I've been so busy; but I know that it's not an excuse.

That's why I haven't been updating. But don't worry. I'm back to being a busy bee again.

Song of the Chapter: End of Me-ADTR

(38)

The gate was wide open. So was the front door, I could tell at this distance. My clenched up fists were shoved down my jeans pockets, eyes staring at the house which I thought I'd never look back for the rest of my life. But here I was, standing a step away from entering the confines of my...home. The house itself looked gloomy. It was still three in the afternoon, which meant Stephen was not home. His car was nowhere to be seen, and I assumed he was at his office. So...who was living there other than him?

My chest tightened, and my feet threatened to step back. But I'd have to go in. I'd have to talk with him. And it would be the final talk we'd have, hopefully. And it'd be the star point of me moving on. Again, hopefully.

I sighed, hurrying to the house. The sooner it was done, the sooner I could leave. The spark of pain that ignited within me grew as I took steps closer to the house. I wasted a second before going in and immediately wrinkled my nose at the foul smell. A hint of alcohol lingered in the surroundings, along with the damp smell of not having fresh air running through the house.

My heart stopped when I entered the living room. He was there, lying motionless in the couch, half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the stool along with another drink I did not recognize. That's what he had been doing all these days? Drinking and pushing himself to an open eyed coma?

His once emerald green eyes looked dull, dry and hazed, staring into nothing. I took the bottles, noticing that he still had not seen that I was there. It took me a minute or two to drain the bottles through the sink with the faucet open so the water would wash out the smell. I knew it didn't matter; he'd just buy some more. I replaced myself on the stool.

"Haven't I told you not to drink this much? Or at all?" I started, roaming my eyes all over his handsome face. Yes, he still looked good, although he had dark bags under his eyes and lost some of his muscle mass, the worn out look on his face made him look like an old man. His eyes snapped to mine, and they started to sparkle. He struggled to sit straight in the couch, and when he did, he reached out for me, a desperate little sound escaping from his lips.

"Don't," I moved a fraction back, ignoring the shot of pain that rushed through me and keeping my face still. His hand dropped to his lap, and the sparkle in his eyes died.

"Why did you leave me?" He whispered, the expression on his face twisting into many emotions like he was still debating whether I was real or not.

"I asked a question first," I insisted, leaning a bit forward and bracing my elbows on my things and clasping my hands tightly together in front of me so I could see them; So they won't betray me and touch Stephen. The damn traitors would do anything that I didn't give permission them to.

"Is that why you're really here?" He chuckled bitterly. "To see if I'm drinking myself to death."

"No one talked about dying here," I said, locking my hands tightly as they itched to caress Stephen's unusually pale cheek. "I just don't want you dying. Can't have you making me a spinster when I'm..." I stopped my damned mouth.

"Baby?" He reached out to touch me again and I pulled back completely, straightening my spine.

"Don't call me that," I hissed, wrapping my arms around myself. "And don't touch me. You lost that right when I stepped out of your house that night. And I don't think you need an explanation as to why I left you."

Stephen hid his face between his hands, and I thought I caught a hint of his shoulders trembling. I looked away to gain back some courage, and then looked up to see the small of the corner of his left eye I could see glistening with tears. I gave him a minute. "Look... Look at me when I'm talking to you, Stephen."

It was like our roles were reversed. He was the Randy when he first married, and I was the cold hearted Stephen who was the notorious heart breaker. Except that I broke his heart for life. Not for sex. When he finally looked back he had his emotions under control. Buried in the darkest pitch of his head, even, just like he used to do in early days. His dead eyes landed on mine, waiting for me to continue. "How is she?"

"Do you really care?" His voice was bitter, despise coating his words.

"No," I replied, "I just wanted to see if you're taking care of her and the baby."

"Are you really expecting me to take in a pregnant woman into my life when I have you?" His eyes narrowed.

"You fucked her when you had me. So why not baring the consequences?"

"Randy!" Stephen hissed, making a disgusted face.

"How far long is she?"

Stephen pursed his lips to a thin line, examining my slim to none expression on my face. He couldn't find out what I was feeling inside. No, I wasn't letting him. "Tell me, please," I said when he kept silent.

