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CHAPTER EIGHT

ALINA

“Oh god,” I groan, resting my head on the seat of the toilet. I push my hair back from my clammy face and try to sit up, resting my back against the cold tiled wall. “Why are you torturing me now?” I say to my small bump. I hadn’t heard back from Hap, and from that I had taken that he was out. I hadn’t gone back or pressed for him to sign the papers. That’s something I can do in a few weeks, when I am not chucking my guts up every five minutes and when I know I won’t cry in front of him. Apparently, it wasn’t just my stomach that was unstable; my emotions were as well. I had cried in a custody meeting over a dog yesterday. A dog! It may have only been 16 days, 4 hours, and 28 minutes since I had left Hap standing in his room, but I know that if I see him, I will crack. Nope, when I next send him the papers to sign, I want to be ready to battle. I want to be the lawyer that people know me to be, that they fear of me.

I take a shaky sip of water and sigh with relief as the cold liquid trickles down my throat. Within 30 seconds, my head is back down the toilet as my body continues to retch, even when nothing is coming up. I try sitting up but the room spins.

“Okay, slow movements,” I mutter to myself as I slowly lower myself to the bathroom floor. I didn’t want to eat lunch anyway.

“Alina, open your eyes, baby,” I hear a deep voice say. I groan as I feel arms come around me and lift me up. I blink my eyes open, and as I squint up, I see Hap.

“Hap?” I ask, confused.

His blue eyes flicker down to mine as he lays me out on my bed, covering me with a blanket. His eyes stay fixed on mine as he pulls out his phone. “Rage, put Dixie on. I need to ask her a question,” he says into his phone. I look around the room, wondering what the fuck is going on. “Hey Dixie, yeah, she’s lost weight, and she looks pale as fuck. Found her on the bathroom floor. What do I do?” he asks.

I try to sit up, but when I realise I’m dressed in nothing but a sports bra and cotton shorts, I pull the cover up. His gaze never leaves mine. Oh god, I probably look like shit, and I bet my breath smells like ass.

“Okay, got it, thanks.” He disconnects and looks at me. “I’m going out to grab you some things. Don’t move, and I will be back,” he orders.

I blink up at him. What the fuck is going on? Have I passed out? Is this a hallucination? He places a glass of water and a bowl next to me on the bedside table.

“Don’t move,” he adds before he walks out of my room.

“What the fuck is going on?” I exclaim to my empty room.

Thankfully, I wasn’t sick again, but I feel exhausted, and before I know it, I’ve fallen back asleep. I feel warm hands gently brushing the hair back from my face.

“Wake up,” Hap’s deep voice gently caresses over me. I frown and blink, opening my eyes. His face is stern as he leans over me. “Sit up and drink this,” he says, holding out a drink. I rub my face and sit up. My arms are shaking from weakness, and I have nothing in my system, as I hadn’t eaten since dinner last night, and that had been dry toast in fear I would be sick again. That seems to be the only meal I can handle at the moment. He hands me a glass of water and drops a pill in my palm.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Anti-sickness medication from the doctor,” he states.

“But I haven’t seen a doctor,” I state.

“I know, but I have on your behalf, and he gave me that to give to you,” he states.

I look at him, then at the pill in my palm. I take it, as I have no reason to doubt him. Although I know very little about him and he is in my house. “How did you get in?” I ask.

“I let myself in. Your security system needs work,” he adds. He lifts a tray and places it down on my lap. I look down and see a bowl of soup and a crusty bread roll. My mouth salivates as I look at it.

“I can’t eat that,” I state.

“You can, and you will,” he orders.

I raise my brow at him before folding my arms across my chest. “Who do you think you are? I’m an adult, and I’m older than you, for that matter. You can’t just walk into my house and tell me what to do!” I snap.

He leans in close, resting his hands on the headboard on either side of my head, all while being careful not to knock over the tray. “I can, and I will. Stop behaving like a brat and eat the god damn soup,” he growls.

“I said I can’t. If I eat that, I will puke it back up for the next god knows how long,” I bite back through gritted teeth. At that moment, my stomach lets out a deep growl in hunger.

He raises his brow. “You’ve taken the medication, so it should help. If you are sick, I will look after you. Now eat,” he growls.

I pick up the bread roll and snatch an angry bite from it. “Happy?!” I snap around a mouthful of bread.

His lips tip up in a smile. “Ecstatic,” he says before standing back up to his full height. I continue to glare at him as I eat, suppressing a moan as I taste the delicious soup. I will have to find out where he got it from and get some for myself.

He walks around my room, and I watch as he walks into my closet and pulls out my suitcase. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Packing your shit,” he states.

I stop eating. “What do you mean you’re packing my shit?” I press.

He exhales an irritated sigh. “Packing your clothes and whatever else it is that you want to take,” he adds. Holding out some of my dresses, he looks at them before placing them in my case.

“Take where?” I frown.

“Our home,” he answers as he walks in and out of my closet, shoving more and more of my clothes into my case.

I furiously move the tray of food off my lap and get out of bed. “I’m not going any—” I stop talking as I become lightheaded, feeling my feet stumble beneath me. Halting my movements, I press my hand to my head. “Woah,” I mutter as I feel the room tilt.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hap mutters. His arms wrap around my body, steadying me. My hands land on his biceps, and as I take slow breaths, the dizziness begins to ease. I blink, looking up at him, seeing his stern gaze. “Will you just take it fucking easy?” he snaps.

I frown. “Don’t tell me what to do,” I argue back.

