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Authors: Megan Thomason

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A whimper escapes Zander’s mouth, and I caress his back, just the way he likes, until his sleep deepens. Despite being only three months old, Zander is already a heartbreaker. Dark-brown hair, deep-blue eyes, extremely cuddly. He makes me work for a smile, being much more serious than Evvie. When he does smile, he takes my breath away. I kiss his forehead as well. “Oh my sweet baby boy. I feel it. He’ll be here soon. And then everything will change.”

Dark memories surface, and a tear involuntarily runs down my cheek. Not an hour goes by when I forget. This fight has never been more personal. They stole a piece of me—
my child
—and I will make them pay.
Be grateful for what you have.
With as much loss as I’ve faced, this is easier said than done. I slowly inhale, repeating the breathing exercises I learned during months of therapy. My heart rate slows. After one last look to check to make sure the babies are sound asleep, I trudge to the bedroom next door.

You can do this
. Change into my daygown. Brush teeth. Wash face. Slip into bed. No one should be so dependent on anyone else or so fearful to be alone. I whisper a silent plea to him. “Come home. I need you.” As I drift to sleep, I can feel a day terror coming but am helpless to stop it.

Four months prior: Heart, Thera

Jax took over a
waterfront shack on the outskirts of Heart that acted as our “safe house.” Many attempts had been made on my life, so he had insisted we retreat to Arbiter home turf for protection. Being eight months pregnant and feeling as large as the shack, my top priority was a soft bed—to attempt sleep at day—extra pillows, and a close restroom. I waddled to the water’s edge twice a night to cool my swollen feet and to keep my muscles from atrophying. After being on the run, I appreciated the refuge. Heart smelled heavenly—the salty, tropical air helped clear my mind.

Heart was built on a collection of islands in the exact shape and location of the Great Lakes on Earth. Surrounded by ocean, these islands were Thera’s paradise. Where Garden City, my previous home, topped 150 degrees at day, Heart hovered between 100 and 120, cooler at night. Comparatively “lush” foliage dotted the sparsely populated islands. Our tiny abode sat at the tip of what would be Lake Huron in a protected bay far from the “Crossover Center,” which was the focal point of Arbiter activity.

The Arbiters managed the crossover of those who died on Earth in need of a second chance at life. They “collected” them from Earth upon their death, brought them to the Crossover Center, removed their memories, and delivered them to one of the SCI-controlled cities. I didn’t understand how the Second Chancers got them replacement bodies or whatever, but the whole thing creeped me out, so I didn’t ask.

It felt like years since my Cleave-in-law, Vienna Darcton, had banished me from Garden City and sent my Cleave, Ethan, back to law school on Earth. In that time, I’d had a months-long mental breakdown, been trained in the ways of the Daynighters and Arbiters, traveled the Theran globe, and been relentlessly pursued by assassins. All while carrying the babies of the men I loved—or thought I loved.
 

Time, distance, and new responsibilities put many things in perspective for me. Love could manifest in many forms, and not all were a deep, eternal kind of love. Sometimes love was simply a wolf in sheep’s clothing—another emotion disguised as love. Infatuation. Loyalty. Lust. Convenience. Friendship. Stability. We knowingly and willingly draped the lesser feelings in costume because we feared failure. It could be better to pretend your significant other was the one than to admit you settled for anything less than the Holy Grail of Relationships.

A week into our stay, Jax left to get supplies and returned with food, prenatal vitamins, and visitors. Blake and Bailey. Although Jax had let me know they were together, seeing it still hurt. But my discomfort paled in comparison to the physical pain on Blake’s face. While Bailey had hold of his hand, I carried his child. Bailey scowled as Blake took in my basketball-sized abdomen.

“How? Why?” I muttered to Jax. I didn’t need to use words to communicate my disgust at seeing Bailey again. At seeing her
with
Blake.

“Our dear friend Vienna Darcton was kind enough to inform Blake about your pregnancy and that we’d gone off the grid. He’s been searching. We happened upon one another at the Cross.”
 

