Acts of Mercy: Part 2 – Chapter 27
Acts of Mercy: A Stepbrother Romance (Men of WRATH Book 5)
The orange juice tastes like chalk in my mouth. Hudson came home last night, but it was like we were playing a game of hide and seek.
He never came to see me and whenever I sought him out, it appeared Iâd just missed him.
âAlyssa, you really should try to eat something. Maybe I can get you some ginger ale and crackers?â Rosa raises a brow, her words implying she knows my predicament.
Iâve had my blood drawn three times now, but Iâve yet to receive a call from the doctorâs office. Iâm not sure if Iâm pregnant, and if I am, if itâs even viable.
Either way, my stomach is in knots. The combination of not knowing paired with Hudsonâs weird mood is throwing me for a loop. The last thing I want is to eat anything.
I shake my head no, looking up into Rosaâs warm eyes. âHave you heard from Hudson this morning?â
âYes. I just dropped off his morning coffee in his office. He was on a call, so we didnât speak. Is everything okay?â Her worried gaze lands on my stomach, and I know she has an inkling of whatâs going on inside me.
âEverythingâs fine.â I shake my head and try to put on a believable smile. âIf youâll excuse me, Iâm going to go find him.â
I get up from the table and make my way into the hall when my cell phone rings. Iâve been waiting to hear from the doctorâs office all week long, so Iâve been carrying this thing around like itâs my lifeline.
Looking down, I see Dr. Bowerâs name light up on the screen and a blanket of panic settles in my gut. This is it. With fumbling fingers, I press the button to answer. âH-hello?â
âYes, is this Alyssa Rogers? This is Dr. Bowerâs office.â A cheerful voice answers, and the flutter of hope finds its way into my heart.
âYes, this is her.â
âOkay, the doctor wanted you to come in for another ultrasound. Your HCG levels seem to be right on track and she wants to see how things are progressing now that a little more time has passed.â
I let out a breath I didnât know I was holding, relief hitting me like a blanket of warmth. âThis is good, right? This is good news.â
âI canât comment as to that, but I can say that the levels presented in the tests are consistent with a healthy and viable pregnancy.â
Viable. Thereâs that word again, but this time itâs laced with hope and joy.
I swipe a tear away, the feeling of happiness overwhelming. âThank you.â
âOkay, my first available appointment is this coming Monday at eight a.m. Will that work for you?â
âYes. Of course.â Even if it hadnât, I wouldâve moved heaven and earth to make it possible. Itâs currently Friday morning and Monday canât get here soon enough.
âGreat. Weâll see you then.â The line goes dead and Iâm left there standing, staring at the screen.
âWeâre pregnant,â I whisper, as if saying it any louder will make it untrue. Thereâs still a part of me that holds fear, one of which I know wonât subside until I see the sac and hear the heartbeat.
Even so, this is a step in the right direction, and I canât help but feel happy. Happy that Hudson and I have created a life together, springing from our love.
Hudson. Itâs time I told that moody man of mine the news.
With a newfound purpose, I walk toward his office, my heart beating wildly with every step I take forward. He wanted this. The look in his eyes, the feel of his touch on me. Thereâs no doubt in my mind he willed this into existence.
Then why am I so damn nervous?
I push the large wooden door open, revealing a tired Hudson behind his desk. As soon as his eyes meet mine, he shoves what heâd been holding into a drawer. âAlyssa. Can I help you with something?â
His tone is cold, and his eyes are tortured. Whatâs going on?
âHudson. Whatâs happened? Why are you so different?â My voice comes out soft and squeaky, my heart unsure if it can withstand whatever Hudson has to say next.
A lone tear rolls down my cheek and itâs like the thing is a beacon, springing Hudson into action. Within a second, heâs right in front of me, wiping it away before his hands are cupping my face possessively.
