Page 51 of Desperate Games

Someone who apparently wasn’t important enough to mention when I saw her last.

My vision blurs. I see red.

Three months is long enough for a woman to show, my inner monster reasons, and now my vision totally fucking blacks out for a second.

“Callie,” I say, my voice gravel now. “Come with me for a second, okay? You can keep picking stickers.”

“Okay!” she sings, walking slowly, already absorbed in the book I gave her earlier.

I find a sales rep and ask her to watch my little girl.

Then I walk towards where Andrea is looking at cribs, keeping Callie in my peripheral vision as I do.

I feel like a fucking bomb is ticking down in my chest.

She hasn’t seen me yet.

She’s focused on a little plush ottoman and trying to bend down to inspect the price tag—grunting as she realizes bending is no longer in her range of motion.

I stop right behind her.

“I’ve got that.”

She whips around at the sound of my voice.

Eyes wide.

Mouth parted.

Expression shifting from shock to guilt to oh-shit in less than a second.

“Remy,” she breathes.

“Hey, Andy,” I say, trying to keep my tone calm. Civil. But rage is humming through every muscle like a live wire.

She opens her mouth. Closes it.

I look her over. All of her.

Her bump.

The faint redness in her cheeks.

The subtle sheen of sweat on her upper lip from the effort of walking in heels.

“You’re pregnant,” I say, voice low.

She swallows. “I am.”

And just like that, my whole world changes. Again.

Chapter Thirteen-Remy

“How far?” I ask, gritting out the question like it pains me.

Because it fucking does.

“Remy—”