Captive

I blinked and opened my eyes a little wider, making sure I was seeing it right. Yes. There were two distinctive pink lines crossing in the circle. It was a plus sign, which meant …

I pulled the paper directions up from the sink and read them for the third time, just to be sure. And there it was. I was pregnant.

Excitement and foreboding swirled together inside me. This was what Ryke and I had been trying for. It was what we wanted. But memories of the baby I’d lost kept this moment from being completely joyous.

I tried to force down the sadness. My doctor said I could go on to deliver a healthy baby just like other women, even after having a stillborn one. And the beginning of a baby inside me right now was Ryke’s. The dark, beautiful man who owned all of me.

Would it have his black hair and perfect white smile? Would it be a boy or a girl? Questions danced in my head. I squared my shoulders and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. I was about to give Ryke the surprise of his life. I wouldn’t allow this moment to be anything but happy.

He was dozing beneath the covers as I approached, hiding the stick beside my thigh. I was almost to the bed when he cracked his eyes.

“Morning,” he said, his voice deep and sleepy. “Get back in here so we can make a baby.”

“I would, but …”

“But what? You’ve got plenty of time before work, babe.”

I held up the stick. “We already made a baby!”

He sat up with a celebratory yell and reached for me, sweeping me from the floor into the bed with him.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes! You knocked me up! Well done, Ryker.”

He kissed me hard, grinning when he pulled back. “Hell, yeah! We need to celebrate!”

“What do you have in mind? Breakfast in bed?”

He stripped the tank top off my head and reached for one of my bare breasts. “Later.”

I’d never been able to read anyone’s emotions based on their eyes alone like I could with my husband. Ryke’s caramel-colored gaze usually told me more than his words. And tonight, he was content.

We were in bed having a back and forth over who was going to turn off the light in the hallway. He said I should do it since I turned it on, and he had me there.

“But since I’m pregnant, it’s like asking the baby to turn the light off, and that doesn’t seem right. Baby doesn’t even have feet yet,” I said, smiling.

“That’s cheap,” he said, and even in the dimness, I could see the warmth in his eyes. “I’m considering turning the light off. But I need to know what you’ll do for me if I do.”

“Love you deeply for my whole life? You want something else, too?” My eyelids were getting heavy; this pregnancy, like my first one, had me feeling fatigued all the time.

Ryke groaned and the bed shifted as he got up. “You always know how to play me, baby. When’s the last time I said no to you?”

“Hmm?” I was fading fast. “Why would you want to say no to me?”

“You should probably be reminded occasionally who’s boss,” he said, and I smiled to myself at his teasing tone. “But you make it really hard to say no.”

“I think we should name the baby Pat,” I said. “Works for a boy or a girl.”

“No.” The last of the light in the bedroom disappeared, and Ryke’s bare feet padded across the wood floor back to bed.

“See? You put me in my place. Now let’s go to sleep,” I said. Ryke climbed under the covers and wrapped his large frame around my back. He settled his leg over mine and moved my long hair aside. When he was home, this was our go-to sleeping position. I missed it when he was on the road.

“When will we find out if it’s a girl or boy?” he asked. I didn’t even have to see his eyes to know he was excited about it.

“Mmm, about halfway through. Ten more weeks,” I said. A memory of the sonogram from my first pregnancy flickered through my mind. I would’ve found out I was having a daughter, but instead I found out my baby was gone.

“So you’re … ten weeks in, then?” Ryke said. “That went by fast.”

“We just found out I was pregnant five weeks ago,” I murmured. “And it hasn’t felt fast to me.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry you’re so tired all the time.” His lips skimmed over my neck and I nestled my body back against his chest.

“It’s okay.” I hadn’t meant it was passing slowly because of the fatigue. Every day I wondered if the baby was okay. The months ahead of me seemed like forever.

“We’ll go on vacation when my season ends. Someplace tropical where we can sleep in every day in a hut on the beach and I can give you massages.”

“I want a massage from Pete,” I said. The trainer for Ryke’s NHL team had golden hands. He’d worked out the kinks in my neck in less than ten minutes.

“Pete’s not massaging you,” Ryke said gruffly.

“Baby, Pete’s gotta be at least 50. And he’s got nothing on you. I wasn’t going to have him massage my clit or anything.”

“Don’t even joke about that. But talk about your clit some more if you want, that’s fucking hot.” His warm breath on my ear made me wish I wasn’t too tired to move. Even after more than a year together, he was still a rock star in bed.

“Love you,” I said, drifting to sleep.

“Love you, too.”

