by Kate Benson
“Yes!” I hiss, pulling my phone from my bag and scrolling through the contacts, selecting the cab company before pressing send. “That’s exactly wh-” He yanks the phone from my hand, hanging it up and slipping it in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”
“Stop being a pain the ass and get in the fucking car, Evie!”
“No!” I stamp my foot childishly, making him shake his head.
“Are you going to make me throw you over my shoulder?” he threatens. “Because that’s where we’re headed.”
“Why? So, you can leave me at Walgreens?” I counter. “If I’m going to have to call a cab, I’d rather just call them from here.”
“Why the fuck would I leave you at Walgreens?” he asks, waiting for a moment for me to answer him and shaking his head once more when I don’t. “You need to lay off that fuckin’ weed, Evie. It’s making you paranoid as fuck.”
“This has nothing to do with weed!”
“Then what the fuck is your problem?” he demands. “What the hell happened in your fucking dressing room that made you start acting like a psychopa-”
“My period is late!” I blurt, my cheeks instantly heating as he stares back at me, his now stoic expression blurring with my tears. “Dash, I think I’m pregnant.”
dash
You know those moments in life where everything seems to stand still? Images of your best and worst days, flashing before you, making you wonder if you’ve died?
I’m having one of those moments.
I’m having one right fucking now.
Dash, I think I’m pregnant.
Her words hit me like a sledgehammer, although I can do little more than stare back at her. I hear her speaking, see her eyes widening in annoyance before they slowly begin to soften with concern first, then anxiety, then narrow once more in anger. I see it all and I know I’ve got to say something, but for some reason, somewhere deep down inside my gut, I think I also know if I do anything more than blink, I’m either going to puke or pass out.
I think I’m pregnant.
Her words echo inside my mind, growing heavier.
I’m pregnant.
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
“Dash?” she calls out, tugging gently at my arm before leaning in closer. “Did you hear what I just said to you?”
“What?” I manage, swallowing hard, my hoarse voice sounding nothing like my own.
“Are you serious?” she asks, her eyes quirking together, the expression there somewhere between sadness, offense and fury. The sight of her growing so conflicted combined with the scared shitless vibe radiating through her chest pulls me back just enough to nod. “Say something, you ass hat!”
“I um …” Fuck. “I thought you were on the pill?”
“I am on the pill!” she spits, balking at me. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Did you forget to take it?” I blurt. “How the hell is your period late if you’re on the fucking pill?”
My voice comes out wrong, the timbre in my tone making me sound angry when I’m feeling something much closer to shock and fear on levels I’ve never experienced. Somewhere deep down, I know it’s the stupidest thing I could have said. However, before my own common sense can stop the words, they’ve already spilled from my lips.
“Are you insane?” she hisses, her faint voice holding more venom than I’ve ever heard before in my life. “Like… seriously? Did you hit your fucking head in there or something?” she asks, gesturing sharply toward the building we’d just spent the last few hours inside before she takes a slow and seething step toward me. “Are you seriously blaming this on my inability to swallow a fucking pill properly?” she grates out, not waiting for me to answer before she continues. “Is that what you’re doing right now, Dash?”
“Evie,” I shake my head, rubbing my palms over my face, trying my best to steady my erratic breathing. Oh, fuck. “Don’t twist my wor-”
“I’m not twisting your words, Dash. That’s what you’re implying,” she insists through clenched teeth. Oh, my God. I’m going to pass out, I think as I lean forward, my hands resting on my knees as I blow out a deep breath. “That this is all my fault. We’ll ignore the fact that they make condoms. This is my fault because-”
“Baby,” I cut her off, my jaw set as I stand upright to face her. “Why would I use a condom if you’re on the fucking pi-?”
“Say the word pill one more time and so help me Jesus, I’m going to dump your sorry ass in the middle of this fucking parking lot, Dash,” she threatens, her expression harsh. “Do it! I dare you!”
“Pill!” I counter childishly, dragging the word out and enunciating like I’ve never enunciated before. Her eyes grow wide with rage like I’ve never seen them and a breath later, she releases a low growl of frustration. “Are you done?”
“Are you?”
I take a step away, pacing the empty spot in front of her for a beat. I can feel her eyes on mine, willing me to say something of substance, but I don’t have it.
Not this time.
I eventually brave a glance down at her, the same blue eyes that have become my weakness already staring back at me. On the surface, she looks angry. Scratch that – she looks straight up murderous. But I’ve pissed this girl off more times than I’d like to admit, and I know Evie King like the back of my hand. This isn’t the first time she’s threatened to dump me in a parking lot. Hell, even if she did it, that wouldn’t be a first, either. Not by a long shot. It is, however, the first time I’ve seen the look just under all that anger.
Evie’s not mad. She’s fucking terrified.
“Dammit, baby,” I sigh, unable to contain the shake of my head, my mind reeling as I fully face her once more. Fuck. “I know everything I just said was bullshit-”
“You think?” she cuts me off again.
