Fairytale Not Required (11 page)

"Yeah, Jackson and I are going over in the morning to load up the U-Haul for her," Griffin said.

"I'm afraid I'm never going to see her again," Clare said softly, leaning on Griffin in a way that made real jealousy ricochet through Jason. So, there were women who would turn to their man for support, and not kick him in his ass on their way out the door to work?

"There was something about her tonight that felt final," Clare said as Griffin trailed his fingers through her hair. "I don't think she's going to come back."

"Not coming back? Son of a bitch." Jason didn't miss Griffin's narrowed eyes, but he didn't care. Astrid was bailing on him? Disappearing without even telling him? Never coming back? Shit, he was not okay with that. He'd been giving her space, not planning to never see her again. What if she disappeared from his life entirely?

No way. Unacceptable. He grabbed his bag of takeout off the counter, suddenly burning with the need to see her one more time. It didn't matter that they were incompatible in the long term. That night had been some sort of amazing connection, and he couldn't let her walk out of his life without acknowledging it. "Where does she live?"

Clare raised her eyebrows at his demanding tone. "She lives down the street. Over Mack's Garage."

"Mack's Garage?" Jason knew where that was. It was beside the old train tracks on the south side of town. All he could remember was the service station. He didn't remember seeing any apartments over there. "Is she there now?"

Clare nodded. "She left about twenty minutes ago. She had to finish packing—"

"Packing." Son of a bitch. Urgency coursed through Jason, and he spun toward the door.

Griffin's hand came down heavily on his arm. "Sarantos," he said quietly. "Astrid seems tough, but she's not. Don't hurt her."

Jason met his gaze. "I know exactly how tough she is," he said. "That's why I'm going after her."

For a long moment, the men simply stared at each other, then Griffin nodded and released him.

Jason didn't waste time. He simply sprinted for the door, urgency coursing through him. Astrid Monroe wasn't bailing on him. Not yet.

Jason swore as he got out of his car at Mack's Garage. The place reeked of gasoline and oil fumes, and it was stacked with at least twenty beater cars, as well as an assortment of well-used foreign luxury models that seemed to be finding a second life in the woods of Maine. The garage was a shuddering wooden building with siding falling off in places, and a couple of the windows were held together by duct tape.

Above the south side of the garage was a second floor alcove, with two small dormers. The double hung windows were open wide, and a small, faint glow came from within. This was where Astrid lived? This shit hole?

Outrage burned through him, and he strode toward the building, searching for a way to the second floor. He jogged around the perimeter, and finally saw Astrid's junker car parked behind the shop, beside a faded red door that didn't quite close all the way. This was her home? A place where the exterior door didn't shut, let alone lock?

Shit. He hoped she had a badass dog living with her, or he was going to be in an even worse mood.

Remembering too clearly the way she'd shut him down so completely the last time he'd reached out to her, Jason didn't bother to knock or give her a chance to tell him to take a hike. He just pushed open the door and vaulted up the narrow, steep stairwell, scowling at the cracks in the plaster. He couldn't even imagine Astrid cloistering herself in this hellhole, cutting off her vibrancy and life before it had a chance to blossom.

He reached the landing, which was piled high with cardboard boxes. The reality of her move hit him hard, and he sobered. She had really been planning to leave town without telling him, despite the unbelievable connection they'd had? The thought passed through his mind that maybe the intensity of their connection had been one-sided, that it had been only him who'd felt the world shift when they'd made love.

Then he thought of her passion and the way she'd embraced him and he knew that she'd felt the same thing. Regardless of what had happened to make her pull back, he was dead certain that she'd been as affected by their lovemaking as he had been, at least in that moment.

He navigated around the towers of boxes and walked over to the one door at the top of the stairs. He knocked lightly, frowning when he saw it open slightly from his touch. No security whatsoever. Did she have no idea of her vulnerability?

