She rolls her eyes and makes a noise in the back of her throat. “I hit one thing. One.”

  “One more than me, and you drive like a grandma, so that takes real skill—or lack thereof.”

  “You’re stupid.” She raises her hand, showing me her middle finger.

  I shrug. “At least I’ll be alive.”

  Pike stalks over to us and throws his arm around Gigi’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he asks his wife.

  “He’s afraid to drive with me.”

  “Smart man,” Pike teases, earning himself an elbow in the ribs. “Darlin’, we all have our strengths, and driving isn’t one of yours.”

  “I’m surrounded by assholes,” she grumbles.

  “Baby,” he whispers, pulling her against him before planting a kiss on the side of her face with a smirk. “You love me.”

  She sighs, sagging against him. “You know I do.”

  My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket as I’m reaching for my keys, refusing to get in a car with anyone except myself. I glance at the screen, seeing Ana’s name. “Hey,” I say as soon as I answer, hoping she’ll give me a reason to get out of the rest of the evening.

  “Something’s wrong,” she says, her voice rushed and her breathing heavy.

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening. Not again.

  My eyes dart to Pike and Gigi as my stomach sinks. “What?”

  Ana’s dealt with enough shit during her life; she doesn’t need to add to it.

  “Something’s wrong, Trace. I’m bleeding. Help me,” she begs. “I need you.”

  “I’m on my way. Be there in five.”

  “What’s wrong?” Gigi asks, no longer leaning against Pike.

  I rush toward my truck, knowing I don’t have a minute to waste. “Something’s wrong with the baby.”

  “The baby?” Gigi calls out. “What baby?”

  “I don’t have time for this shit now,” I tell her as I open the door and climb inside.

  There’s no time for anything. No questions. No thoughts. Nothing matters except for Ana and her little one. They’re at home and alone at a time when I need to be there. Someone has to be there for her. Everyone in her family has failed her, and her own father made it perfectly clear that she isn’t high on his priority list.

  I pull away, leaving Pike and Gigi with stunned looks and nothing but my taillights and the dirt kicked up by my tires to fill their view.

  A warm hand touches my shoulder, waking me. “Honey,” the soft voice says.

  “Mom.” I turn, finding my mother’s sorrowful smile, but her eyes are on Ana.

  “Is she okay?”

  I wipe the sleep from my eyes as I stand. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I think so.”

  “We’re here for whatever you two need,” my dad says, always the supportive father and the best one any person could ever have.

  “Thanks, Pop.”

  Mom pulls me into a hug, rubbing my back like she always did when I was a child to console me. “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker for her and probably you too,” she says in my ear. “But this too shall pass in time.”

  “I’m already bracing myself.”

  “You can’t prepare for something like this,” Mom says like she knows.

  I pull back from her embrace until I can see her face. “Did you…?”

  She nods. “Once. I’ve never experienced a grief quite like it either. Not before and not since.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Mom,” I tell her truthfully. “Where do I fit in? How can I help her? What do I do?”

  My mom slides her soft hand down my cheek until she cups my jaw. “You just have to hold on and let the ride take you where it will, baby. You can’t prepare for this. You can’t plan how you’re going to handle every emotion that’s going to roll your way. It’s going to be like a turbulent storm. Just hold on and know that nothing lasts forever, not even darkness.”

  “Thanks for being my mom,” I say, always feeling that sentiment but never voicing it.

  “You boys made it easy.” She smiles, dropping her hand from my face.

  “Don’t listen to your mother. You boys were not easy in any way. Still aren’t,” Dad says as he moves to the other side of Ana’s bed and stares at the hospital monitors like he has any idea what all the numbers mean.

  Mom leans into me. “He’s a pain in the…”

  “I can hear you,” Dad says before she can finish the statement.

  “Anyway.” Mom waves her hand at him. “Everyone’s here.”

  I swallow and furrow my brows, confused. “Who?”

  “The entire family.”

  “Fuck,” I groan. “Why?”

  “Gigi put out the call, and everyone rallied around because they love you and they care for you and your new wife.”

  “Ma…”

  She puts up her hand. “I don’t care how this marriage started or why, baby. But the way you’re lying at her bedside tells me there’s more to it than you want to tell me, or maybe you haven’t been entirely truthful with yourself.”

  “I don’t know, Ma. I don’t know anything right now except I want to take away whatever hurt she’s feeling.”

  My mother takes my hand. “You’ve got to let her feel it, Trace, but you can be there for her through it all.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “It’s all you can do,” she says with a squeeze.

  Ana stirs in the bed, drawing our attention and ending our conversation. “Trace,” Ana whispers, blinking slowly as she tries to focus.

  I rush to the side of her bed, taking the seat I’d been planted in for what has felt like hours. “Hey,” I say softly and sweetly, grabbing her hand and lacing our fingers together.

  “The baby,” she says as her eyes widen, and the realization of what happened no doubt crashes over her.

  “I’m sorry, Ana.” I glance down, finding it hard to look her in the eye. My parents’ shadows move to the other side of the room before they vanish.

