Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Eight

“Where the hell is he?” Anna muttered, shoving cold hands into the pocket of her torn sweatshirt.

A few people that she recognized as her prior students' parents and grandparents passed her, giving her looks that made her feel as if she were some type of up to no good hoodlum. As soon as they passed, she breathed a sigh of relief and tried not to choke on the heavy fumes of a semi as it flew down the busiest road in Napolm.

She checked her phone. 5:13. It was 5:13 on a calm, windless Monday evening, and Hunter was still nowhere in sight. He was almost always back by half past noon, but not today apparently. If only she had a key to his apartment so she wouldn't just be leaning against the a brick wall, but no, he had never offered and she had never asked.

Now, she regretted ever having not just asked for something she had wanted from him.

A few cars passed by, emitting fumes that stained the apartment buildings' brick walls. Unlike the other collection of apartments on the opposite side of town, these were for the more privileged and wealthier residents of the town. Balconies and windows that were cleaned daily adorned the sides facing the road, all reflecting the sun from overhead.

There were lamp lights spaced throughout the wide sidewalk, all painted a dark green and not having been turned on yet due to the earliness of the day. More cars passed until it all blended into one, dull rainbow. The sun eventually went down, replaced by the moon. The white sphere up in the sky encouraged her to sit down, so sit down she did.

Knees cuddled up to her chest, Anna was in that same ball she had been curled up in almost every hour for the past few days. She pulled her hood over her frizzy curls, making sure that none of the passers by recognized her as today's absent kindergarten teacher. Having skipped school today, she was feeling a little better.

In the past few days, she and Titus had managed to take care of everything she would need until her very first obstetrician gynecologist appointment that was due in a little under eight weeks. She had her prenatal vitamins, was drinking enough water, eating all sorts of protein and calcium-rich foods, and was reading the Planned Parenthood books religiously.

Looking down at her converse covered feet, she'd be the first to admit that she probably should have looked a little less trashy to announce something as serious as this. Her jeans had frayed holes at the knees, and she hadn't had enough energy to do anything but take a shower and brush her teeth. Although the words she would say had been constantly memorized throughout the long day, she found herself at a loss for words as soon as she saw Hunter's black, Ferrari 599 perform an excellent parallel park at the front of the building.

Dressed in black pants made of fine material and a light blue shirt that accentuated his strong yet lean frame, Hunter hefted a suitcase out of the backseat before walking her way. She stayed right where she was, feeling much too tired for the talk that would have to take place soon. As he cleared his throat, she felt a little annoyed that he had made her wait two more days than necessary.

The father of their unborn child, he should have been the with her at Planned Parenthood. He should have been the one rubbing her back in little circles, instead of Titus. Just the thought of her best friend had her calming immediately, and the words she wanted to say to Hunter were now back. - cocked and ready to go like a loaded gun.

“Anna." He nodded curtly, brown curls swaying with the movement.

“What took you so long?”

“Let's go inside first.” Hunter looked pointedly towards the main entrance. “It's kinda cold.”

“No kidding,” she mumbled, still trying to regain feeling in her hands as they walked into the main entrance of the apartment.

Freshly waxed and outlined by the walls in red, the floor looked almost as beautiful as marble. There were a few red chairs to go with the golden painting of the walls, but other than that, the main lobby only housed a very large desk in which there was usually some sort of welcoming concierge. She spared a glance that way and saw a young woman manning the station, flitting around hurriedly.