Dangerous Desires (Book 2)

Angeldust

I can't feel anything. I'm completely numb.

Once again, I'm left alone. After Alastor left and I'm able to pick myself up off the ground without any help because of my jelly legs, I walk over and pick up the bag he dropped and blankly look inside.

Chocolate. He bought me chocolate as the surprise he promised. The very thing he hates more than technology.

Seeing the sweet treat releases another wave of fresh tears and I clutch it close to my chest as I walk back to Alastor's house. The place I call home.

Charlie, of course, offered for me to stay there, but I declined. I wanted to see if Al was at home. Maybe get an explination. No luck.

When I arrive, the house is empty. Void of all life except for Blueberry, who sits on the sofa in his maid costume, legs curled under him, and reading a book. He jumps up with a congratulatory smile as I enter, but when he sees my expression, his smile vanishes and is replaced with worry.

Unable to speak around the lump in my throat, I hang my head, lip trembling as the bag falls from my iron grip. All fight leaving me in one fell swoop.

Blueberry doesn't say a word. Instead, he strides over to me, and pulls me into a hug. I don't push him away. Burying my wet face in the crook of his neck, a sob finally escapes.

I cry out all the fustration. All the anger. All the sorrow. All the pain. Everything bottled up inside.

As I cry, he simply holds me.

I know I shouldn't find even a shred of comfort with the man that killed me, but Alastor isn't here and I need a hug from someone who isn't giving me a look of pity. I don't need pity. I just need to be held. To cry out all the emotions threatening to consume me.

Pulling away, I scrub at my eyes and give him a shaky smile. "Thank ya, I needed that."

"Should you ever need to talk, I am here whenever you're ready. As your slave, or as an acquaintance." He says softly.

"How 'bout... as a friend?" My question has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Truly?"

"Keep workin' on it and I'll think 'bout it."

"Absolutely." Blueberry's beaming grin elicites a small smile from me.

Blueberry has a long way to go before I'm able to fully trust him again, but I'm beginning to see an actual change in him.

He knew I needed a hug. To just let me cry it out without prodding about what happened. In my book, that is worthy of a second chance.

It's not much, but it's a start.

Trudging upstairs, I go into Alastor's bedroom we share and curl up under the covers, inhaling his musk. As tears drip from the corners of my eyes and wets the sheets, a whimper of pain slips past my lips.

                            ~~~~~

One week later...

"Thanks fer goin' out and grabbin' this. I know it's strange, but da cravings are ridiculous." I say to Blueberry as he sets a plate in front of me with an amused smirk.

"It is odd indeed, but you're pregnant. It's normal to have wacky cravings. Even cravings such as... this." He gestures to the peanut butter and pickle sandwich and chuckles.

Grabbing the sandwich, I take a big bite, moaning in bliss at the combination of sour and sweet. He sits a glass of milk in front of me and I nod my thanks, mouth still full.

For seven days, he's learned that with my odd craving snack, I like milk with it. Blueberry has sat in the lobby with me every day. Me on the sofa and him on the floor by the lit fireplace as he reads and I scroll through Sinstagram and text with my sister.

It's oddly comforting.

It reminds me of when Alastor and I used to do this. Laze the days away just enjoying each other's company while doing our own thing.

The heartache and wound of him abandoning me is still there... but if I focus on other things, the pain is bearable.

Finishing up my sandwich, I wipe crumbs from my fingers onto the plate, cup the tiny swell of my stomach that is already starting to show, and stand. When I attempt to grab the plate, Blueberry swats my hand lightly and snatches it from my grip.

"I will take and wash that. You go over and put your legs up. Relax." He says, turning to stride over to the kitchen sink, flare bottom of his costume swaying with every step.

"You're da slave, not me." I grumble, smoothing a hand over my stomach, marveling at how much I'm showing in such a short time.

I looked up online that females in the mortal world carry to term. Nine whole months. But Molly said when she was pregnant down here, it only lasted four months and she carried to full term.

I guess things down here are very different.

One week and I already have a little bump to stroke. Sometimes at night, I'll sing softly to it, pretending that my baby is able to hear it. And sometimes I'll pretend Al lies in bed next to me, pressing a gentle hand to my stomach and beaming with pride.

Tears sting my eyes at the image in my mind that I yearn for. But, it has been a week. A week of no phone calls, letters, or communication of any kind. Even his shadows are gone. There are times I think I see one, but then I'll turn and nothing will be there.

I need to face facts. Alastor is gone. And the possibility of him returning... is slim to none.

Mouth thinning in a expressionless line, I blink rapidly to clear the water forming in my line of sight. I will raise this baby on my own.

I don't need him.

My traitorus heart lurches at the untrue thought and I sigh. I do need him. I need my Albert more than I need oxygen to breathe. Unfortunately, the jackass ran off, taking my heart with him.

A sudden knock at the front door has me jumping.

"I'll get it, Mistress. Please, rest." Blueberry says, coming up behind me and I flap a hand at his worried tone.

"I'm not fragile, I am perfectly capable of openin' a door."

Twisting the doorknob, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and open the door to reveal the last person I expected to be standing there.

Alastor.

Shuffling the toe of his shoe on the ground, he holds a bouquet of black roses in one hand and a huge pile of what looks like baby stuff sits around him.

I gape at the baby stuff for a moment before regaining my composure. Hand going up to fiddle nervously with his tie, Alastor peeks up at me through his lashes. "Too much?"

I don't think or realize what I'm doing as I curl my fingers, wind back my fist, and punch him square in the nose with a venomous hiss.