"We can fix this," she rambled, her words spitting out like sparks. "We’ll tell your father that you were wrong, but we’ll go to the clinic tomorrow. The one in Newark so no one will recognize you. He doesn’t have to know."
Dumbly, I blinked. "He’ll know when my belly shows."
Her mouth tightened. "Don’t be ridiculous, Keira. I don’t mean the doctor’s clinic."
For a second, I could only gape at her. "You want me to have an abortion?"
"Of course." Her nostrils flared. "You’re nineteen. You’re going to Johns Hopkins. That’s what your father wants for you right now."
Why were the last two words the ones that resonated the most?
Right now.
Would I always be living for what he wanted for me right now? And if it wasn’t him, was it a ‘nice’ man like him who slapped his wife when she burned dinner that he’d set me up with from his church? Would it be my husband’s right nows that forged my life? Would I drown my sorrows in drink like Mom because of someone else’s right nows?
Throat tight, I whispered, "What if I don’t want an abortion?"
"It’s tough."
"But… the church? They say—"
"If your father finds out," she snapped, reaching down and grabbing my chin, hard enough to hurt, hard enough to leave more marks, "you’ll have no choice but to have this baby, and he will make your life hell. Do you want that?"
I gulped. "No." A strange feeling blossomed in my chest. It felt like hatred. It burned like it too. "What about my soul?" I hissed. "You’re the ones who tell me how important it is not to sin. But this is the worst—"
"You listen to me, Keira. Your father will…" Her jaw tensed, but I saw terror whisper into being in her eyes. She even shivered before she rasped, "Look, we’ll tell him you were wrong—"
A bang sounded at the door and both of us jumped. Heads whipping to the side, I had no idea why we started panting but we did.
"What’s going on in there? Why’s it taking so long?"
The growl sent shivers down my spine. I’d seen him angry, but never this angry.
My mouth trembled as Mom said, "Nothing’s going on in here, Derek. It took a while for her to pee on the stick. Keira’s not pregnant. I think it’s that PCOS I told you about."
"PCOS?"
"It’s a woman’s thing, dear, you wouldn’t understand."
"She isn’t pregnant?" he repeated, his voice more normal now, but my heartbeat continued racing.
I don’t want an abortion.
Storm’s sad eyes were all I could see, even as I felt sure I was about to hyperventilate. I felt like there was a murderer outside my door, ax in hand, about to break in and do horrendous things to me, but there was Storm.
He’d keep me safe.
He’d keep our baby safe.
I hadn’t intended for any of this to happen. I didn’t want to go to Johns Hopkins, but that was the only way Dad would pay for college and I—
"Show me the test."
My mother sucked in a sharp breath. "Derek! Why would you ask to see that?"
"Because I don’t believe you, Marilyn." He slammed a hand on the door. "Show them to me."
Her nostrils flared, and when our eyes met, I saw something I’d never seen before.
Terror.
I knew she was scared of him, but outright terrified?
My mouth wobbled as I wondered what he’d done to put that look in her eye. I’d never thought they were happy together, had always known she was a Stepford Wife, but I’d never realized that she was petrified of him.
Gulping, she straightened up. "It’s covered in urine, Derek."
"Wash it."
"One moment. Keira isn’t decent. We’ll be out in two minutes."
Silence hummed, and just when I felt sure my heart would explode, he rumbled, "Be quick about it. I’ll be waiting in the family room."
We heard his heavy stomping footfall, then she grabbed my arm and hauled me off the toilet. That was when she reached for a kit, peed on the stick, then shoved it on the vanity.
"Come on, come on, come on," she warbled under her breath as she sorted out her skirt, tugged on her cuffs, and made herself look presentable.
It didn’t take Einstein to understand what was going on here.
She feared for us both.
Righting my clothes, I watched her woodenly, scared and shocked and lost, and when it finally showed negative, she released a soft breath now the waiting was over.
"Tomorrow," she rasped. "Tomorrow." The words were to herself as she nodded, like if she said them aloud, she’d make them so. "We’ll fix it then. He’ll never know."
She didn’t even look back at me, didn’t even ask me if this was what I wanted.
Just acted.
Because she knew the repercussions in a way that I didn’t.
Had she protected me from him my whole life and I just hadn’t seen it?
The house was big. Big enough that my bedroom was on one side and theirs on the other. I could play my music as loud as I wanted, and they never heard…
Throat tight, thick with emotions, I got to my feet, knowing that I had to get out of here.
I had one chance, but it depended on Storm.
As I sneaked out of the bathroom, the bruises on my arms made themselves known to me.
Dad had shaken me, demanding to know who the father might be, and when I’d told him, he’d called me a whore. He’d slapped me again. Thrown me down to the ground like I was trash.
Mouth wobbling, I carefully slipped down the hall, opened the front door, closed it with my heart in my throat in case it clicked too loudly, and didn’t stop treading cautiously until I was on the sidewalk. That was when I took off running.
My flip flop-covered feet slapped against the ground, and it was only when I could duck down an alleyway, that I pulled out my phone.
Dad had said I was a slut. That Sinners used women like their personal whores, and I’d allowed myself to be sullied by one of them.
He said they belonged in jail, that they had no honor, no respect—but Storm didn’t look at me like that.
He looked at me like I was precious.
God, had I been stupid?
I found a nook down the alley where I could hide. It stank of trash and urine, but I had the weirdest feeling that Dad would chase after me. That he wouldn’t let this go.
This was his reputation on the line.
God, I really was in danger.
I connected a call to Storm.
He didn’t answer.
I tried again.
This time, he cut the call.
My eyes grew round, tears welling in them as I stared at the screen—Dad was right.
Now we’d had sex, he didn’t want anything to do with me. He’d said he had to go away on a run. Had that been a lie?
I’d have to do what Mom said. I’d have to—
My cell pinged.
Storm: Baby girl, I’m in church. What’s wrong?
The relief was so vast that it made me nauseated. I leaned over and puked, but there was nothing in my stomach, hadn’t been for three days as I dealt with the fact I had a late period.
Another text came in.