His Baby Her Gift: The Slow Burn Duology 2 by LaShawn Vasser (electric book reader .txt) 📗

A Chucky-like grin appeared on her face. “Of course there is a baby. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

Charlotte was hesitant to continue their conversation but decided she should forge ahead. “Look, sometimes when feelings are involved, we might do some things we otherwise wouldn’t if we were thinking clearly.” Like, pretend to be pregnant.

Elaina nodded in agreement but didn’t confirm, nor deny, Charlotte’s suspicions.

Charlotte took another approach–the blatantly honesty one. “Back in my day, it was much easier to snag a husband just by thinking you were pregnant only to conceive after the wedding.” Charlotte stared into Elaina’s eyes. “I saw the bloody towels, your sheets, and the nightgown. My guess is there is no more baby and that you are going to need another plan.” Charlotte reached her hand out across the table and placed it on top of Elaina’s. Her voice softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Elaina sat stoically. Again, she did not confirm nor deny Charlotte’s suspicions. She just continued to listen to her speak.

Charlotte wasn’t sure if her words had reached her. Clearly, the woman was suffering both mentally and physically. Charlotte withdrew her hand and picked up her cup. Her tea was cooling off, but she took another sip. “I also meant what I said about being willing to help. Short of murder, I think we can come up with a plan that might work for the both of us.”

“I already have a plan.”

“That’s great.” Charlotte clasped her hands together. “Let’s hear it.”

Elaina stood. “You’ve already given me the parameters of what you will and will not do. There is no need to discuss it any further.”

“Wait. I don’t understand.” Charlotte was confused.

“I’m afraid my plan falls outside of the boundaries you just set.” Elaina stood. “G’night, Charlotte.” She left the kitchen leaving Charlotte stunned.

Was Elaina talking about murder? Charlotte eased up from her chair and quickly walked back to her bedroom, closing the door behind. She placed a hand on her stomach because it was beginning to feel a little queasy. Elaina has completely lost it. I need to warn Carter.

Charlotte went to get her phone from the table next to her bed. Not only was her stomach upset, but her head was also starting to feel funny too.

Charlotte tried to blink the fuzziness away as she dialed Carter’s number. Her vision was going in and out of focus. It was then that she realized Elaina had put something in her tea.

She glanced over her shoulder, worried that Elaina was going to magically appear. Carter’s phone rang a couple of times before going to voice mail. Charlotte had to leave him a message. She whispered urgently. "Carter! Please call me as soon as you get this message.” Her words began to slur, and she felt hot all over. “I think Elaina is danger–” Charlotte’s words trailed off as she clutched her chest in pain. Suddenly, the room began to spin out of control, and darkness descended.

The phone slipped out of Charlotte’s hands and fell underneath her bed, and she crumpled to the floor.

Elaina was lying in bed with her hands laced behind her head, staring at the ceiling. She was waiting for the signal. The loud thumping noise of Charlotte hitting the floor was it. Calmly, she got up and went into her room.

Charlotte was sprawled out over the floor.

Elaina walked over and stood above her before bending low. “I couldn’t take the risk of you ruining my plans.” Elaina figured by morning, she would dial 9-1-1. The tea wouldn’t kill Charlotte, per se, but it was debilitating. The medical professionals will probably assume she simply had a stroke.

Chapter 18

Carter slept all night in a chair next to Harlem’s bed. He roused the moment he heard her groan.

Harlem woke up only to realize she was in the hospital. Her lungs were on fire, her throat was dry, and she wanted to throw up. She found it difficult just to speak. “Carter?”

Immediately, he was by her side. “Hey, I’m here.” He had never been happier to see Harlem looking back at him.

“What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” Absentmindedly, Harlem rubbed her baby bump. She was relieved to feel movement underneath her hand.

“I guess you didn’t cut the stove off last night before you went to bed. Gas filled up the condo, and you breathed in too much of it. You scared the shit out of me.”

Confusion was written all over her face. Her voice was barely audible. “I never turned the stove on.”

Carter didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

She spoke in a broken whisper. “I didn’t cook anything last night. After you left, I was exhausted. I took a shower and went to bed.”

A feeling of dread crept up over him. Harlem had also spent the previous two nights at Carter’s. If the stove had been on all that time, they would have smelled it as soon as they arrived last night. “Are you sure, and you just don’t remember?”

“I know I’ve been a little forgetful lately, but I think I’d remember that.” Harlem could see the worry lines on Carter’s face but couldn’t understand the root cause of it. “I don’t know. Maybe I bumped into it on accident when I got the ice-cream.” Harlem wanted to put Carter’s mind at ease.

He wanted to believe that, but every burner in the kitchen was emitting gas. Harlem may have unintentionally bumped into one, but all four? Carter didn’t think it was possible to do, and it goes unnoticed. James’ words also played in his