There was no answer from within, and Jason was about to raise his hand to knock again, when he heard a low moan from the other side of the door. A moan of pain. "Astrid!" Adrenaline rushed through him. He immediately shoved open the door and bolted into the apartment.

Astrid was sitting on the edge of a bed, hunched over in a ball. She looked up sharply at his entrance, and her face went ashen. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and the raw terror in her eyes made him clench his fist and do a quick recon of the place to see if anything was in there threatening her. The place was stripped of everything but piles of boxes, a couple pieces of furniture and an outfit folded neatly on a box.

No one was there, but as he turned back to Astrid's face, there was no mistaking the depth of fear in her brown eyes.

There was nothing arrogant and flippant about her now. Just the raw agony of a woman freefalling into hell. Protectiveness surged through Jason, and he shut the door behind him, locking out the world as he walked into her space.

"No," she whispered. "Go away." She moved her hand quickly, and Jason saw a flash of white in her grasp before she hid it behind her back.

For a long second, his mind went blank with shock as he struggled to process what he'd just seen. The white stick? He felt his throat close up and he stared at her. "Astrid?"

"No. Go away." She scrambled to her feet and stumbled over a box.

Jason leapt across the tiny room and caught her before she fell. Her body felt too bony and frail beneath his hands, and her skin was icy cold. She sucked in her breath and pulled back, and as she did, something fell from her hand.

He caught it before it hit the ground, and the moment his fingers closed around the hard plastic, he knew what it was. Slowly, he looked down at it and saw a white window.

In the window was a blue plus sign.

Griffin's words leapt into Jason's mind.
Never.
Astrid
never
slept with anyone.

Except Jason.

He was the only one she'd been with, and he was holding a positive result pregnancy test in his hand.

Son of a bitch. She was pregnant with his child.

* * *

Astrid saw the shock on Jason's features. She knew that he'd realized what was in his hand, and what it meant. She went still, her body going numb as she waited for the inevitable words, the same ones that Paul had given her when he'd realized she was pregnant with his child. The demand for ownership and control. The offer of marriage. All of it meaningless, using her as a pawn for him to get what he wanted: his child.

She lifted her chin and faced Jason, preparing for the battle.

But Jason didn't say anything. He just stood there staring at the test for what felt like forever. Finally he looked up, and she saw the stunned expression on his face. It was so stark, so surprised, so at a loss, that she started laughing. Not a laugh of joy and bliss. The laughter of shared pain and shock, which was yet another connection between them that seemed to close the chasm she'd tried so hard to create. "I know," she said softly. "That's exactly how I feel."

"Jesus, Astrid." Jason ran his hand through his hair, and suddenly he didn't look like a threatening male who would prey on her. He looked like a guy who was standing on quicksand and had no idea which way led to safety.

Slowly, some of her fear began to ease. She sat back down on the bed, her legs still trembling from the shock of finding out. She'd read the results only minutes before Jason had walked in, and she was still shaken, still trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. "Aren't you going to ask if it's yours?"

"No." Jason shoved the stick in his back pocket and clasped his hands on top of his head, his biceps bunching. His tee shirt was covered in white splotches that matched the streaks on his jeans, and she knew he'd been at the cafe working. "Of course it's mine."

"Oh." Something warm fluttered in Astrid's chest, something that made her feel good. Based on what he'd seen of her, making love with a stranger on the day she'd met him, he'd have been justified in wondering whether he was part of a long line of one night stands.

But she could tell the thought hadn't even occurred to him. He'd absolutely, instantly, without a moment's hesitation, believed that she had been with no one else.

Paul had taken a paternity test before he'd been willing to accept that the woman he'd been dating for over a year hadn't been sleeping around on him.

Jason hadn't even hesitated, and the thought made her throat tighten. No one saw her in that kind of light, a woman so honorable that he would trust her automatically, despite all evidence to the contrary. It felt so incredible, this gift that made her heart actually ache, his absolute belief in who she was. It made her want to ask him to wrap her up in his arms and hold her so tightly that she'd never have to breathe on her own again.