He sighs, and without warning, scoops me up into his arms and places me back into bed before I can even protest. He grabs the tray and places it back on my lap. “Eat,” he growls. I’m not sure why, but with frustration coursing through me, I angrily poke my tongue out at him. His eyes alight with amusement. “That how you argue all your legal cases that aren’t going your way?” he teases. I grit my teeth and fold my arms across my chest, turning my head away from him. His hand firmly grabs my jaw, forcing me to look back at him. “You want to continue the brat behaviour baby, I will be more than happy to bend you over my knee, but as for right now, you need to eat your fucking soup,” he orders firmly before placing a soft kiss on my forehead and returns to packing my case.

I reluctantly eat my soup, allowing my mind to whirl. Never have I lost an argument. It’s literally what I do for a living. I never back down and I always manage to find weaknesses in people and take them down. However, with him, I can’t even seem to think of words to argue. It’s like my brain just shuts down. I don’t even know where he wants to take me. I haven’t even had a choice about what clothes he’s packing for me. I have never let anyone tell me what to do, not even Trent. Hell, even my mom and dad had said I was strong-willed, ever since I took my first breath. I finish the soup and move it to one side to get up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he snaps.

I glare at him. “To the bathroom. Is that okay, or are you wanting to control that too?” I ask sarcastically.

He strides towards me and holds out his hand. I smack it away. I’m not a fragile old lady. While glaring at him, I make a move to push past him, but I manage only one step before he scoops me up into his arms. I screech and try but fail to bat him away.

“Put me down,” I protest. He goes inside the bathroom, and I stand there with my bladder protesting, but like hell am I peeing in front of him. “Do you mind?” I huff.

“No,” he states, a serious expression on his face.

“I can’t pee in front of you,” I say through gritted teeth. “Give me some god damn privacy.”

“You’ve had my mouth, dick, and fingers buried in your pussy. I’ve seen parts of you that you haven’t even fucking seen,” he states firmly. My cheeks heat at the memory. “You are having my kid, and there will be a lot more I will see. Now I’m going to run you a bath. I will keep my back to you if that makes it easier for you,” he says before turning around and begins to run me a bath.

I keep my gaze on him as I pull down my shorts and lower myself onto the toilet. I breathe a sigh of relief as I relax enough to pee. He continues to pour bubble bath, swirling the water around the tub as he fills it. I quickly wipe and pull my shorts up before he turns around. I move to wash my hands, and once I’m done, I just stand there as he moves around my bathroom, pulling out fresh towels from the cupboard like he does it every day. He turns the taps off before he turns around to face me. As his hands grab the hem of my sports bra, he begins to lift it.

I clamp my arms down. “What are you doing?” I hiss.

“Bathing you,” he states, like I’m a moron for asking the question.

“I’m 39 years old. I’m very capable of bathing myself,” I state.

“I didn’t say you weren’t. I’m just telling you I’m bathing you,” he retorts.

I open my mouth to argue. “Er, no?” I answer, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

“Right, well while you think about what you want, I’m going to take your clothes off and bathe you. If you’re worried about it being sexual, I can assure you it’s not,” he states as his eyes sweep over me.

I’m not sure why, but that last comment bites. I know I’m not looking my best, and I know that being pregnant, I’m going to get big, and I’m going to swell, but hearing that stings more than it should.

“I can take my own clothes off,” I state quietly. Stepping out of his reach, I move past him and lift my sports bra off, then I drop my shorts to the floor. Keeping my back to him, I slowly step into the tub, lowering myself into the warm soapy water. Closing my eyes, I begin to enjoy the feeling of the water relaxing every muscle in my body.

I hear Hap moving around, and that’s when I see him kneeling by the side of the tub.

“Sit forward and tilt your head back,” he orders, and I do it.

Why? What is wrong with me? I think to myself.

As I feel the warm water cascading over my hair, I close my eyes. His fingers slowly begin to massage my scalp with my shampoo. Before he rinses it, he adds conditioner, then he rinses it again. I open my eyes to look at him as he leans over the tub.

“Relax,” he says softly in my ear, and my skin prickles with goosebumps. I watch as he squeezes some body wash onto his palms, rubbing them together before his hands are on my body, caressing me. I suck in a breath as his hands move over my chest, his index finger trailing over the outer part of my nipples, causing them to pebble. “They’ve got darker,” he states in my ear. His lathered hands move lower gently over the curve of the small bump. It’s small enough that I can hide it with my clothes, but from being naked, you can see it growing. “Is he okay?” he asks, his voice thick with concern as his hands cup my stomach.

I swallow. “She’s doing fine. It’s just me she likes to torment,” I answer truthfully. He takes my hand in his, and as he turns it palm side up, he squeezes a drop of body wash on to it.

“Wash yourself,” he instructs, changing the conversation. I tilt my head to the side to look at him, and as his eyes meet mine, he sees the question on my face. “If I touch you between your legs, baby...” His voice is deep in warning, and he pauses, as if trying to regain some composure. My eyes immediately lower to his lips, remembering how they felt.

“You said it wasn’t sexual,” I cut in, repeating his words back to him.

His hand cups my face, and he leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “Baby, wash your damn pussy,” he orders before leaning back.

My hand moves by itself, and I refuse to turn away from him. Keeping my eyes on his, I move my hand over myself. His eyes burn with desire, and I fight the urge to smile in victory. Instead, I move my hands to the side of the tub and push myself up to stand before I carefully climb out of the tub beside him, not giving him another glance. I grab a towel and wrap it around my body, but as I turn to face him, he gets to his feet and takes a step into my personal space. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t.

“Get dressed. We leave in 30 minutes,” he stated before he walked out of the bathroom.