Possession (Fallen Angels #5)(67)
Author: J.R. Ward

“You and I have a lot in common,” Sissy murmured. “Hell takes a lot of forms, doesn’t it.”

“You’re too young to know that.”

“Not young anymore.”

He was beginning to really believe that.

“Do you want the rest of the story,” he said gruffly. “Yours, that is.”

“Yes.”

Jim felt like he was sinking into quicksand again as he chose his words. They might as well finish this, though. “Devina came while we were here. My boys had to knock me out by force—they knew if they’d let me stay, I would have fought her and probably lost. It was early times for me—shit, it feels like a million years ago. But I did return. By then? She’d cleaned the place out. Everything was gone, even you.” He rubbed his eyes like they hurt. “We found you later.”

“Where?”

“The quarry.”

Sissy frowned. “The one out by—”

“Yeah.”

“Dear Lord …” she whispered. “My poor parents. My sister. My grandparents.”

Her hand went to her stomach and she made an expression like she was nauseated. Couldn’t blame her.

After a moment, she said, “When you were little, and you got punished … did you ever picture yourself at your own funeral? Because I did—I used to imagine that my mom and dad were in tears, regretting every ‘meanie’ they’d ever done to me. That was such a wrong thing for me to do.”

She grimaced as she shifted around, and he was reminded they were on a cold, hard floor—except then she rubbed her belly as if it hurt.

“Are you okay?” he said. “You want to get out of here?”

“I feel like I have indigestion.”

“Why wouldn’t you.”

Jim got to his feet and offered a hand. As she took it and he pulled her up, she grunted, and couldn’t seem to straighten.

“Sissy?”

“My stomach …” She lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it up—“Oh, God! What is that!”

He had no f**king clue, at first. But then, he knew: Across the flat, pale stretch of skin, there was a pattern in the flesh, a pattern that was glowing as if lit from within.

Devina had carved it there as part of the ritual.

“Get it off me …” Sissy started rubbing. “Get it off me!”

Jim captured her hands and bent down. That red illumination was all wrong, he thought. It was emanating from within her…

He carefully lowered the shirt back into place. “Let’s get out of here. And then we’ll see what we can do about it, okay?”

Sissy grabbed onto the shirt and held it in place, a look of stark terror distorting her beautiful features. “What if she’s inside me?”

Jim shook his head, even as the back of his neck tightened. “Not possible.”

And then he said the one thing that, later on, he would come to regret: “You’re mine.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Cait spent the afternoon counting down the hours.

After leaving her date with G.B., she went home, sat at her desk … and checked the time about every twenty minutes or so. She did get some work done, however, although it was the difference between walking at the side of the road and being in a car going sixty-five.

Forward motion, but only in a relative sense.

She and Duke were meeting at six, and so, after some tense negotiations with her Guilt-o-meter, she decided to give herself an hour to get ready—which was outrageous, but seemed necessary. And then considering she needed fifteen minutes to drive into town, she was therefore allowed to get up out of her chair at four forty-five.

Don’t wear a bra.

Putting her pencil down, she had to close her eyes as her body responded—

Her phone went off next to her, ringing loud in her silent house. As she grabbed for it, her heart pounded. Please, please, let it not be Duke canceling…

Unknown phone number. “Hello?”

“… Cait?…”

As the male voice sank in, she sat up in confusion. “Thom?”

“Hi.” Her old college boyfriend cleared his throat as the greeting came out funny. “Sorry, hi.”

“Well, ah, hi. How are you?” In her head she did the math. The last time she’d spoken with him had been about six months ago—and he’d been very sure that he and the girlfriend were pregnant. Three plus six equals nine.

“I’m good, thanks. And you?”

They were both stilted, but then, come on. They’d nearly gotten engaged—up until he’d cheated on her. And now he and the woman were pregnant—actually, had no doubt just had a healthy, beautiful boy or a girl.

“Good, good, thank you.”

In the silence that followed, for some reason, Cait remembered exactly where she’d been sitting when he’d rung her phone for their previous call back in November. She’d been upstairs in her bedroom, ironing clothes, and she’d kept it together during the five- or six-minute conversation. Had also been honestly glad he was telling her in person before the news got out within their network of buddies.

After she’d hung up, though? She’d turned off the lights, gotten into bed, and cried for about six hours.

Next day she’d joined the nearest Bally Total Fitness.

“I just wanted you to know … that we had the baby. Early last night.”

As she reclosed her eyes, her first thought was that she was thrilled she was meeting Duke in about an hour and a half. To hear this news without having her date to look forward to probably would have resulted in another day under the covers.

Her second? Was that, as before, he didn’t come across as if he were gloating, or showing off his good fortune. No, Thom seemed almost apologetic, just as he had when he’d told her about the pregnancy—he was clearly trying to do the right thing in a difficult situation.

“I’m so happy for you.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the other woman’s name. That hadn’t changed even with Duke on the horizon. “I really, truly am.”

“I wanted you to know before, well, everyone else does.”

“What’s his or her name?”

“We’ve named him Thomas, after me.”

“That’s great. You must be so excited.”

“I am. I mean, this wasn’t planned, but … sometimes life is like that, you know?”

Tell me about it, Thom. “Yes, I know. When’s the wedding?”