by K. G. Reuss
It took everything I had just to get through peeing on all the sticks. When I was done, I placed them on the bathroom counter and stepped back into my room to wait the agonizing ninety seconds for the results.
It had taken me four long days to decide to even look at the pills or tell anyone other than Enzo. I’d hope it was just a stomach bug. Worry had made sleeping impossible, which led to me and Jamie having a long phone conversation last night.
“If you are pregnant, you think it’s Cole’s?” Jamie asked as she sat beside me.
“Yes. Without a doubt,” I answered, my heart racing faster as the seconds slipped by.
Questions and fears kept throwing down in my head, making all the nausea worse. What if I was pregnant? What would I say to Cole? To any of the guys? And, oh my god, Ethan. Not only did I make him choose between me and the guys, but then I’d gone and gotten pregnant after that choice. I was sick. Despicable. Disgusting. My parents would disown me. Would I be able to finish school? College? What if I had to do this on my own?
The beeping of Jamie’s phone pulled me out of my thoughts.
“It’s time,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze.
I shook my head, not wanting to know yet desperate to know.
“Together, Rosalie. OK?”
I nodded, and she got up and went to the bathroom. When she returned, she was holding the tests in her hands.
“I didn’t look.” She kneeled in front of me. “It’s going to be OK even if it means we move far from this shit hole just the two of us and take care of a baby together. I won’t leave you alone in this. We’re best friends, Rosalie.”
I nodded, my throat tight, as she handed me the first test. Drawing in a deep breath, I stared down at it, my lips parting.
“Look at the next one,” she urged, her voice shaking, as she handed me the next test.
The same result greeted me.
“Last one,” her voice cracked this time, and I took the final test with trembling fingers.
Same.
Two pink lines, a plus, and a “pregnant”. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Thirty-One
Life never went according to plan. I should’ve learned that long ago. I mean, I had a best friend I thought would be by my side forever until tragedy tore him from me.
If I’d learned anything in my life, it was that the status quo was never meant to last.
“We need to talk,” Ian’s voice broke into my daydream. Or rather, nightmare, as I sat in the cafeteria at lunch alone.
Jamie had been a rock the last week. She’d been there for me as much as our secret friendship could allow. Whenever I saw Enzo, he cast worried looks at me. He’d even texted me, which I hadn’t answered. What could I say?
Nothing. The person I needed to talk to was Cole. And then Ethan. Or maybe Ethan then Cole. It was a screwed-up situation I was dreading partaking in.
“About what?” I asked listlessly.
“My place. Tonight.”
“Ian, I have rehearsal—”
“Then after. Long story short, I’m moving in with my dad until college starts for you. Then I’m getting a place near your college so we can be together. I just want to know if you plan on rooming on campus or with me.” He gave me a smile as I stared at him in disbelief. “I guess I should rephrase that. You’re going to live with me, so I want to at least include you in on the planning.”
“Ian—"
“Save it for tonight. I might be late getting there. Just wait for me in the living room with Andy. My mom won’t be there, and the kid could use the company.”
Alone. In Ian’s house. Where the flash drive was.
“OK. I’ll be there.”
“Maybe you can spend the night,” he added, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “We can finally get down to business.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Maybe. Want me to make you dinner?”
Ian straightened and stared down at me. “You want to make me dinner?”
I shrugged and fixed a fake smile on my face. “I want you to be happy. We’re going to move in together. What if you don’t like my cooking? We should probably practice some domestic duties.”
“The only domestic duty I want to practice is fucking your tight, little pussy,” he growled, his eyes glittering with darkness. “Don’t worry about food. You already have what I want to eat.”
With those parting words, he turned and left me sitting at the table, more than ready to feed him his just desserts.
“Rosalie, I need you more desperate,” Mr. Dennison called out during rehearsals later that day as I stood facing Fox.
Not one word past his lines had left his lips.
How much more desperate could I get?