“But in my defense-”
“You don’t have a defense!” she screeches as she throws her hands up. “Of all the stupid shit you’ve ever said to me, Dash, I swear to God that was the stupidest thing that’s ever come out of your mou-”
“Come on, baby!” I cut her off, watching her turn away from me. “You said you were on top of this shit!”
“Why do I have to be the only one on top of it? Because I have to be the responsible one in this relationship?” she spins back around to face me, eyes narrowed as she watches me begin to pace the lot nervously once more. “Because I’m the one with the uterus, I’ve got to take responsibility for everything?”
“No!” I rail. “Because you told me when I started fucking you that you had it covered!”
“I did, Dash!” she yanks at my arm, turning me to face her. “I did have it covered!”
“Then how the fuck is your period late?”
“What?” The sheer volume of his voice makes us both jump, but where my eyes begin to deadpan, immediately irritated, Evie’s widen in instant terror.
“Crap!” she hisses.
“Hey asshole!” he yells out, the sound of his footsteps approaching at a rapid pace making me release a low groan of dread. “Did you get my baby sister pregnant?”
Fuck this shit. I’m going to Mexico.
Three
dash
“Evie Grace, did you get knocked up?”
“Shit,” she whispers, taking a step back. “Shitshitshit.”
“Don’t say shitshitshit and run away from me, Evie Grace!” he warns as his steps continue to approach. I don’t have to turn around to know his eyes are just as wide as hers, that crazy little vein in his neck popped out. “You answer me right now!”
“Dash,” she says low enough so that only I can hear her, taking another step back. “He’s middle-naming me.”
“Evie-”
“He’s middle fucking naming me, Dash,” she repeats in a panicked whisper as she takes another wide step back toward me, gripping my shirt as she tries to hide. “Hurry, baby,” she says, her hands moving over my pockets. “Give me
your keys.”
“Oh, so now you want to get in the car?” I roll my eyes, glancing down to find hers growing wild with anxiety. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Where are they?” she demands, finding them in my hand and releasing a low growl when I tighten my grip. “Fine,” she rolls her eyes, glancing over my shoulder. “I’ll do it myself.”
“You’ll do what yours-?” My words are cut short by her expression. She’s about to run. “No, the fuck you won’t!”
“I’m sorry!” she whispers, her eyes jumping rapidly from his to mine, her lips moving into a weird morph of apology and awkwardness.
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
“I don’t think I have a choice,” she rasps, releasing her grip and flashing me a forced grin. “You’re gonna do great, babe.”
“Are you shitting me?” I ask, my voice a low whisper as I reach for her elbow.
Her eyes move to mine, apology written deep within her terrified features, and she shakes her head.
“Evie Grace!” Mason demands once more, making her eyes shut tight as her foot begins to lift from the pavement, her evil little mind likely already having laid out her escape plan. “Did you let this drunkard heathen knock you up?”
“Oh, my God,” she breathes nervously, tucking herself behind me once more to use me as a human shield. Precious. “Dash, don’t be mad, okay?”
“Am I going to have to tell people that my baby sister is a cheerleader in trouble?”
“I’m gonna be,” I promise her under my breath. “If you try to run and leave me alone to deal with Mason, I’ll be mad. For fucking years, Evie.”
“Well, I’m really sorry,” she starts, her foot lifting once more. “But you aren’t gonna like this.”
“Don’t fucking do it, baby,” I order quietly, reaching for her elbow just in time to stop her movement.
“Stop being selfish, Dash!” she hisses almost silently, using her body weight to push me toward him as she breaks free. “If this is real, I have to save the baby!”
I stumble back a half step and she twists to bolt, but I lunge forward, catching her at the waist.
“No!” I hiss out, her legs and arms flailing as she tries to break free once more.
“Dammit!” she rails as I set her on her feet beside me, rolling my eyes at the look of contempt on her face as she glares back at me, chest still heaving from her half-assed escape attempt. “How are you that fast?”
“You’re half my body weight and wearing a fucking leotard and flip flops,” I reason, shaking my head. “How far did you think you were going to push me?”
“Dash Hunter!” Mason grates out as he finally comes to a stop behind us, forcing his voice lower than usual in an attempt to scare me.
“Dude, I’m right here,” I start, my grip secure on my darling little flight risk as I turn to face him. “Why are you screaming?”
“Don’t change the subject!” he rails, eyes widening with warning. “Did you get my baby sister pregnant?” His chest is already heaving in fury, his eyes going wide. Sweet baby Jesus. “How the hell did this happen?”
“How do you think it happened?”
“Did he touch you, Evie?” he demands of his sister, not waiting for an answer before his crazy eyes swing to mine. “Did you fucking touch her?”
I glance around the empty parking lot, desperate to make certain he’s actually talking to me and I’m not stuck in some kind of fucked up revision of The Twilight Zone before my eyes move back to his.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“What?” he rails once more, his eyes somehow growing even wider.
