The Missing

happen, sugar. I can’t get pregnant.” This time, when she jerked away from him, he was surprised enough that she managed to pull free. She ended up on her ass by the couch, and too upset to even be embarrassed, all Taige did was shove to her feet and walk blindly in the direction of her room.

    She didn’t even make it to the doorway when he stopped her, grabbing hold of her arm and trying to turn her around to look at him. When that didn’t work, he planted his body in front of her and caught her face between his hands. “What?” he asked hoarsely.

    Blinking back the tears, Taige said, “Just let go of me, Cullen.”

    “Not until you explain that.”

    This was going to choke her. She knew it. She’d force the words out, and they’d lodge in her throat and choke her. “I got pregnant that day I came to see you when your mom died. I didn’t know about it.” Forcing the words out was about as easy as it would have been to regurgitate broken glass, and she figured it was every bit as painful. “I lost weight, was sick a lot, but figured I was just depressed. Then I collapsed at school. I was taken to the ER, and they found a tubal pregnancy, but it was too late. The tube had ruptured.” Mechanically, she recited the details, unaware that the tears had finally won the battle, and they fell unchecked down her cheeks.

    Cullen lifted a hand to touch her, and she flinched away. “Don’t,” she said harshly.

    “Have to,” he said, pulling her against him.

    His hand rubbed in soothing circles over her bare back, but she held herself stiff in his arms, unable to relax, hardly able to breathe. He was quiet for a long while, and then, finally, he blew out a sigh. His arms tightened around her, and he murmured, “I’m sorry, Taige.”

    She didn’t know what to say. Hell, what was there to say?

    “Can you tell me about it?”

    Woodenly, she said, “There’s not much to tell. The tube ruptured. The baby never had a chance.”

    “And you? How were you?”

    Alone. But she kept that to herself. “I’m still around, aren’t I?” There was really no point in explaining that she’d nearly died. What good would that do either of them?

    He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “You’re not going to talk about it yet, are you?”

    Taige averted her eyes. “There really isn’t that much to talk about, Cullen.”

    “Yeah, there is.” He shifted, moving around so that he stood behind her, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist. The other hand he pressed to her belly. “I’m no doctor, but I remember anatomy well enough. There are two tubes; only one is gone.”

    Reaching down, she caught his hand. “Yes. One is gone.” She guided his hand lower and laid it down flat against the scar low on her belly. That bullet had ripped through her abdomen, damaging the other ovary beyond repair. “On the other side, there’s no ovary, Cullen. A bullet saw to that. So it looks like you lucked out all around. You don’t need to worry about me getting knocked up, even if we spend the next ten years fucking like rabbits.”

    Then she jerked away from him and stormed down the hallway.

    LOOKS like you lucked out all around.

    Cullen sat on the beach, feeling like he’d been wrung dry.

    Going from an emotional high to an all-time low in the matter of minutes was hell. He thought that maybe he could have done the Iron Man triathlon and still not feel this worked over.

    Taige had been pregnant. Nineteen years old, alone, and pregnant. He didn’t know jack shit about tubal pregnancies, but something about the way her face had looked when she talked about it made his gut knot inside. Then there were the tears that had rolled down her cheeks and the way she pressed a hand protectively to her belly as she murmured, The baby never had a chance. She’d wanted the baby. He knew that as well as he knew his own name.

    Fury gnawed nasty, ugly holes inside him. That faded, puckered scar low on her belly: he’d thought of the pain she must have gone through, and he thought of how easily she could have died, but he hadn’t known that whoever had shot her had robbed her. Robbed her of the chance to get pregnant.

    And how much of this was his fault?

    If he hadn’t thrown her out of his life that last day, he could have been there with her when she lost the baby. He wasn’t so impressed with himself to think that maybe if he’d been with her as he should have been, it never would have happened.