Custom Built (Fast & Fury #1) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,62

I know something is wrong.

“Why won’t you look at me?” I ask, squeezing his hand. “Crow, it’s me. Whatever it is, just tell me. Did Jasper get away?”

He shakes his head. “No, babe, this has nothing to do with Jasper.”

“Then what?” I press.

“You had a miscarriage,” he says, voice hitching. He sits back down and finally looks me in the eyes, and I can see how red they are.

He’s been crying.

I’ve never seen Crow cry before.

It takes me a few seconds to process what he just said. A miscarriage? “I was pregnant?” I ask, blinking slowly.

He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “The stress of what happened with Jasper...”

I was pregnant, and I had a miscarriage. And I didn’t even know that I was, so I couldn’t even enjoy the moment, or the surprise.

When will Jasper stop taking from me?

Covering my face with my hands, I take a few deep breaths.

How cruel this world can be. All I’ve ever wanted is to be a mother, and just as I had given up on that idea, I was given what I’d always wanted and also had it taken away on the same day. I didn’t even know if I could ever get pregnant, especially while on the pill, and now I’ve landed myself in this mess.

I don’t even know what to say right now. I’m speechless.

How much can one person take?

I didn’t even know I was pregnant, and now my obsession with finding Dad’s killer has made me lose the one thing that might have made me feel whole again.

When I cry, Crow cries with me.

Nothing else could have kicked me more while I was already down.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Later that week, I sit on the floor in the shower, just replaying that night in my head. What could I have done differently? What would have happened if Crow and Temper hadn’t shown up? What if I didn’t stay late at work? Would I still have lost my baby?

The guilt and regret and the what-ifs are just eating me inside.

Crow comes in with a glass of red wine and I turn off the shower, hop out and drink it greedily. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anything else I can get you?” he asks, pushing my hair back off my face and staring down at me. “How are you? Don’t shut me out—I need you to talk to me and let us get through this together.”

It was his baby, too, and I know he’s just as sad as I am. Maybe because he knew how much I wanted it, and how much shit life has shoveled at me this month alone.

Maybe because he wanted it, too.

I nod. “I will be. I just can’t stop thinking about it and wishing I never stayed late.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But we don’t know what could have happened. He might have followed you, and we might have even lost you. We just can’t think like that, okay? You’re fine, and that’s all that matters to me. I don’t know what would have happened if I lost you, Bronte. I can’t lose you.”

I know exactly how he feels, because without him, I would be incomplete.

“It just hurts, so badly,” I whisper.

“I know,” he replies, kissing my temple. “I know. I wish I could take the pain away from you. I’d do that in a heartbeat. I’d carry all the pain for the both of us.”

I believe him.

“I don’t even know how I got pregnant,” I say. “I’m sorry, Crow. I told you I couldn’t and then this happened...and—”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he says to me.

“The doctor said there was a low chance that I’d get pregnant because of everything going on, with my problems with ovulation and being on the pill. It was such a small probability he didn’t even think it’d happen. He also said...”

“What?” he asks, squeezing my hand.

“He says the abnormal cells have returned even though I only had the surgery months ago,” I say, swallowing hard as I try not to get emotional about it.

“Bronte—”

“I’ve accepted that was a possibility. The abnormal cells just keep returning, and there’s only so many times they will remove them before wanting to take the next step. But now, after knowing I can get pregnant... Maybe I could put it off. I don’t know. Maybe there’s a little hope for me?”

“Babe, you need to tell the doctor to do what they need to do to keep you safe,” he says, scanning my eyes. “They know best.