I woke up in the middle of the night feeling overheated. My back was sweaty and my thighs were hot. I moved my legs, trying to dislodge Ryke’s giant one from on top of them. He grunted and slid his leg back. As soon as I moved, I knew something wasn’t right. They were warm and slick and …

My heart leapt into my throat as I flailed in bed, my arm flying to the lamp on the nightstand. I flipped the switch, threw the covers back and was so shocked I couldn’t make anything come out of my mouth.

Blood. Everywhere. It was like a crime scene. The bed, my legs and my short pink nightgown were all stained red.

When I was finally able to draw in a breath, it came back out in a scream I didn’t even recognize as my own voice.

“No! Oh, God, please, no!” My heart was racing and my head was swimming. It was my worst nightmare. I reached down to my thigh and touched the blood to make sure it was real.

“Kate?” Ryke’s eyes were open now, and he jumped toward me. “Oh, fuck! Jesus Christ!”

I let my head fall back and I screamed again. “Ryke! I can’t do this! I can’t! I can’t do this again! You don’t understand!”

“It’s gonna be okay, baby.” Out of bed now, he ran around to my side. He reached down and picked me up gently. My body was limp, all my focus on the horror of living my nightmare of losing a baby again. I’d been scared to get pregnant, and I hadn’t celebrated like most women when I did. This was why.

Ryke laid me on our white down comforter and I tried to roll away. “No, no. I can’t do this, Ryke.”

He was faster than me. I was back in his arms with the cover wrapped around me. Without any energy to fight, I let myself cry. My body had failed me again. And this time, it had failed Ryke, too.

He carried me across the living room and I cried, drowning in memories of losing my first baby. Though I’d known it could happen again, I’d secretly figured fate owed me a giant favor after last time.

A strange voice made me aware that Ryke had called our apartment building’s front desk.

“Yes, Mr. Ryker?”

“My wife needs an ambulance right away. At the service entrance.”

I wailed again, realizing it was over. Not only was my second baby gone, any hope I had of giving birth to Ryke’s child was gone, too. I could never, ever do this again.

Kate’s face finally relaxed into sleep, and I slumped forward against her hospital bed, fatigue hitting me with full force. The steel chair I sat in didn’t feel so uncomfortable anymore.

The first rays of morning sun were shining through the edges of the blinds, giving me a sense of relief. It meant the worst day of my life was over. Watching Kate scream and cry while her dream literally bled out of her body had been the most gut-wrenching experience imaginable.

And I was responsible for her suffering, which made it even worse. How had I let this happen? I knew how terrified she’d been to get pregnant again. We’d met at a grief-support group, for Christ’s sake. I shook my head and laid it on the bed, nudging my forehead against her hip. Her warmth radiated against my skin through the thin bed sheet that covered her.

Gone was the light, sweet scent of coconut I associated with my wife. Now she had the metallic scent of blood that I knew well from hockey fights. That scent had always meant war to me — an adrenaline surge, a chance to knock the piss out of some asshole on the opposing team. But on my wife, it made me feel the opposite. Powerless. Weak. Wounded.

At least she was okay now. The heat of her body reminded me of that. She’d be devastated when she woke up, but at least the goddamn blood wasn’t pouring out of her anymore. I’d almost grabbed the doctor who treated her and told him he better get his shit into panic mode. He’d been so calm and cool about Kate bleeding and screaming and sobbing.

I probably would’ve cried myself, if I hadn’t been so focused on trying to calm her down. It was hell, seeing my beautiful wife suffer that way. The look on her face when I woke to her screaming my name wasn’t something I ever wanted to see again. It sent a shot right through my chest, a physical pain that was just starting to dull.

I wanted to crawl into bed next to her and hold her so she’d know I was here. The nurses had pumped so much sedative into her IV to get her to sleep that she probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, and I didn’t want to risk waking her now. My forehead against her thigh would have to be enough.

My eyes refused to stay open any longer, and they’d been closed for a few seconds when the sound of footsteps made me lift my head.

“Ryke!” It was Lynn, my mother-in-law, her husband Dale right behind. Her gaze landed on Kate and she covered her mouth, her eyes welling with tears.

“Is she …?”

“She’s sedated,” I said in a low tone. “Heavily.”

“You said on the phone she had a miscarriage?” Lynn’s eyes, the same brown as Kate’s, met mine. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant. How far along?”

“Ten weeks. She didn’t want anyone to know, because … you know …” I ran a hand through my hair, not wanting to explain.

“I know. But I’m her mother, she should’ve told me. Do they know what happened? The doctors?”