I squared my shoulders and nodded. I had not one ounce of desire to do this stupid musical at the moment. All I wanted to do was call Ethan, fall into Fox’s arms, whisper my secrets to Enzo, and tell Cole what the hell was going on. I felt defeated. I was ready to be done.
“Again. From the top!” Dennison shouted, backing away from the stage.
“Nothing is as it seems,” Fox declared, his deep voice booming out around us as he delivered his line. “Not the sun. The moon. The stars. We only think we know, but it’s but a little piece of the truth.”
The truth in those lies doesn’t matter when we want to conquer the world.
Say the line, Rosalie! Come on!
My throat tightened as I stared back at Fox. He cocked his head slightly as he surveyed me.
I love you. I need you. God, please hold me again. I’m drowning in this mess.
“Rosie, you can do it,” Fox murmured so only I could hear him. They were the first words he’d spoken to me in weeks.
I’d missed the sound of his voice. The way his touch was tender yet demanding. His fierceness. The way he reached for me when I needed him.
I shook my head, my bottom lip trembling. I backed away. He stepped forward. I backed up again.
He reached for me, his brows crinkled, and drew me into his arms. Without a word, he tilted my chin up and studied me for a moment. Torment blanketed his face. It was the same thing which was eating me up inside.
And then he kissed me. His tongue slid over mine. I didn’t fight him. I fell into the kiss, letting my fingers twine through the silkiness of his hair, letting him hold me tight as he worked his mouth against mine.
There were catcalls in the theater. Mr. Dennison cleared his throat. In the distance, I was sure I heard Juliet, who was in the seats with Cole and Enzo, swear.
I broke the kiss off, my heart aching.
“Don’t,” Fox whispered frantically, clinging to me. “Don’t run, Rosie.”
“I-I have to. I’m sorry.”
And I did exactly what he told me not to do. I ran off the stage and didn’t stop until I was in my car. Then, I drove to the one place I hated.
Ian’s.
Thirty-Two
“Ian’s not here,” Andy said, holding open the door for me.
I stepped past him and went into the living room. “I know. He said to wait for him here.”
Andy shrugged and went back to his Xbox. “You can wait in his room if you want. Just don’t touch anything. He gets really mad about that.”
“Does he do that a lot? Get mad?” I asked, shifting my weight nervously.
Andy frowned. “Yeah. He’s not nice.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered, looking around at the small, tidy space. I barely ever had any interaction with Ian’s mom. She was always working.
“Is he mean to you too?” Andy asked, placing his controller on the coffee table.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Sometimes.”
“He’s mean to me and Mom. Sometimes he pushes her. He hits me when he’s angry. He’s like Dad.”
“I’m so sorry, Andy.” I moved and kneeled in front of him. “You should tell someone.”
Andy stared back at me with his big, brown eyes. “Why don’t you tell
someone?”
I gave him a watery smile. “Guess I’m scared.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “I wish he’d leave. He hurts a lot of people. If he can’t leave, Rosalie, maybe you should. You’re pretty like my mom. I think she wants to leave sometimes like she did with Dad.”
“Promise you’ll tell someone the next time he hurts you, Andy.”
“I will if you promise to tell on him too.”
I nodded. “Promise.”
He gave me a relieved smile as I moved away. He picked up his headset and put it on. I got to my feet and backed away, ready to do what I had to, hoping like hell the flash drive was where I’d seen him put it. If everything went to plan, I wouldn’t need the tiny pill nestled in my pocket.
When I got to his room, I entered and headed straight to his desk. Hauling in a deep breath, I said a silent prayer as I pulled open his drawer.
And there it was. The same drive he’d held in his hands. I quickly brought my laptop out of my bag and stuck the flash drive into the port. In a few seconds, I was able to open the files to find all the videos. Everything he said was there and more.
He’d taken a video of me, Cole, and Fox. Ian must have been behind a building off to the side of the corner we’d been. He had the video of me, Enzo, and Cole from Enzo’s basement. Ian had videos of me at my locker, talking to the guys. Everything was there.
