Michael and Bonnie both, rattled from their sleep, reached for the phone at the same time. A panicked expression crossed over Bonnie's face and she shouted, "No.... I'll answer it!"
Her tone startled and unnerved Michael but he backed off. He dismissed it as being part of her pregnancy or mood swings of the temporarily adopted persona.
Bonnie flipped onto her side and shielded the screen of her phone from Michael. Reading the text her expression soured.
Text From Garthe Knight to Miss Barstow: You and your son will be mine. Don't underestimate me, Bonnie. Michael is a living, breathing insult to my existence and he will not be granted access to our child. Don't come to me, I promise I'll come to you.
Bonnie let out a gasp and quickly deleted the message. Her hands began to shake violently as she rolled over again to face Michael. She couldn't hide the tears in her eyes.
Michael's much larger hand came to rest upon Bonnie's pale cheek and he rubbed her softly. He soothingly inquired, "Bon? Honey? You don't look well. Who text you?"
"Oh, it... it was a... a wrong number," she fibbed flatly.
"Did you text them that they were messaging the wrong number? Or do you want me to do that?" Michael sweetly offered.
"I... I already did..." she breathed softly.
"Can.... can you not ask so many questions?" The brunette huffed , having grown tired to his prompting. It was causing her to grow more and more on edge.
"Sure. Sorry sweetheart," the curly haired man apologized.
Then with a soft tone he suggested, "why don't we go back to sleep? Hmm? Turn off your phone and get some rest. You need your strength."
Bonnie nodded her head slowly up and down in agreement. Turning her phone off she slid beneath the covers and tucked herself in close to Michael.
How long should she keep the threats a secret? How long would Garthe keep taunting her before he'd make good on his threat? Would he show up that morning? That evening? Next week? What did he want to do with her child and what in the world did he want with her? Bonnie couldn't put her mind to rest as easily as it seemed Michael could.
((to be further edited))