Chapter 89 The Truth
CAITLYN'S POV
Collin walked over to the bed and stood looking down at me. I wanted to move away from him but I had nowhere to go. I was trapped between him and the headboard.
"The baby," Collin said. "Do you want to know the truth about the baby?"
"What about it?" I asked. Even though I was not sure I wanted to hear the answer.
"It is not mine," Collin said. His voice was matter-of-fact. Like he was discussing the weather. "I have always known it is not mine."
"How do you know that?" I asked. My heart was racing.
"Because I cannot have children," Collin said. "I am sterile. Have been since I was in my twenties. A medical condition. Irreversible."
"You knew," I said. "You knew the whole time and you did not say anything."
"Of course I knew," Collin said. "The moment you told me you were pregnant I knew it could not be mine. Simple biology."
"Then why did you not say anything?" I asked. "Why did you pretend it was yours?"
"Because it served my purposes," Collin said. "Having a pregnant wife made me look stable. Domestic. Like a family man. People trust family men. It was good for my image."
"So you let me think you believed it was yours," I said.
"I did," Collin confirmed. "And I let everyone else think it too. Let them congratulate me. Ask about the baby. Play the excited father to be. It was all an act."
"But you knew it was Jason's," I said.
"I suspected," Collin said. "That night you disappeared from the wedding reception. The night you spent with Cross. That was when it happened wasn't it?"
"Yes," I admitted. There was no point in lying now.
"I thought so," Collin said. "You came back different the next day. Guilty. Afraid. I knew something had happened. I just did not know what until you told me you were pregnant."
"And you did not care," I said. "You did not care that I had been with another man."
"I cared about the optics," Collin said. "I cared about what people would think. But the actual act itself? No. I did not care. You were never mine emotionally. Only legally. What you did with your body did not matter to me."
"That is sick," I said.
"That is practical," Collin said. "I needed a wife for appearances. You served that purpose. Whether you loved me or not was irrelevant."
"Then why keep up the pretense?" I asked. "Why pretend to care about the baby at all?"
"Because people expected me to," Collin said. "A man who does not care about his pregnant wife looks suspicious. So I played the part. Asked about doctor appointments. Bought baby things. Did all the things an expectant father should do."
"While planning to kill me as soon as the baby was born," I said.
"Exactly," Collin said. "The baby would have given me even more legitimacy. A grieving widower raising his child alone. Very sympathetic. Very trustworthy."
"You would have kept the baby," I said. "Even knowing it was not yours."
"Of course," Collin said. "The baby would have been useful. An heir. Someone to carry on my legacy. It did not matter that it was not my biological child."
"But now you are going to kill it," I said. My hands went to my stomach protectively. "You are going to kill both of us."
"I am," Collin confirmed. "Because the baby is no longer useful. It is just a complication. A loose end that needs to be tied up."
"It is an innocent child," I said. "It has not done anything wrong."
"It is Cross' child," Collin said. "And I am not raising my enemy's offspring. That would be humiliating."
"So you are going to murder a baby," I said. "Your own supposed child. That is what you are capable of."
"I am capable of doing whatever is necessary," Collin said. "I have killed before. I will kill again. It is just part of doing business."
"This is not business," I said. "This is murder. This is evil."
"Call it what you want," Collin said. "The end result is the same. You die. The baby dies. And I move on with my life."
"People will know," I said. "They will figure it out."
"Maybe," Collin said. "But by then it will not matter. I will be long gone. Out of the country. Somewhere they cannot touch me."
"You are running away," I said.
"I am relocating," Collin corrected. "Starting over somewhere new. Under a new name. With new connections. It is not running. It is strategic repositioning."
"It is cowardice," I said.
"It is survival," Collin said. "Which is something you do not seem to understand. You thought you could fight me and win. But you were wrong. I always win. That is what I do."
"Not this time," I said. Even though I did not believe it. "This time you lose."
"We will see," Collin said. He checked his watch. "But we are running out of time. I have things to do. Arrangements to make. You have to dispose of."
"When?" I asked. My voice was shaking. "When are you going to do it?"
"Soon," Collin said. "Very soon. I am just waiting for the right moment. The right opportunity."
"You are going to make it look like an accident," I said.
"I am going to make it look like you never existed," Collin said. "When I am done no one will ever find your body. No one will ever know what happened to you. You will just disappear."
"Jason will know," I said. "If he is still alive he will know it was you."
"Cross is dead," Collin said. "Or he will be soon. He bled out in that cabin hours ago. There is no one coming to save you Caitlyn. No one even knows where you are."
"You are wrong," I said. "Jason is alive. I can feel it. And he will come for me."
"Feel it all you want," Collin said. "It does not change reality. And the reality is you are alone. Trapped. About to die. And there is nothing you can do about it."
He walked toward the door and I realized he was leaving. Panic rose in my chest.
"Wait," I said. "Where are you going?"
"I have business to attend to," Collin said. "I will be back in a few hours. And when I come back we will finish this. You will die. The baby will die. And I will finally be free of you."
"Collin please," I said. I hated begging but I did it anyway. "Please do not do this. I will do anything. I will not testify. I will disappear. You will never see me again."
"It is too late for that," Collin said. "You made your choice when you betrayed me. Now live with the consequences."
He opened the door and walked out. I heard it lock behind him. Heard his footsteps walking away down the hallway.
I was alone. Locked in this room. Waiting to die.
I put my hands on my stomach and felt the baby moving. Still alive. Still fighting.
"I am sorry," I whispered. "I am so sorry I could not protect you. I tried. I really tried."
The baby kicked in response. It was telling me not to give up. It was telling me to keep fighting.