You Betrayed Me (The Cahills #3) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,154

harder-edged now, returned. “You’re going to be a father.”

“A what?” Had he heard her wrong? “A—?”

“Father,” she repeated smugly.

“No. Wait. Are you kidding?” What was she saying? This had to be wrong. But the expression on her face convinced him, and his heart dropped to the floor. The room seemed to shrink, and he put a hand out to steady himself against the wall. Her words echoed through his head. A father. You’re going to be a father . . . For a second he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

“Not kidding. Uh-uh. I’m pregnant, James.” The hard edges of her face cracked, and tears came to her eyes, her voice softening, her smile now tremulous. “I know it’s a shock,” she said, her voice sounding as if it came from a long distance away, “but it’s true.” As if she had anticipated his reaction, she reached into the purse she’d slung onto the floor and extracted a stick, an implement he recognized as being a part of a pregnancy kit.

Holy shit, she wasn’t kidding. His heart thudded, resounding in his ears. This couldn’t be happening! Couldn’t!

“Go ahead,” she encouraged and reached over to snap on a light.

His eyes adjusting, he focused on the little bit of plastic. Every moment of his life had ended up here.

He swallowed hard.

Picked up the stick.

Read the indicator.

True to Sophia’s words, it read POSITIVE.

The floor seemed to buckle.

“I know this is hard to take in, but trust me,” Sophia said, a tremulous smile on her lips. “This is a good thing. Trust me. The best! You, James Cahill, are going to be a daddy.”

CHAPTER 45

December 10

Rebecca tossed and turned, sleep eluding her.

Hours passed, the digital clock mocking her as her thoughts swirled with images of her sister.

1:18—Megan at seven, riding her bike and crashing, her pigtails askew, her knees and palms scraped and bleeding.

2:33—Megan, twelve, sobbing and clinging to Rebecca when she’d found out she’d been cut from the junior high play.

3:07—Megan, her hair freshly streaked at sixteen, returning home and upset, as she’d been fired from her first job at the Burger Hut because she’d been found smoking weed in the parking lot with an older boy. “It’s just not fair,” she’d complained over and over.

3:42—Megan, an adult, crying wretchedly and begging Rebecca to take her in as her boyfriend had taken all their money and the rent was due on their expensive town house.

4:11—Megan, just this year, a gleam in her eye, admitting she was “in love” with James Cahill and was moving to Riggs Crossing to be with him. She hadn’t meant to hurt Rebecca, not really, it had “just happened.”

Rebecca had hated her sister then.

Had sworn she’d never help her again.

And now—Megan might be dead. Rebecca had to face that damning fact. Ever since learning about Megan’s car being found abandoned in a mountain cabin, the deep-seated fear that Megan was no longer alive had been gnawing at her, chasing away any chance of sleep.

“Enough!” Rebecca said aloud, sitting upright and flinging off the covers. She threw herself out of bed and felt a lump the size of Montana in her throat, her eyes stinging as tears threatened.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d believed that Megan would be found alive, possibly injured, but alive! Now, though, with the discovery of Megan’s abandoned car, it seemed as if Megan was truly gone, as if she were dead.

Don’t give up hope. You don’t know that!

Until they find her body.

Oh. God.

She had to do something.

She couldn’t just sit in this hotel room and wait for news, cling onto a little thread of hope and pray that the police would locate her sister.

What if Megan were still alive? There was still a chance, right? If so, Rebecca had to find her.

She stalked to the small bathroom, used the toilet, and twisted on the shower. She thought of the two women who lived here and had been found murdered. Had the same fate happened to Megan?

Don’t go there!

Angrily, she threw off her oversized T-shirt and kicked off her underpants. Then she stepped under the shower’s hot spray and closed her eyes, the water stinging against her skin before washing over her. The pressure from her mother was unrelenting. She’d have to do some detecting on her own because she was the one who understood her sister better than anyone else. She thought about the last time she’d tried to snoop and how James had caught her in his house. She’d have to be more careful, just find