Fixer POV
Savage was okay in my eyes. Under all the shielding he had put around himself, I think it would take
a while before we both lowered our armour, and as we got to know each other.
Baby steps. I tell myself. Baby steps.
We are both like a skittish animal, ready to flee back inside ourselves where it’s safe, and put on a ‘l don’t care‘ attitude, and that won’t get either of us anywhere, I am guilty of doing that most of my life, it was something I learned to do to survive a lot of rejections, and losses of friends.
I was so glad when the suggestion of bed came; I was not sure how much longer I could keep this neutral face while listening to Savage tell his story and of how much I had meant to him. That I was the reason he tried to keep alive when he was captive. It was like he had come full circle and no longer wanted to die, to be with his wife, but be here for his wife’s clone, or something like that.
Did I look like my mother enough for him to see me as that? I know I had a lot of her features, but as a person. Am I anything like my mother?
Most of this was Uncle Simon’s doing, the bringing him back, I mean. Getting him to fight for his life, he must have seen Savage before his last mission, or sometime before, and had been working on getting him home. I need to ask him more about that later, when life settles down a bit. My Uncle has been a mystery, even Gramps had mentioned him when we talked, and how he helped bring us together, he didn’t know Savage was their son, Uncle Simon had my DNA researched, to confirm I was his grand–niece, because of all the BS that went around, he wanted concrete proof, he hadn’t known that Tandy had been in my life since before birth, and could have confirmed it at any time, but that DNA showed that I was related to not only Savage but the connection to the Astore family, a link that Tandy hadn’t put together, as he had worked hard to keep my mother’s side alive and working. Tandy only started getting involved in bringing the Astore family’s grandchild to them after the DNA reports. Uncle Simon, who knew the Astore’s due to his status and connections, although he didn’t go to networking and galas very often, hadn’t placed me as their Granddaughter, partly because the Astore’s didn’t know they had one, and he didn’t put Savage and Astore’s together as family.
It’s all a vicious circle, but at least we’re headed in the right direction now, all because of Uncle Simon and Tandy working together to resolve finding my father, and getting the other surprise
along the way.
Tank was great; he let me cry on his chest.
A pool of tears formed in the center of his chest, and when I moved to get some tissues, I saw the mess I had made on him and was appalled at the tears I had shed and left on him. I used the
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tissues to mop up the mess, and Tank grabbed my hand, stopping me.
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“Wipe your tears from your eyes, and blow your nose; those on my chest are mine to remove.” He
said softly, taking a tissue himself and dabbing at the tears with care, he was claiming my tears as
his own. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Was it cute, or yuck?
Tank climbed out of bed and returned with a bottle of water and a warm face cloth to wash my
face. He placed his finger under my chin and began to wash my face gently, his eyes focused on
his task as he wiped around my eyes, down my cheeks, chin, and mouth, and, lastly, my nose. Then
placed the cloth down, picked up the bottle of water, removed the cap, handed it to me, and left
me with the bottle as he took the cloth to the bathroom. I felt treasured, and I could see his love
shining through his actions, his gentleness, and his kind, thoughtful care. Other than my
Grandparents, no one has cared for me like this, not even Jenny, who tried but didn’t know how,
because we were both kids, learning to deal with life the best either of us could. We would hug
each other, and cry on each other’s shoulders, more her crying than me, but yeah, you get the drift.
We were never this gentle. Jenny had always been an out–there girl, while I was the quieter one, not
wanting to stand out, because when I did, bad things happened to me or to those I was with, so it was best to stay hidden, keeping everyone safe.
Tank climbed back in, and I rolled over, giving him my back. He wrapped his arms around me,
pulling me against him, and held me firmly till I relaxed. Sometime later, when my mind stopped
running around inside my head, sleep found me.
The next morning, I left Tank sleeping, headed to the bathroom, opened the drawer, and took out
the test kit. I was a few weeks late, and I knew what that meant, but this little test would confirm it.
I peed on the stick and left it on the sink whilst having a shower. I was happily humming to myself as I thought if I was ready for what that stick might reveal.
With my life so full of drama, was I ready for that to happen?
Would Tank be happy?
Now I guess it would work, if I had a girl, I would name her after my mum and Grandma. If it were a
boy, do I want to had Savages name, or my Grandpa’s? They are the ones who were there for me.
Would it be better to honor them, for the love they tried to give me, for all the notebooks that
Grandma wrote, so I could continue to learn when she was gone? Her recipe books, her healing
notes, and her daily thoughts that she thought would help me as I grew. She had been busy when
she learned of her cancer and raced to give me what she could in books. Grandpa would read
from them sometimes, when I was lying in bed, recovering from another beating, it was like he was
trying to give Grandma’s love to me, through reading the note books to me, part of why I know all
her recipes by heart, because Grandpa would read them out too, and talk about cooking some of the meals or cakes she had suggested.
I miss both of them very much. The love they gave me, though it wasn’t for long, was deep and
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meaningful, and I could see it in everything they did, just as Tank was trying to convey with the little things he did.
He had said once that he was new at all of this, having not had his father or mother to teach him,
but if he did something I didn’t like, I would talk to him, tell him, and he would see if he could
improve, and I would do the same.
“What the fuk?” I heard Tank’s roar from the other side of the door, and soon the door pulled open. He was holding the stick, which I guess was finished doing what it needed to do, by now.
“What’s up?” I said, acting innocent.
“What do two lines mean?” His face was in surprise.
“Oh, I am not sure, have a look at the box,” I replied. I knew what it meant, but thought it best he
work it out himself.
I watched him pick up the box and turn it over, looking between the stick and the box.
“You are pregnant.” He whispered hoarsely, turning to stare at my stomach, as if he could already
see the baby there.
“Oh, okay, um… Do you want this baby? You know if not, I could….” I left the rest open, not wanting
to voice it, because I am not sure if I could get rid of it.
“What? How could you ask, or even doubt one moment, that I wouldn’t want a little mini you or me
running around?” He climbed into the shower, squatted down in front of me, and started to kiss my
lower stomach.
“Hey, little one,” he said and gave my stomach a few more kisses before standing and pulling me
into his arms and giving me a bruising kiss.
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Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.