"Almost about three months," my heart skipped a beat at his words. He was honest, I could tell. Stephen did cheat on me, but then again I could also tell he did not cheat. He could have slept with this woman before or just after first few days of our marriage. It was when me and Stephen was not even on the same book, let alone the same page.

"Forgive me," he grabbed my clasped hands and brought them to his lips, but just before he pressed his lips on them I pulled back.

What he did was still wrong.

"You shouldn't have done that," I let a hint of regret and guilt fill my voice along with newly born anger. It angered me that he had still gone to that woman, even though we weren't a thing back then. I had a fair reason to be angry, had I not? I admitted that I had overreacted over the situation; that I did a stupid thing by leaving him when it seemed like it was a time he needed me the most. Yet I was being cold towards him.

"You forgave everyone, Randy," he whispered defeatedly. "You forgave my father for putting you in a situation like this, you forgave him for burying the way you got hurt. Hell, you even forgave Brock!" He breathed heavily, and then locked his jaded greens with my eyes. "Why can't you forgive me?"

The look he gave me was so broken, so grave and heart wrenching, that I had to clench my fists to resist the urge to take him in my arms and comfort him.

"I didn't forgive him, Stephen," I dropped my eyes, unable to bare his pain. "I just...tried to forget." And I still couldn't. The pain still was alive and it being with this new pain... This new pain that was coursing through me was enough to make me numb to everything around me. And it was rushing up my spine, tingling at the nape of my neck, hollowing inside as if it was sucking the life out of me. That was exactly how I felt when I was sitting there, barely a foot away from Stephen, prohibiting myself from touching him.

"Stephen," and the feeling intensified, something crawling inside my head. "When did you first touch me?"

His brows furrowed, glistening eyes narrowing in confusion. My chest tightened, abdomen tightening. I wrapped my arms around my own waist, taking effort to rub my abdomen. "Don't lie," I added in a weak whisper. His eyes flew wide open, his body going rigid all of a sudden. A few seconds passed with deafening silence between us, me keeping my gaze on the floor as he finally slipped to the ground to kneel between my legs.

His hands cupped my face, and this time, I didn't pull away. "It wasn't me, baby," his quivering whisper reached to my ear, and I whimpered, realizing what he said. It wasn't him... It was... "It was Brock's. Not mine."

I buried my face against his neck, holding onto him as my body trembled uncontrollably. "He... He said even you didn't know when... when he had..." He trailed off, his hands tightening around me.

"Why?" I let out a dry sob. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to hurt you any more than you've been hurt. You didn't know what happened. I... I thought, why bothering you with things you didn't know about. I'm... I'm sorry," I hated how honest he sounded. I clung onto him, savoring the faint scent of vanilla and spice on him as much as I could before I had to leave. A weak punch was hit at his back, and I cursed silently at him. The fucking bastard had the nerve to apologize for trying to protect me from being hurt.

By something that I did not even know existed. By something that I never thought was possible. I didn't know how to feel. How to react or what to say when I found out that there had been a child of another man inside me... Like right now; when I was carrying a part of Stephen with myself. "You knew that I was capable of getting pregnant." That wasn't a question.

Stephen's lips landed at the crook of my neck. "I didn't... I just...guessed." He let out a shattered breath. "How... How did you get to know?"

"Dr. Stratus."

Stephen jerked away from me. His hands cupped my face, his worry dripping eyes boring into mine. "Are you okay?"

I looked away, diverting my gaze to the floor again. "No," fell out of my lips.

"Randy?"

It didn't matter. I was already trapped. I was right when I thought of him as a snake; and just like I had thought, I got poisoned. And now I was owned. I pulled away from him, standing up and leaving the house. I heard his footsteps behind me, but I didn't look at him, even when he caught my arm and stopped me.

"Please don't go," he begged, gripping my wrist tightly.

"I'm not taking another person's place," I insisted, jerking my chin upwards.

"What?"

"I want a divorce," his fingers around my wrist tightened painfully and I fought to stay unphased. "You should take care of her. She's... She has more right to you than I have."

"No," he growled, all the sadness in his eyes disappearing with on flicker and anger rearing its ugly head.

I sighed frustratingly. He was making this hard for me. I had perfectly planned out this scene before I entered the house, but his antiques wasn't letting the show flow as it should. But then again, I knew he wasn't going to let this flow smoothly. "Please..."

