My chest rises and falls, hurriedly, as I fight and pant for air. Good God, am I dying? The skin over my chest feels like it's getting tighter and tighter, constricting my breathing. I hear Cass call out to me, but I don't make out what she's saying. It's all fuzzy.
"Hunt." I feel someone shaking me. "Hunter!" There they go again. Their voice sounds like it's traveling through the water to reach me, and I can't quite bring myself to acknowledge them.
A baby? Pregnant?
"I already have a son," I mumble incoherently.
It doesn't hit me what I said until after it comes out of my mouth. And it feels ... right. There's this connection I feel when I'm around him that can't be explained, like two magnets attracting each other.
But this ... Cass being pregnant? It's hard to explain, but I'll try.
"It doesn't feel right."
"What doesn't feel right?" she coos, and it's then I can feel her dagger-like claws digging into my bicep.
Shaking her off, I stand to my full height, straining for breath, but in a lot better shape than I was a moment earlier. I don't miss the flash of pain that enters her gaze when I dislodge her hold. I also don't try to analyze it.
I take a deep breath. "So, you're p-p ... "
"Pregnant," she finishes for me and then grins like she’s proud of herself.
"P-Pregnant. You're pregnant."
The room tilts once more. Shutting my eyes, I clasp the wall for support. Taking deep breaths like how Coach taught us in high school, I level out my breathing, so I'm not at the risk of hyperventilating. Calming myself down, I remove Cass from touching me and then point to the bed in a silent command to sit down.
She does so without complaint and even goes so far as looking all snooty when she does it. I can't stand the ground she walks on.
Leaning back against the wall, I allow my head to fall back and close my eyes. "Okay. So, you're pregnant, and what ...? "
A nervous feeling in my stomach shoves back. There's something else here. There has to be. Her revelation caught me off guard for a minute, but now that I’m thinking semi-clearly, none of it adds up in my head. And I don’t claim to be a master on the female anatomy and reproduction, but none of this sounds right.
When she doesn't immediately answer, I open my eyes to look down at her. She once more has a handful of the sheet, and she's holding it against her like it's her shield. From her slack face and sad eyes, I'm sure I've just hit a nerve of some sort.
"What?" she asks, gaining a little snark in her tone. "You're the father, Hunter. It's your baby."
I nod, even though I know right off the goddamn bat she's full of shit. Maverick? Oh, yes, he could very well be my son. But the baby Cass is pregnant with? No way in hell. No way. I haven't fucked her since the first week of school, and even then, I never came inside her or even came inside a condom I was fucking her with. And precum getting out of a condom is almost nearly impossible.
The last time I came inside of a condom with her was this past summer when I was crashing in her parents’ pool house one night. I don't know how I can remember, but I do. We'd just gotten stoned out of our heads, and I was taking full advantage of it. Drinks were being passed around, and there were some space cakes there, too.
That night, I fucked Cassandra, with a condom, while she was on her period. I may be a man, but I sure as hell paid attention in school during sex ed. A woman cannot get pregnant during her period. A healthy, average woman can only get pregnant about a week and a half to two weeks post period.
I know this shit. I studied this shit. There was no way I was going to stick my dick in a pussy and not know this. The only person I'd had a problem with the condom breaking is Harloe. And she was on birth control, which was fine. Or so I thought.
But Cass ... fuck, no.
"You're not pinning that baby on me, Cass." I shake my head sadly, already knowing what she's trying to do.
Venomous words slice open her flesh, causing Cass to flinch at the sting. She sits back on the bed and gets comfortable, which is another thing we need to talk about. She pulls her gaze away from me and stares off into space as silence cloaks us in its vicious web. The tenseness of it makes me nervous, and I don't do nervous. Period. People are nervous when it comes to being near me.
And the longer we're both not saying anything, the more my mind runs away with me. Of course, I don't want to be around Cass. She damn near killed Harloe that day in the girl's bathroom. Had her two minions hold Harloe's head underwater until she ingested that disgusting liquid. Harloe grew sick from that, and she could have fucking died.
So, why do I still feel this weird sense of loss? I don't know where it comes from, nor can I properly explain it, but every time I even look at Cass, I'm filled with this grand sense of emptiness, like I've missed something I should have picked up on a long time ago.
I decide that right now isn't the proper time to worry about a thing like that. I know this baby isn't mine, so it's not my problem where she goes from here with the pregnancy. However, an unsettling feeling just won’t go away, and I didn't have that before coming in here. I need to find out why.
"Why are you checked into the clinic?" I ask, eyes trailing up and down her covered torso.
She still doesn't respond. And it's taking everything in me not to yell at her, demanding she tell me.
Finally, she whispers, "I can't do it without you."
"Do what?" I push off the wall, and I hope my closeness isn't a mistake that she sees as more. It's one person being compassionate to another. Something I haven't been toward anyone in quite some time.
Her hands jerk up and then fall down beside her like cooked spaghetti. "Life."
Her desolate voice pings a red flag. "Did ...? "
She sighs. "Someone found me before the pills could digest. I've been here for a few hours, recovering."
The confession slips freely from her lips so easily I can't help but do a double take. She's just told me that she's carrying a child, and within the span of ten minutes, she's telling me she swallowed a shit ton of pills to commit suicide.
"You tried to kill yourself?" She nods, barely meeting my eyes. "Because I broke things off with you?" I hedge, somehow already knowing that's the answer. Not being conceited here, but I have a hunch, so I'm going with it. "You're pregnant?" She nods for the second time.
Either it's my flagrant disregard for her story, or the skepticism she must hear shine through my voice because her reaction is everything I have come to expect from Cassandra Radcliff over the last few years.
If she doesn't get her way, she gets vicious.
She slaps the bed, much harder than the way her arms floppily fell earlier. There's a fire in her eyes when she narrows them my way. "I'm carrying your child! Don't give a shit what you say because this baby can only have one dad, and that's you. I don't sleep around."
Oh, but she soon forgets she slept around more than I did. But that's not what has me so fucked right now. I'm still hung up on the fact she knew she was pregnant, which I'm starting to suspect is a goddamn lie, and still tried to kill herself. If she were pregnant with my child, even the dumbest person out there would know they had me right where they wanted me. I would have no other option but to take care of and provide for both of them until my child comes of age.