "I wish you’d make a decision already."

"I’m not sure it was a smart idea to kiss me," I said, pulling away with a grimace. "I think I have a stomach bug."

Michael smirked, unbothered. "Then we’ll be sick together."

He shrugged off his coat and boots, scanning the room. "This place is cozy. Bed looks comfortable."

"It is," I admitted. "Sally’s bringing me some soup and tea."

He unzipped his duffel, pulling out black sweatpants and a red long-sleeved shirt. Without hesitation, he began undressing, stripping down to his boxers, his muscles flexing with each movement.

I didn’t realize I was staring until he glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "It’s rude to stare, you know."

"I—I’m sorry," I stammered, feeling my face flush.

He grinned, pulling the sweatpants on. "Don’t be. At least I know you’re still attracted to me."

I let out a nervous laugh. "That’s not even a question. I’m very attracted to you."

Michael didn’t respond, finishing his change of clothes and folding his discarded items neatly. As he placed them on the small table, a knock at the door interrupted us. Michael opened it, revealing a surprised Sally, standing there with a Styrofoam container of soup and another of tea.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Who’s this?”

“My friend, Michael,” I explained, stepping forward. “He was worried about me.”

Sally smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you, Michael. I hope you’ll be comfortable here at The Backpack.”

Michael nodded. “I’m sure I will. Thanks for looking after Morgan. She can be... stubborn.”

Sally laughed. “Not a problem.” She handed the box to Michael. “Soup and tea. Enjoy. We’ll settle up when you check out, Morgan. Nick’s expecting you in the morning.”

“I’ll be there,” I promised.

As soon as Sally left, Michael placed the box on the table and popped off the lid of the soup container. The smell was comforting, making my stomach rumble despite the nausea.

“Want to share?” Michael asked, glancing over at me.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, though the aroma was tempting. “But I’ll take the tea.”

He frowned. “When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning. I haven’t felt well.”

“Morgan, you need to eat something.”

I sighed. “And throw up all over the place? No thanks. Just the tea is fine.”

He shook his head, frustration lining his features. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

He spooned up some of the soup and took a bite, moaning in appreciation. “Damn, this is good.”

“It wasn’t Sally who made it. Nick did.”

“Well, Nick’s a damn good cook.” He looked at me again, concern still clouding his eyes. “Just one spoonful, Morgan.”

“One,” I relented.

Michael scooped up a spoonful of the hearty soup and held it out to me. I leaned forward, letting him feed me. The warmth spread through me, settling the nausea for a moment.

“Mmm. Okay, Nick’s outdone himself.”

“Want more?”

I nodded, and to my surprise, he continued feeding me, each spoonful easing the tension in my stomach and the ache in my chest. In that quiet moment, I realized how much I needed him here. Not Slade, with his lies and deceit. But Michael—who was always there, always steady.

“Better?” he asked after a few more bites.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I think I am.”

We stayed at The Backpack Motel for two long, snow-filled days. Mother Nature dumped fourteen inches of snow, leaving the world outside our window blanketed in white. When the storm finally passed, the temperature rose to an unseasonable sixty degrees, and the once-pristine driveway turned into a mess of dirty puddles.

Michael had been a perfect gentleman the entire time. We shared the same bed, his arms wrapped around me while we slept, but he never crossed the line. Not once did he try to touch me intimately. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to—I did. But the nausea that ebbed and flowed made it hard to focus on anything other than surviving the aftermath of the storm.

By the end of those two days, I’d made my decision. I wasn’t continuing through the woods with the snow weighing down every step. Going home with Michael seemed like the only option.

As we packed our things into his SUV, Darla and Paul emerged from their room, backpacks strapped on and ready for their next adventure.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Darla asked, glancing between the two of us with a knowing smile.

Before I could respond, Michael stepped forward, his voice smooth and confident. “Michael Elliott. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to her, then to Paul, his grip firm, gloved, and sure.

Paul chuckled, shaking his head. “You two heading out too?”

I smiled. “No, we’re going home. The trail’s not worth it with all this snow. What about you?”

“We’re going to check it out. If it’s too bad, Miami’s calling our name,” Darla said, sharing a grin with Paul. “I could use some warm weather after this.”

They said their goodbyes and wandered off toward the small store, leaving me alone with Michael again.

I turned to him, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t even correct her when she assumed you were my boyfriend.”

He didn’t miss a beat. His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unyielding. “Morgan, I don’t want to just be your boyfriend. I want to be your everything.”

The weight of his words hung between us, heavier than the snow that had just fallen. We hadn’t spoken much about our relationship over the past two days, and I appreciated that Michael hadn’t pushed. But in those quiet hours, I’d already come to my decision.

I sighed, a long, steady breath, and finally gave in. “Yes.”