  Her hand grips mine harder as her body begins to shake. “I don’t know how to feel right now.”

  “I don’t think there’s any right or wrong way to feel,” I tell her, stroking the top of her hand with my thumb as I finally look up at her beautiful, tear-stained face.

  She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a few long, deep breaths. “I’m being punished.”

  I do my best not to react. Whatever she’s feeling and wants to say, I need to give her the space to do so. “For what?”

  “Everything and anything.”

  “You’re not being punished, love.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I raise my arm and touch her face. “The universe doesn’t work that way. Sometimes bad things happen to good people.”

  “Am I good people?” she asks, looking at the ceiling.

  “You’re very good people, Ana.”

  “A good person doesn’t force someone to marry them,” she whispers.

  I stand and move to the bed, planting my ass on the mattress next to her. “You didn’t force me, and you’re a good person because you rescued me.”

  “I didn’t set you free.”

  I carefully lie down next to her, placing her hand in mine before staring at the same spot she is on the ceiling. “I never asked you to, and if I’m being honest, truly honest, the last handful of days have been some of my most peaceful.”

  She turns her head, looking at my profile. “Mine too, before…” Her hand moves to her stomach. “Trace, how am I so sad over a baby I didn’t plan and wasn’t sure I wanted?”

  I lift her hand to my lips, giving her skin a soft kiss. “Grief doesn’t make sense sometimes, but that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is wrong.”

  “Yeah,” she says before starting to cry again.

  I roll to my side, pulling her body over to mine. She curls against the length of me. I stroke her hair, letting her go through as many emotions as she needs to.

  My heart aches for her for so many reasons. Her father is an asshole. Her brother is a madman. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in her life she can count on…except me. The truth of that hits me square in the chest.

  In a few short days, she’s invaded not only my life, but my thoughts too. And if I’m honest with myself, she’s stolen a little bit of my heart. She’s awakened feelings in me that I didn’t even know were possible.

  Ana’s head comes to a rest on my shoulder, but her face is buried in my shirt. “Maybe it’s my punishment for thinking of the pregnancy as a problem that needed to be solved or being ashamed.”

  I wrap my arms tighter around her. “Ana, it doesn’t work that way. You’re not being punished.”

  She makes a small noise but doesn’t say another word. We lie in silence as I think of all the ways everything has gone haywire lately. Although I wasn’t into being a stepfather, I never wanted this for Ana or the little one she was growing inside her.

  My mom peeks her head into the room, instantly spotting Ana curled into my body, asleep. She mouths, “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “I’ll call later,” I mouth back.

  She gives me a sad smile before her gaze drops to Ana. My mother’s face says a million things without speaking a single word. It must have been two decades since she experienced losing a baby of her own, but the pain is still etched all over her face. My mom waves before pulling her head back and closing the door.

  I grab my phone, sending out a message to the group.

  Me: Thanks for coming tonight. Ana’s not up for visitors, and I’m not leaving her side. You guys can go. I’ll explain everything soon.

  If I were closer to the waiting room, I’m sure I’d hear a collective groan.

  Carmello: Understandable. We just wanted you to know we’re here for you two. We didn’t need to talk. You’re family, and so is she.

  Rocco: We have your back. Text if you need anything, and I mean anything.

  Tamara: They may not want to talk, but I sure as hell do. Take care of yourself, little cousin, and your girl too.

  Gigi: We love you, dummy, even if you eloped without inviting us.

  Pike: You don’t need to be invited to everything, darlin’.

  Gigi: Hush it.

  Mammoth: You two are literally in the same room.

  Gigi: Shut it, bud.

  Lily: Call no matter what time of day or night.

  Jett: Preferably in the day. I like my sleep, which is too hard to come by with the kids. After ten would be best.

  Lily: He’s an asshole. Ignore him.

  I smile, loving and envying the relationships they have with one another. It’s something I’ve never had before, but now I feel like I’m closer to it than ever. But no matter what, I never wanted it to come at anyone else’s expense, and right now, my wife is hurting.

  I lie with Ana in my arms for hours. The only reason I wake up is because the nurse comes in at the beginning of her shift to let us know that Ana will be released within hours since she’s stable with no further complications.

  Ana shifts in my arms, listening to the nurse talk about counseling to deal with her grief and what to expect from her body with the hormonal changes.

  The entire conversation goes by in a blur. I have more questions than answers, but the nurse reassures us that we’ll receive a packet of papers to explain everything.

  “Can I get dressed?” Ana asks the nurse before she walks out of the room.

  “Of course. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ana rolls off the bed and moves toward the bag that holds her clothes from last night.

  “Babe, you can’t wear those,” I tell her before she has a chance to open the bag and see her clothes covered in blood. I should’ve thrown them out, but I didn’t. It slipped my mind because I was too wrapped up in the emotions and none of the fine details.

  “Fuck,” she hisses, her shoulders slumping forward, making her hospital gown fall forward. “I need clothes. I can’t walk out of here like this.” She points at her ass, which is bare and sticking out of her gown.