âIâm so sorry, Little Red.â He brings his lips to my forehead, whispering the words against my skin. âIâm so, so, sorry.â
A choked sob escapes me. This feels like goodbye. This feels like heâs letting me go. âHudson.â I bury my face into his chest, inhaling him and needing to get closer. âPlease donât.â
Hudsonâs chest rumbles. A sound akin to that of a wounded animal reverberates against my cheek.
Before I know whatâs happening, Hudson has me pressed against a wall, his hands traveling desperately all over my body, needing to find a patch of bare flesh.
With one firm tug, my sundress is tattered, Hudsonâs hungry gaze devouring every inch of exposed skin. âFuck, Iâm going to hell for this.â
His words have me furrowing my brows, but before I can ask him anything his lips are back on me, traveling down the column of my neck then grazing over my collar bone before finding their home on my hardened nippleâthe peak jutting out and needing his attention.
I groan his name, needing answers but needing him inside me more.
âShhh, no words, Little Red.â He places his thumb over my lips, silencing me as he presses the thick digit into my mouth. âSo warm. So wet. So perfect.â
I take his fat thumb, swirling it erotically with my tongue and sucking it like Iâd like to do to his cock. God, I love everything about this man, especially the pulsing member pressing against my stomach.
With his free hand, Hudson pulls himself out, pushing my soaked panties to the side with the head of his erection. âJust the tip. Baby. Just the tip.â
My eyes narrow, confused as to why heâd be holding back. Fuck the tip. I want it all.
Unable to hold back, I tilt my hips up, meeting his gentle thrust into my channel.
Hudsonâs jaw clenches and his eyes form into tiny slits as his hands dig into my hips. âFuuuuuuck. Iâm so sorry.â With one rough thrust, he rams into me, gritting out apologies with every pump forward. âIâm a sick bastard, but I canât help it. Youâre fucking mine. Youâll always be mine.â
His words paired with the intensity of his stare make me ripple around him, shamelessly coming around his glorious cock within moments of his entry. âHudson. God, I love you.â
Hudsonâs eyes widen at my words, his hands stilling and keeping me pulled right to his root. With a savage groan, Hudson spills into me, his eyes glinting with regret, pain, and⦠shame?
The world stills and our breathing halts. What just happened?
Hadnât we moved past the whole step sibling thing? I know it was a huge hurdle for him but the last time we were in my bed he assured me we were real. That we were together, no matter what.
I have a million questions; I donât even know where to begin. But Hudson isnât on the same page.
He pulls out of me, his eyes on the evidence of our love dripping down my thighs.
Pulling his sweats up, he jerks his face to the door, unable to look me in the eye after the most intense lovemaking Iâve ever experienced. âNever again, Alyssa. This canât happen again.â
And just like that, my heart shatters into a million tiny shards. Without a glance back, Hudson walks out of the room. Leaving me there, used, broken, and alone.
Tears begin to spill uncontrollably. My mind is a whirl with what couldâve changed him. I was so sure of our love, of our bond as a team. It was us. We were real.
My mind flashes back to whatever he shoved into his desk. Maybe that can provide some insight into his complete one-eighty.
Wiping away tears with the back of my hand, I walk toward whatâs hopefully my answer.
With a tentative reach, I pull open the drawer.
My heart stops and my throat clogs. Itâs my pregnancy test next to a DNA kit. What the fuck?
Blinking rapidly, I try to sort through the reasons for why he could possibly want a DNA test after finding out we were pregnant.
One name flashes front and center. Julie.
He doesnât think the baby is his. Does he think Iâd try and trap him like Julie? Is that why he never wants to sleep with me again? Not until he knows if the baby is his?
My head is spinning and absolutely nothing makes sense. All I know is that Iâve been discarded like a used condom. Thrown away after his discovery of my pregnancy.
My hands reach down to my flat belly, and a fundamental sense of overprotectiveness rolls through me. My baby will never feel the sadness of rejection. They will never feel like a mistake, and I sure as hell wonât let their own father make them feel this way.
I know what itâs like to grow up feeling like a mistake and thereâs no way Iâm going to let that happen.
Itâs time I put my baby and myself first. Screw whoever else stands in our way.