Not happy

Not happy

The room was filled with people, all waiting for me to speak. I'd locked myself inside the bathroom, fear spiking through me. Splashing cold water over my face, I turned off the faucet and grabbing a towel. A knock sounded, and I turned to glare at the door. Metal scraped against it, and before I could call out, Saint entered.

I backed up, shaking my head as my strength left me. "I can't do this," I whispered thickly, fighting to stay strong when everything was too much. Coming home was too much, and telling them the truth, after I'd fought so hard to hide my demons. "My father was a monster.

He was horrible, Saint."

"I know, Brat. I know he was."

"Why would you tell them?" I demanded, tears trailing down my cheeks as Saint stepped closer, pulling me tightly against him. His scent flooded the bathroom, soothing the ache in my chest.

"Cole Van Helsing's men found a video of a girl calling my name.

He brought it here to see if we could help identify the victim. Her face was hidden from the camera, and she was gagged to prevent her screams from being heard. When Harold removed the hood and the gag, she screamed my name. Cole assumed I would know who it was. We use the videos to search for marks or tattoos or anything in the room we could use to identify the victims. You screamed my name re-peatedly. You screamed for me as he slashed your face open. I heard your voice, and I froze. Everyone inside the room knew it was you, Brae."

me. "You saw it," I cried, hating that he'd watched my father torture

"We all saw it, Brae. We've watched your father do unspeakable things to you on many videos without ever knowing it was you. You're one of the victims we've been searching for."

"I'm not a victim!" I hissed, pushing him away.

"You are a victim. You're also a survivor. Braelyn, you were a child

when the sessions began, but you didn't let that monster break you or your spirit even then. You kept this pack alive and placed them in front of your pain. You were fucking eight years old. I failed you, Brat. I didn't see that you were in pain. No one did except Chaos."

"I hid it from him," I whispered.

"You thought you did, but he saw you. Where we all failed to see beyond the mask you wore to hide, Chaos sensed you were sad. A child noticed your pain where everyone else failed you. I failed you, Braelyn. I can't ever take that back. I don't deserve you, and I know I fucked up."

"So did I, Saint," I whispered thickly, holding his stare. "My world didn't exist without you in it, and I couldn't protect you and the pack. My father promised me you'd be allowed to leave. I thought you were free of him. I wasn't strong enough to protect everyone, not when I was barely able to protect myself."

Saint nodded, pressing his lips against my forehead. "If you can't talk about what happened, you don't have to. I'll clear the room out, and we will just sit in silence if that is what you need." He lowered his hand, brushing it against my belly, and our daughter jerked beneath his touch. His hand flattened on my stomach, holding it against where her foot moved. "I'm going to guess she will be as fierce and strong as her momma."

"As stubborn and bullheaded as her father," I snorted as his lips jerked into a disarming smile.

"Either way, she's ours, Brat. I can't wait to meet her."

A sob ripped from my lungs, and my hand moved to smother it.

Saint pulled me against him, kissing the top of my head as our baby continued to kick, sensing the unrest in my emotions. I hadn't expected an unborn child to know her mother's feelings, but she seemed to react to every mood swing or upset I experienced.

"Gods damn, we fucked this up, didn't we?" he asked, rubbing his nose against the shell of my ear as I laughed. "I'll have Jacob bring you some herbs. He assured me that they're not harmful to you or the babe. I'll try not to smother you, but I'm going to be honest here, Brae-lyn. I went out of my mind when we found that raft, and the shit that went through my head? I never want to feel that helpless or scared again. I'd rather be back in that cell wondering which brand of torture I was going to endure than to know if you're alive of dead."

"Then I guess you better behave," I replied, as he pulled back, peer-ing down at me.

"I will chain your ass to me, Brat. You hear me? I will handcuff you to me before I ever have to send cadaver dogs down this mountain to find you. You're my fucking world, and that will never change, nor has it," he promised, searching my face. "You and me, we're forever."

"You don't get me back that easily, Saint. You broke me, and all I ever did was try to protect you. You left me in a storage container for Carleigh and Lucas to torture, and then you left with the bitch that strung me up in my home. Now that you know the truth, you know I never did anything out of malice or to hurt you. You can't say the same. You wanted me to feel helpless, but I already knew how those women felt. You wanted me to know what had run through their minds as they sat in the dark, cold pit of despair. My entire life has been a never-ending pit of agony that I couldn't escape. I saved myself, and the one person I wished would come back to me? He did, but he didn't come back to save me. You came back to punish me."

"I did that," he admitted, swallowing hard while holding my gaze. "I also forced you into heat and bred you. I left you unprotected to go with the children to ensure everything possible was done to save them. I assumed Lucas was your friend, and my only fear was that he'd free you so that you could run from me. I left Carleigh here to ensure that didn't happen, and she hurt you. That's on me, and I fully take that blame. I'm not sorry that we're going to have a baby, Brae. I've dreamed of this since the moment I knew you were mine. I can't be sorry for being this happy that you're having my baby."

"Shut up," I groaned, hating that I wanted to hit him and kiss him at the same time.

"You're not happy about the baby," he stated.

"I'm having your baby. I've only ever wanted your baby, Saint. I can't be mad about her. I want her, and I want you. I just don't know how we'll ever get past this or how to move on from here," I admitted.