I glared at Jax. “Happened upon? Yeah right.” Jax’s lip twitched at my insinuation. I knew he never left anything to chance. Ignoring Bailey, I addressed Blake. “It has been a while.” He looked about the same. Thin. Runner’s build. Striking emerald-green eyes. But his dark hair had long since lost the platinum highlights, and he had a new scar along his jaw. Both he and Bailey wore clothing I couldn’t associate with any Theran city: nondescript khaki, lightweight long-sleeved tops and darker pants. But the biggest shock was Bailey’s lack of makeup and her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun.

He pointed at my belly. “I knew, but it didn’t seem real until now.”

“Plenty real for me,” I quipped. “I’d invite you to feel your baby kicking, but I’m not sure which is yours and well…” I glanced at Bailey and clenched my teeth to keep myself from uttering an unkind word—or thousand—about her.

An awkward silence stretched for twenty-odd seconds before Bailey spoke.
To me.
“You’re huge. You look like hell.”

“I prefer to look it than to be a product of it…” I gestured to her. Then I turned to the man responsible for her presence. “Jax, a word…” I dragged him into my bedroom and closed the door. I pushed him against the door and jammed my belly against him to keep him stationary.

Jax leaned towards me. “They were making menaces of themselves—asking where
you
were—and getting
noticed
. I assumed you would want me to keep the father of your child out of harm’s way and avoid him leaving a trail that led straight to our front door.” He brushed a sweaty strand of hair away from my eyes, and then rested his hands on my shoulders. “Besides, I’m due to leave for a couple nights. I figured that Blake could keep an eye on you.”

“Yes on the keeping Blake safe. No on Bailey. And why on Thera would you leave me for two nights with Blake
and Bailey
? What did I ever do to you?” His expression softened, and he smiled showing off his dimples. He knew to use the dimple card.
 

“I could make a list, love…” He paused to chuckle and run his hand through his unruly, blond hair. “Or we could go entertain our guests. Besides, I need you and those babies safe. And you are hardly in a position to defend yourself against a threat.” His hands moved to my belly in a protective fashion, and then he briefly bent over and kissed my tummy.

“Sure I can. If an assassin comes my way, I’ll just sit on him,” I said with a smirk. “Instant suffocation.” He didn’t need to tell me that my lame plan wouldn’t combat a bullet. Bullets hurt. And kill. I should know. “Fine. You entertain Bailey. I’m sure you will find her as special as I do. I’ll catch up with baby daddy.” He bent over and put his forehead against mine. At least one baby gave him a swift kick for compressing my belly.

“The last time I was alone with that girl, I do believe I forgot to erase her memories. She annoys me.” Bailey annoyed Jax? That had to be a sight to behold. Most people found
Jax
annoying.

Jax got me up to speed on Bailey’s crossover, lack of memory loss, and her current efforts to organize both Exiled Second Chancers and Second Chancers within each city. Then we returned to “entertain” our guests. I kept my conversations with Bailey to a minimum, refusing to respond to her barbs and only discussing her efforts with the Second Chancers. Jax hovered and kept the peace the best it could be. I had almost no one-on-one time with Blake. Not that I wanted it, but I could tell he was frustrated. Several times he asked to “chat,” saying that we needed to “discuss his leaving Garden City and everything that followed.”
 

One morning before sunrise, after Jax had left for his nights away on business, Blake cornered me while Bailey was in the shower.

“We should talk. I need to explain…things.” He motioned for me to sit next to him at the kitchen table.

“Blake. It has been almost nine months. I’m over it. Does it really matter now?” I replied. He covered my hand with his. So familiar, yet completely foreign.
 

“Yes, it does. We’re having a baby together. Gads, Kira. I panicked. I couldn’t do Vienna…my mother’s bidding. I wasn’t ready for something serious, much less a lifetime of serious. And I couldn’t watch you Cleave Ethan. My whole life I prepared to be a soldier in my father’s fight. I wasn’t prepared for you. For us. For this.” He pointed at my belly. “I’m still not. It scares the hell out of me.”

“You think I was prepared for this?” I shook my head. “I didn’t have much choice. The SCI isn’t too big on any choices that aren’t
their
choices. What’s done is done. Big picture: I’m on the run. People want me dead. And, I’m having these babies whether I’m ready or not.”

“And how do I fit into the big picture?”