I erased every damn file on it and shoved it back into his desk. Quickly, I snapped my laptop closed and stowed it back in my bag. Then I went back to the living room and called out goodbye to Andy who offered me a smile and wave.
My hand was on the doorknob when the door burst open and Ian came in.
“Going somewhere?” he demanded. He looked pissed.
“I-I need to get home. My parents want me there for dinner—”
“No. My room. Now.”
“Ian—”
“Now, Rosalie!” he bellowed.
Andy looked over at us, fear on his face. I gave him a smile, not wanting him frightened, and followed Ian into his bedroom.
“Andy. Leave. Go see if Ben is busy,” Ian snapped over his shoulder, mentioning Andy’s friend, Ben, who lived a few houses down.
Andy cast me a terrified look before rushing out of the house.
The moment we were inside Ian’s bedroom, he shoved me down onto the bed.
“Guess where I was?” he seethed.
“Your dad’s?”
“I was until I got a very bad text. You want to know what that text said?” He glared down at me.
“No,” I squeaked out.
His wicked laugh sent chills down my spine. He tugged his phone out of his pocket and shoved it in my face. There was a picture of Fox kissing me onstage only hours before.
“Imagine getting this and then being asked to meet someone. Guess who I met?”
“I-I don’t know, Ian—” My words came to an abrupt halt as his hand connected with my face, the sting of the hit making my eyes water. But I knew who he’d met. Juliet. She was the only one with this information.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, you little bitch,” he snarled. “You’ve been lying to me.”
“I-I haven’t—”
He let out another laugh. “I want to hear you say it, Rosalie. Tell me the fucking truth. You’re fucking Masters, aren’t you?”
“Ian, I—”
“Fucking tell me the truth!” Spit flew from his mouth as he shouted, his face red, his hands clenched into fists.
“You can’t hold me prisoner, Ian,” I whispered. “I don’t want this life. This isn’t a relationship! This isn’t how you love someone!” I rose to my feet and glared at him, knowing I was done. “Why do you want to ruin my life? What the hell is the matter with you? Don’t you want to fall in love and be happy? You can’t force someone to love you. Just fucking stop! You’re a psychotic asshole! No one will ever love you like this.” I balled my hands into fists, my body trembling from anger.
He stared at me for a moment before slowly approaching to tower over me.
Without a word, he gripped my face painfully. “Fucking tell me the truth,” he repeated. “Are. You. Fucking. Masters?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hands shook for a moment before he released me. Like a flash of lightning, he struck me again, snapping my head to the side. The pain reverberated through my skull, making my ears ring. Immediately, my hand cradled my aching cheek as I backed away.
“When did it start?” he snarled, his chest heaving as he raked in breaths. “Do you love him instead?”
“I don’t owe you an explanation, and yes, I love him,” I whimpered, taking another unsteady step away from him.
“You fucking slut! I’m your fucking boyfriend—”
“You’re my nightmare, Ian. Nothing more. I don’t love you. I hate you. I made a mistake ever being anything to you. You don’t deserve my friendship let alone my love.”
He let out an angry snarl and shoved me hard. I hit the wall and bounced off. His hands came at me again, this time twisting through my mess of hair and yanking. I let out a cry as he hauled me across the room by my tangles straight to his adjoining bathroom.
My mind immediately raced to the baby snuggled in my belly. I couldn’t let him hurt the baby.
“Stop!” I slapped at him, my eyes burning from the pain of his fingers tugging on my hair. Horror filled my chest as he pulled out a pair of scissors from his drawer, a look of pure hatred on his face.
“No. No!” I shrieked as he shoved me hard. I lost my footing and fell sideways. Without wasting a moment, I crawled as fast from him as I could with one goal in mind: Protect the baby.