Michael fumbled with his seatbelt, turning to face me. “What did you just say?”

“Yes, Michael. It’s you. It’s always been you.” My voice was soft but resolute, the truth finally coming to the surface.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his eyes searching mine for answers.

“Since the moment you showed up two days ago,” I admitted. “And I didn’t say anything because I was waiting for Slade to call. Waiting for him to show me that I still mattered to him. But he didn’t. Not even once.” My chest tightened, anger bubbling up as I thought about Slade’s silence. “He’s lied to me, cheated on me, and he thinks he still has me in the bag.”

Michael’s expression softened as he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Sweetheart, I would never do that to you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “That’s why I need you to take me home.”

He frowned, confusion creasing his forehead. “And when will I see you again?”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I don’t mean my place or Erika and Lincoln’s. I mean your home, Michael.”

A slow grin spread across his face, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, that’s mighty presumptuous of you to think I want you living with me.”

I arched an eyebrow, meeting his playful challenge. “Don’t you, Mr. Elliott?”

He chuckled softly, slipping off his gloves and cupping my face between his warm hands. “You know I can’t fool you. I want all of you, Morgan. Every part, even the bad ones.”

“Who says I have bad parts?” I teased, though the vulnerability in my voice betrayed me.

“I’ve known you long enough to know they exist. But they’re what make you special. I want it all,” he murmured before his lips brushed against mine in a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered against my mouth, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

“I love you too,” I breathed, feeling the weight of the past lift from my shoulders.

He sighed as if he’d been carrying that weight as well, and let me go, starting the car. The hum of the engine filled the silence between us as we left the motel behind, heading back toward a new beginning.

At some point, I drifted off, lulled by the warmth of the car and the comfort of being with Michael. When I woke, he was gently stroking my cheek with his knuckles.

“Sweetheart, wake up. We’re home.”

I mumbled, blinking as the underground garage of his building came into view. But the moment I sat up, my stomach lurched violently.

“I feel sick,” I groaned, pressing a hand to my churning belly.

Michael didn’t hesitate, quickly opening the door and helping me out. “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

With one arm around my waist and the other carrying our bags, he led me toward the elevator, patient as ever. I leaned into him, letting his strength support me, knowing that wherever we were headed, it would be together

"Oh my God," I said, staring in disbelief at the plastic stick in my hand. I waved it in Erika’s direction, feeling the ground shift beneath me.

“You’re pregnant?” Her eyes widened, though her tone remained calm.

Tears blurred my vision as I handed her the stick. "This couldn’t happen at a worse time. What the fuck am I going to do?"

Erika’s face hardened with determination. “This doesn’t change anything. You still go through with your divorce.”

She had wasted no time after I came home with Michael, connecting me with a lawyer the very next day. I filed for divorce from Slade immediately, sending him the damning video I had received. Erika had confirmed it was the same woman she’d seen him leaving a hotel with weeks earlier.

Slade’s reaction was explosive. He called me every vile name he could think of, fired me from my job, and spitefully announced he would stop paying for my parents’ assisted living. But I didn’t flinch. Michael had already promised to take on the financial responsibility, despite the fact we weren’t married yet. Slade’s tantrum no longer had power over me.

I sank down onto the toilet seat, my legs feeling weak beneath the weight of everything. Erika handed me the pregnancy test, her voice softer now. "It could be Michael’s."

I shook my head, bitterness creeping into my voice. "I doubt it. We barely had sex without a condom for a second. There’s no way. It has to be Slade’s. And he’ll fight me over this. He’s a vindictive bastard."

Erika’s brow furrowed as she pulled out her phone, tapping quickly on the screen.

I eyed her warily. "What are you doing?"

“They have a blood test you can get, but not until you’re about eight weeks pregnant,” she explained, scrolling through some information.

"Michael’s not going to want to raise Slade’s baby," I whispered, the hopelessness sinking in like a heavy fog. "I’m stuck."

Erika looked up, her voice steady. "Michael isn’t like that. He loves you. Lincoln told me he's over the moon now that you're with him."

"And it’ll all end when I tell him I’m pregnant with Slade’s baby," I said, my voice breaking.

“Don’t lose hope,” she urged, crouching beside me.

"My life is shit, Erika. Why should this be any different? I finally have the man I want, and I’m going to lose him."

“Stop that. Just stop it,” she said sharply, grabbing my hand. “You’re underestimating Michael.”

I shook my head, burying my face in my hands as the sobs came uncontrollably. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This was the worst news I could imagine, and the weight of it crushed me.

Erika sat beside me silently, her hand resting on my back, offering the only comfort she could. But nothing could take away the fear gnawing my insides, the terrifying reality that I might lose everything just as I’d finally started to rebuild.