Which of course she couldn't do. She had learned her lesson about relying on anyone else, and she thought she was used to it. Until Jason made her want more by being so damned nice to her.

Damn him for having faith in her.

With a muttered curse, Jason turned away and walked over to the window. He braced his hands on the window frame and looked out over the garage, his body rigid with tension. Saying nothing. Giving away nothing. Astrid's initial relief that he hadn't launched into a series of threats began to fade, replaced by increasing trepidation. What was he thinking? What was he going to do? She couldn't tell at all.

The silence loomed threateningly in the small room, and Astrid's heart began to pound again as the reality of her situation began to descend upon her.
She was pregnant.
Sweat broke out on her skin, and suddenly she felt hot. Her head began to buzz, and the room began to spin. Her mouth was pasty dry, and suddenly she started to pant, unable to get her breath.
It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay.
But she couldn't stop the growing panic, the terror trying to take her. She waved her hand at her face, trying to cool herself, trying to ground herself.

"Shit, Astrid. Lie down." Jason was suddenly beside her, his hands on her shoulders, supporting her.

"No." She tried to brush his hands off, feeling trapped by his touch. "Let go of me."

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was gentle, but his grip was unrelenting. "You're going to pass out if you don't lie down."

"I'm fine." She bent forward, putting her head between her knees, as she fought for breath, trying not to think, trying to blank her mind so she couldn't process anything that was happening. But the room began to spin more, and suddenly she felt herself falling forward. The floor rushed up toward her, and she tried to brace herself as Jason swept her up in his arms, catching her before she face planted onto the stained floorboards.

He deposited her on the bed before she could protest, pinning her shoulders to the mattress when she fought to get up. "Stay," he ordered. "For two minutes. Just stay."

"Let me go," she gasped, panicking at his grip. "I can't do this—-"

"Astrid." He leaned over her and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's me," he said softly. "You're safe. Just take a deep breath. I'm not going to hurt you. No one is. Okay?"

His voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that it broke through the panic threatening to consume her. She stared at him and saw only genuine concern in his dark eyes. His brow was furrowed, and he was gently stroking her hair. There was no threat from him, no domination. He wasn't going to hurt her.

"Yeah, see? It's all good. Can you lie still for a couple minutes?"

His voice was so kind that Astrid's fear finally slid away, and she sagged into the mattress, her body too exhausted to hold on anymore. "Okay." She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, concentrating on the feel of his hands caressing her shoulders. His touch was warm and strong, and some of the panic began to ease from her.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, and the only sound Astrid could hear was the pounding of her heart and her own breathing. She concentrated on each breath and on Jason's soothing touch. Eventually, her breathing slowed and the trembling eased. She opened her eyes, and saw Jason sitting beside her. He was watching her carefully, his dark eyes hooded with resolve. It was the expression of a man who had decided to take what he deemed to be his.

A new fear rippled through her, and she sat up abruptly, suddenly needing to be on her feet, not sprawled helplessly in a bed beside him. He didn't stop her, but he caught her hips as she scooted past him, helping her to her feet. Her skin seemed to burn from his touch, and she quickly moved away from him to perch on the trunk she used as a window seat.

Jason didn't take his gaze off her, and she met his stare. "I don't want anything from you," she said. "I'm leaving in the morning. This isn't your problem."

"My
problem?
" Anger suddenly flashed across his face, and his jaw jutted out. "Is that what you consider a child? A
problem
?"

She froze, shocked by the hostility in his voice. "No, I—"

"You will
not
have an abortion," he growled. "That's not an option."

"What? I didn't say—"

"Son of a bitch, Astrid," he said, suddenly leaping to his feet. "Don't you understand that this is a gift? A fucking gift, not some
problem
that will get in the way of your career or your need to blow town and—"