His foot met my back in a ferocious stomp, sending me to my stomach in a painful slam. Wasting no time, he straddled my back and gripped my hair in his fist, tugging my head back.
“You won’t be so fucking hot without any hair,” he snarled. “No one wants a bald whore."
“Ian, no! Please!” I struggled against him, but it only fueled his fire.
When the first ribbon of red fell, the damn broke inside me. I gripped my hair, trying to protect it. I bucked and kicked beneath him as every chunk of hair fell in ugly, broken strands beside me.
And all I could think about was what Fox would say when he saw me. How he would react if he didn’t have my hair to run his fingers through. What he would say. What he would do. He’d always loved my hair.
I needed him. He’d save me from Ian. He promised he’d protect me from the monsters all those years ago.
And Ethan. What would Ethan do? Would he kill Ian? Would I let him? Would I risk losing one of the ones I loved just to be free?
And the baby. I had to tell Cole, but if Ian killed me, I’d never get the chance.
Ian let out a snarl and slammed my face to the floor. A sob ripped from my chest as I struggled to break free from him. It was no use. He was too strong.
I lay sobbing on the floor as the final strand fell. Ian stopped moving, and I stopped struggling.
“Why did you make me do this?” he whispered in a choked voice. “Why can’t you just fucking love me, Rosalie?”
I said nothing, sniffling softly.
A cry left my lips as he rolled me onto my back and stared down at me.
“Fuck. Fuck!” He shouted, his eyes wild as he took in the damage his rage had caused. “Rosalie—”
“I want to go home. Please, let me go home,” I whispered in a choked voice.
He moved off me without a fight and held his hand out to me. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me.
“I’m sorry, Rosalie. I fucked up. Please forgive me. I forgive you. I only wanted—”
“Let me go,” I said softly. “Please. I need to go.”
He released me, and I stumbled away, taking in the look on his face. It was something between anger and sadness.
“Rosalie,” he called out when I got to his bedroom door.
I paused and stared b
ack at him as he stood in the center of his room.
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “This doesn’t change our deal. You’re still mine.”
“I’m really not, Ian. Not anymore.” I stumbled out of his room amid his silence, praying he wouldn’t follow.
When I managed to make it to my car, I locked the doors and peeled out of his driveway, tears snaking down my cheeks and my body aching.
I was free.
Thirty-Three
Ethan: Where are you, sweetheart? Are you OK? I’m home. I want to see you.
My hand shook as I dimmed the screen and lay in bed with my blanket pulled up to my cheeks. I couldn’t face Ethan in the state I was in. He was back a day early.
I didn’t respond. Hell, I couldn’t even think straight. Instead, I turned and faced my bedroom window. The curtain was open, and so was Fox’s. His room was dark, meaning he was probably buried inside Juliet somewhere, even after our kiss.
I was crazy wanting him when all this shit was going on. What the hell is the matter with me?
A fresh wave of tears overtook me, and I shook, sobbing softly, curled into a ball. When had my life gotten to this point? I was pregnant. My hair was a mess. I’d been beaten. I hadn’t bothered to survey the damages. I just knew I hurt, and my hair barely brushed past my shoulders in uneven, choppy strands.
My heart gave a jolt when Fox’s bedroom light flicked on. I watched as he tossed his jacket onto his desk chair and ran his fingers through his hair. As if sensing my eyes on him, he stopped and slowly glanced to my room.
In moments, he’d crossed the room and stood at his window, staring at me. The tears continued to slide down my cheeks as our eyes locked. His brows crinkled before he pulled his phone out and dialed a number. A moment later, my phone buzzed. I made no effort to answer it as we continued to stare at one another.
He rested his hand against the glass, his mouth turned into a deep frown. Not able to handle seeing him, I closed my eyes, my body shaking from my soft sobs. I must have lay there forever before the creak of my door opening barely registered in my ears. Quiet footsteps padded across my floor. A rattle signaled my curtains being closed. My parents were out for the night, so I knew it wasn’t them.