"I said, no, Randy," the answer was clear. I nodded faintly, looking at the empty road ahead of me.

"Don't think I'd let this go," I said, screwing my eyes shut for a second. "As soon as I can, I'm filing for it, if you're not."

"Don't be ridiculous," he hissed, tugging me. I wrenched my hand out of his grasp, glaring with all the hate I could muster up inside me.

"I'm not being ridiculous, Stephen," I spat, pushing him back with all I had. "The exact three months of the arrangement your father had made with me for this marriage expired the night I left this house!" My voice raised by the passing word. "Don't you see? He got what he wanted. His son, tamed to the man he wanted him to be. It didn't matter if I got hurt, it didn't matter if secrets would have kept me away from being a part of the family," I stopped, catching my breath, "It didn't matter if it cost me my life... The deal," I whispered, "Is over."

I spun around, heading beeline to the gates with silence creeping up behind me.

XXX

I tossed around in bed, my burning eyes not letting me catch some desperate sleep.

"I'm sorry," everyone always apologized. But did they really mean those words? "I didn't know we were having a ba-"

"We weren't," it was my voice, but it wasn't me. It didn't feel like it was me.

"What I did was wrong," he hung his head, his once icy cold eyes hiding from me.

"I'm glad you know," I tilted my head to the side.

"Randy," his eyes again locked with mine, roaming all over my face. The way he called my name, I'd say he looked and sounded pathetic. "What happened to you?"

I remembered that as the same thing Hunter had asked me about a month ago. It'd been one and a half month since I had left the whole world behind me. I arched my left eyebrow, linking my hands together. "Nothing."

"This is not you," his whisper echoed in the nearly empty room, his cuffed hands trembling violently.

I wrapped my arms around my mid section, my hands brushing over the barely there baby bump, painfully reminding me that this was the reality.

"Who do you think I am?"I heard myself snicker.

His eyes dropped from mine again. It was as if he couldn't hold my weak gaze. I knew I was weak, but at the same time, I was strong.

"How is he?"

"I don't know," it was honest.

"You're not with him?"

"I'm with someone else," that was a lie.

"You're lying."

"Don't act like you care," I hissed, slamming my hands on the table. Time was wearing thin, and I knew I had to leave soon. But I wasn't going to embrace the fears I had brought in here with me when I leave. His flinch almost made me wonder. What had they done to him? Or better, what had he done to himself?

"If you would ever forgive me-"

"I have," he knew it was yet again, a lie.

But he nodded anyway. "Will you come here again?"

I stared at him for a second. "Maybe."

My eyes snapped open. I sat up in the bed, groaning lightly and dragging myself up against the headboard. I wiped a hand down my face, sighing. My whole body felt like it had been run over by a bus. My lower body was numb, and my stomach twisted in nausea, but I swallowed back the bile that rose up my throat.

I would keep us alive, somehow. In one way or another.

I stretched my legs out, noticing that I had more space in the bed that I'd usually need. I squinted my eyes to blink away the blur and noticed that I was alone. It was past one in the morning, and Hunter wasn't here. I dragged myself out of the bed, wincing slightly as a jolt of pain shot through my abdomen. Fucking cramps. Cursing quietly, I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, before going downstairs. Dave was snoring loudly, fast asleep in the couch.

Dave was home, but not Hunter? I remembered him saying he'd be back before midnight before my shift ended in the bar, but still, he wasn't here. Frowning, I walked to the couch and shook Dave. He grunted, and turned his back to me, shoving his face into the pillow. Grimacing, I shook him harder.

"Wake up, D," I yanked the blanket off him, and hit his back.

"Wha da fu..." he mumbled, peeking an eye open. "Go ta sleep, kid."

"Hunter's not home, yet," I worried, chewing on my bottom lip.

"He will come, he jush need ta..." and Dave fell back asleep.

Glowering at the non-cooperating big guy, I stood up, walking to the kitchen. It took only a few seconds for me to dial Hunter's mobile. I leaned against the counter, my heart digging when no one picked up the phone as the fourth ring sounded. Was he asleep? But he said he'd be back home... a voice inside my head told me that I was worrying unnecessarily. Just as I was about to disconnect the call, it was answered. But no one spoke.

"Hunter?" I whispered.