That’s when Bailey entered. It turned ugly fast. She yanked Blake’s hand from mine and growled like a cougar protecting its young.
 

“I am
not
Cleaved to you, Bailey. So I can talk to her if I want to. She’s carrying my child for Gads’ sake. Just let us finish the conversation.”
 

Bailey took a moment to ponder Blake’s words. And then slammed a right hook to his jaw. That could explain how he got his other scar.
 

Tears welled in Bailey’s eyes—from the sting of the punch or from Blake’s defiance, I couldn’t be sure. She turned and stormed out of the house.
 

Blake watched her leave and ran a hand along his jaw. Without looking at me he said, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be back after I talk her off the ledge.”

I watched him leave, wondering how he could possibly get involved with her. It wasn’t any of my business or my problem anymore, so I busied myself getting ready for bed. I figured they’d be back long after I was sound asleep, and I left the front door unlocked so they could get back in. So, I startled when I heard the front door open so soon. Maybe Bailey was more reasonable than I thought? Still, I planned to stay out of it and silently tiptoed to my room through the dark hallway.

As I grabbed the door handle, a hand covered my mouth. Then I felt a needle pierce the skin of my neck.
 

I collapsed. My body went limp, leaving me helpless with no way to fight back.

My assailant dragged me to the main room and hefted me onto the table. I was paralyzed but alert. My eyes were still open, yet my vision was blurred. I saw enough to know my attacker was a middle-aged, balding male. Taller than Blake but shorter than Jax.

The perpetrator moved into the kitchen. I heard water run at the sink. Scrubbing. Jostling of tools? I tried to eke out some words to ask what he was doing…what he had planned for me, but my vocal cords were frozen along with the rest of me.

He moved back over to the table with a tray, but I couldn’t see what was on it. I heard a ripping sound and then he secured my arms and legs to the table with duct tape. Why he bothered when I couldn’t move wasn’t immediately apparent. Then he lifted my shirt to expose my abdomen.
 

No, no, no, no, no.
Don’t hurt my babies.
I willed Blake and Bailey to return and take him down or scare him off, but it didn’t happen. This scenario was
not
covered in the edition of
What to Expect When You Are Expecting
that Jax smuggled on to Thera for me.

The man jabbed a needle into my side. I could feel it but was powerless to prevent it. Then he carefully donned a pair of gloves—the kind commonly seen at a doctor’s office. A liquid was poured over my abdomen and wiped clean. An antiseptic smell filled the air.
 

He picked up an instrument.
 

And then he sliced me open.

Blood poured from my belly.

Pain flooded my senses, battling sheer despair for brainpower.

Another incision was performed to reach the babies.
 

The pain was unbearable. I had never felt anything even close to it. And, I couldn’t even avert my eyes to avoid seeing the disaster unfold.
 

Baby one was pulled out. The man held the baby up to show me it was a boy. A perfect baby boy. My love for him, my need to protect him—instant and overwhelming. A loud cry followed. And then, he tucked my baby away from my sight. I screamed and screamed and screamed. But no sound came out.

The man dug around my open abdomen to lift out baby number two when the front door opened.
 

A high-pitched screech of terror leapt from Bailey.
 

Blake immediately attacked. A kick connected with the man’s kidney, causing him to falter for a moment.

Only a moment.

The man managed to grab a gun from his satchel of tricks and pointed it at Blake.

Bailey and Blake raised their hands in defeat.
 

The man ran towards the door, gun still trained on Blake, a crying baby in his bag as he exited.

Blake stared at the door but didn’t move. A few, long moments later, Jax rushed through it. Jax took one look at me and all the color left his face. Blood everywhere. My innards on display. An unfinished C-Section in progress. His tear-filled expression told me everything I needed to know.
 

I was a lost cause.
 

But maybe he could save the babies?

His devastated expression turned to one of anger. “You—” He grabbed Blake harshly, “—are responsible for this. You left her alone? I
trusted
you to keep watch over Kira and your unborn child. If anything happens to her, I will not be accountable for my actions. Do you understand?”

Blake glanced at me, heartbroken, and then back at Jax and nodded.

“Go after him. Gather any and all clues you can. Do it now. Get that baby.”

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