  “I’ll run home and get you something to wear.” I climb off the uncomfortable bed and grab my keys off the small rolling table to the side. “I’ll be back in thirty.”

  She closes her gown in the back before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thank you,” she breathes, sounding completely relieved. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Figured as much,” I mutter, giving her a small smile. “Be back.” I lean over, kissing her cheek without a second thought.

  I don’t look back. I don’t say anything else. I have one thing to do and that’s to make it possible for her to come home and recover…whatever that entails.

  When my feet hit the pavement in the parking lot, I stop moving and give myself a moment to collect my thoughts. It’s been a fucked-up ride. A kidnapping. A marriage. A miscarriage. Sprinkle in a visit from her father and my parents, and things have been completely chaotic, like being on an out-of-control roller coaster without an emergency brake.

  We need a breather. A way to reset. And I am going to do my damnedest to make sure we get it.

  15

  ANA

  “Do we have to leave?” I ask, staring out at the waves as they crash on the white sand. “It’s so peaceful here. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “We can come back,” he promises me.

  There’s no place like the Bahamas, with the white sand beaches, turquoise waters, and sunshine. Florida doesn’t even compare. It’s close, but there’s something about island life that hits different.

  I sigh. “I needed this.”

  I stare out across the horizon, thinking back to everything that’s happened. The pain of losing the baby still cuts deep, but I hadn’t even allowed myself to think much about being a mom before I lost it.

  Would I even be a good mom? What do I know about parenting after having one of the worst fathers in human history. He’d be an awful grandfather. The kid would’ve had no one but me, and at times, I’m a bigger mess than anyone.

  “Hey,” Trace whispers, brushing his fingertips across the top of my hand.

  I turn to face him, liking the view just as much as that of the sparkling water. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  I shrug. “As good as I can be, but I will be okay eventually.”

  He gives me a sorrowful smile. “Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen.”

  I don’t know what I did to deserve such a wonderful person in my life. He’s given me days in paradise, away from everything, to feel what I needed to feel and work through all the thoughts that have come at me from all directions.

  The grief.

  The guilt.

  The shame.

  The three emotions have been battling it out inside me since the moment I left the hospital.

  At times, shame wins. Shame for more than just getting knocked up and hearing my father’s harsh words in my head about being a whore. But shame for losing the baby too.

  The guilt has been the heaviest. I spent so long wishing I wasn’t pregnant and chastising myself for being careless. And after losing the baby, I blamed myself for everything. Maybe somehow I caused my body to reject the little thing growing inside me. Even though I’m smart enough to know that’s not how it works, it didn’t stop the emotion from overtaking my thoughts.

  I grieved for what could’ve been. For the life I could have had and they would’ve had. I have no memories to grieve like when you lose someone you’ve had in your life for years. I grieved a dream. A fairy tale. No pictures to clutch. No clothes to smell. I grieved what I had allowed myself to think was possible before it was snatched away in a split second.

  I grab his hand, giving his fingers a soft squeeze. “You’ve done enough, Trace. Honestly, you’ve done more than anyone has ever done for me. I don’t think I would’ve made it through this without you.”

  “You’re strong, Ace.”

  I’m not, though. My exterior may be hard as a rock, but inside, I’m that little girl always seeking acceptance. But with Trace, I don’t feel like I need to be anything except me. I’ve never once felt judged. He’s never ridiculed me or made me feel less than him. It’s an odd feeling and something I’m not sure I’ll ever get completely used to having in my life.

  “Are you coming home with me?” he asks, his gaze searching my face. “Or are you…”

  “Can I?”

  “Can you what?” His eyebrows furrow. “Can you come home with me?”

  I nod, biting my lip. I want nothing more than to escape into his world. I’d found it oddly comfortable and easy compared to the life I was used to. “Yeah.”

  “Baby,” he whispers, and my heart leaps at the sweet softness of his voice. “I want you there, but only if you want to be there.”

  “I want to be there.”

  I need to be there, too. I need his calming force, his sweet affirmations that he doesn’t even realize he gives to me. Each touch of his hand, swipe of his fingers as he moves my hair away from my face. Every time he’s near me, my entire being seems to shift downward into a tranquil place I never knew existed.

  But another thing is looming over us. We married for the wrong reasons. I needed a baby daddy, and he needed protection. My father and brother no longer have Trace in their sights, and I no longer have a baby who needs to be legitimate and fathered. We have no rational reason to stay married, and although I could stay like this forever, he deserves an out.

  “Do you think we should get a divorce?”

  He drops his hand and twists his body until he’s sitting up and facing me. He digs his toes in the sand and leans over, placing his elbows on his knees. When he lifts his face to mine, I see a swirl of emotions. “Do you think we should get a divorce?” he repeats, directing the question to me.

  I don’t claim to be a Trace expert, but I know he’ll follow along with whatever I want. “Trace.”

  “Ana.”

  I move and sit the same way he is, staring right at him. He stays silent, watching me carefully, but I can’t maintain the eye contact. It’s too much. Too real. Too raw. “You had a life before me. You fulfilled your part of our agreement. I’m sure you want your freedom back.”