"Hello, there," my eyes widened.

"Where's Hunter?" I hissed, my fingers curling around the phone in a death grip. I feared something had happened to Hunter, and I feared that I wouldn't be able to do something before it was too late.

"Oh, he's here," Gunner chuckled, and the faint sound of a dull thud was heard. "don't you worry, little one."

"Fuck you," I spat. "If you've hurt him, I swear-"

"Whatcha gonna do?" he cooed, and the laughed again, before hanging up the phone.

"Dave!" I shouted, grabbing the hoodie I had left on the love seat, pulling it on. "Dave, wake the fuck up!" I screamed at him causing him to jump awake. "Hunter is hurt!"

"Wha-what?" he almost fell off the couch. "What's going on?"

"Gunner has him," I gritted out, sliding into the worn out sneakers.

"Stay here," Dave grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the door. "You're not going there."

"I wasn't asking you for permission," I hissed, yanking my hand back and running through the door out into the cold night. A few seconds later I heard Dave catching up behind me. I ignored his calls for me to stop. I ignored when sharp jolts of pain rushed through my lower body. Though I couldn't help one time when a whimper slipped out of my lips.

I didn't even wait to catch my breath before I barged in the bar, almost falling to my knees at the force I had put upon my body. The whole area in front of me was empty. There was no one in the bar, not a sound in it. But all the lights were on. Dave stormed in a second later, and I turned to face him with a blank expression on my face. Was this not the place? Had Gunner taken him to somewhere else?

"Get down," Dave shouted suddenly, putting his hands on my shoulders and shoving me down. Someone who had come up behind me had hit Dave with a baseball bat, and he had barely missed it. I scrambled to my feet, kicking the man in his groin, and noting that another two was coming our way. Dave caught one of them, punching him in the gut and I ducked when the other tried to catch me, kicking his back. I sprinted to Hunter's office, not even caring that Dave had to hold off three men at once.

"Stop," I screeched, shoving Gunner away when he aimed another punch at Hunter's already bloody face. "Leave him alone."

"I knew it was you," he spat out blood and spit to the ground, clenching and unclenching his hands as I knelt in front of a barely conscious Hunter, trying to hide his body behind mine. He muttered a painful get off, but I didn't move an inch as Gunner stepped towards us. "I knew you'd come..."

"If it's me you want," I gulped, not understanding what was going on. "Let them go. I-I'll stay."

He laughed. "What the fuck would I do with you? I just wanted you to be here," he sneered, "To see what your beloved has ordered me to do."

"What?" I gasped out. Stephen...

"That..." he circled a finger in the air, pretending like he was wondering. "That Rhodes guy... Your husband?"

A sigh of relief escaped from my lips, but then I shot straight up in alert. Cody?

"I'd have never thought that such a sweet thing like him would get revenge on someone like you," Gunner dramatically sighed. "But then again, it's you we're talking about, little slut."

I bit down on his fingers when he caught my chin. Hissing, he yanked back his hand, and then grabbed a fistful of my hair bringing me to my feet. I whimpered when my back crashed against the wall. His hands closed around my throat, squeezing tightly, as he breathed into my ear. "He told me to beat you to a pulp. Should I?"

"No...please," I choked, writhing against him.

"Give me one good reason not to."

"I'm... pregnant," suddenly, his fingers around my neck vanished, and I fell onto my knees. I heard him back away, but then again with a roar, he charged back. I waited for his blow, cringing to a ball against the wall. But nothing came. I watched with wide eyes as Hunter threw him back, his fist connecting at Gunner's face. Gunner glared back and forth at me and Hunter, and with a snarl, he spun around, and left. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, a broken sigh leaving my body.

"You didn't tell me," Hunter croaked, trying to help me up but almost falling onto me. Blood was running down his nose, and there was a cut right above his eye, but he didn't seem to care about that.

"I didn't want to," I hooked an arm around his shoulders, helping him to stand up and made him sit on the table. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothin-"

"Hunter, please," I silenced him when Dave came in, having a broken nose himself.

I let myself fall into a chair, my head in my hands.

Cody.

What did he want?

Why did he do this?

If it really was Cody, would Gunner have been so vocal about who paid him to beat us up?

If it really was Cody, I asked myself again, what else had he done?