“Look, dude, I don’t know what the fuck you want from me here,” I admit, shaking my head. “But yes, I touched her. I absolutely fucked your sister.”
“Oh, my God!” he gasps.
“Don’t gasp, Mason. You’ve known about this for like a month,” I deadpan. “Remember? Walked in on me fucking her?”
“That was two months ago!” Evie screeches from behind me. “You never listen to me!”
“Jesus Christ,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at her high-pitched tone. “Fine. Two. Two months, Mason.”
“Well, why don’t you listen, Dash?” she continues her rant from behind me, growing angrier when she still can’t take the keys I’ve got a death grip on. “You’re supposed to freaking love me, you jackass!”
“Evie!” I offer, my patience for this impromptu Springer episode wearing thin. “I’m kind of in the middle of something right now!”
“Just forget it,” she sobs, the sound of her childishly stamping her foot before she yanks her hand from mine and slowly grips the back of my t-shirt making me stifle a groan.
“Fine! It was two months ago and you’re the light of my fucking life,” I sigh, shaking my head, turning toward Mason. “What the hell do you want?”
“So, you thought you could just go and knock her up?” he grates out, his voice filled with venom. “Like some kind of ten cent floozy?”
“Dude.” My face contorts with his words. “What?”
“You know!” he shouts, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline. “I can’t believe you did this to her.”
“I can’t believe I let you do this to me!” she wails from behind me.
“I trusted you and you repay me by fucking my baby sister and knocking her up?”
“Oh, my God!” she cries out.
“Well, I hope it was worth it, because now I’m just gonna have to kill you.”
“Well, I might just kill myself,” I groan sarcastically, pinching the bridge of my nose.
I glance up just in time to see him clear the distance between us in three quick steps, his fist clenched.
Motherfucker, he’s about to hit me.
“Get out of the way, Evie!” he warns.
Friend-law says I owe him this one. We both know that, but before he can follow through, Evie jumps in front of me, blocking his assault.
“No!” she shouts, shielding me dramatically, her eyes pouring tears once more as he stops in his tracks. “You’re not killing the father of my baby!”
“Oh, yes, I am!” he argues.
I wish somebody fucking would right now.
“Fine! Just kill him then! Leave me to raise a baby alone because you have to win a stupid pissing contest, you idiot!” she wails. “Why don’t you just kill me, too, while you’re at it, Mason? You might as well!” she dares him, her shoulders falling as she throws her head back dramatically and lets out another sob. “My life is over!”
“Evie… your life isn’t over,” he promises, both of them missing the drastic eye roll coming from me. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“For the love of God,” I shake my head, stepping out from behind her and facing them both, starting with Mason. “If you’re gonna hit me, would you just do it already so you can fuck off? We’ve got bigger shit to deal with right now.”
“Hey!” Mason snaps at me, pointing his finger in my face. “What did I tell you, Dash?”
“What the fuck did I tell you, Mason?” I counter, eyebrow raised as I close the distance between us, slapping his finger away and hovering over him while he fumes. “Get your fuckin’ finger out of my face.”
“Fine. I’ll give you a minute,” he snips in a mocking tone, nostrils flaring in contempt. “But you better make it count because right after that, I’m kicking your ass.”
“Well, stand in fucking line, asshole!” I shout, extending my arms in challenge before shaking my head. Fuck me. “Your mother is so fucking normal. What the hell happened to you two?” I accuse, judgement leaving me when I glance back down at Evie. “Baby, you have to breathe.”
“I can’t!” she exclaims, her voice raising in pitch as the next flood of tears takes her. “Dash, I’m freaking the hell out!”
“I know,” I whisper, trying my best to soothe her despite the panic building in my own chest. “But you’re gonna make yourself pass out. You have to calm down.”
Only a second ago, I was ready to scream. The two of them make me so insane, even the roots of my hair were looking for an escape hatch. Now, though, seeing her like this, the gorgeous batshit crazy woman who completely stole my heart a few months back, all the fear and annoyance that was just coursing through me is little more than a distant memory.
I can still feel Mason’s eyes on us, watching us carefully to make sure we don’t make a run for it. Or maybe he’s just worried about me running, I can’t be sure. Either way, the thick fog of vengeance that was just spilling off him in waves is gone, too.
If I’m honest, that part doesn’t even matter anymore.
Right now, I just want to make sure she’s okay.
“Shh… hush, hush, hush,” I croon, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to my chest, grateful when she begins to relax into me. “Right now, you’re just late, right? I mean, you don’t know anything for sure, do you?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I didn’t take a test or anything yet, but I’m like… really fucking late, Dash.”
Fuck.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” I offer hopefully. “Maybe-”
“I’m never late,” she cuts me off. “Not like this.”
“Well, maybe it’s not nothing,” I admit, hugging her tighter to my chest. “But don’t panic until we know for sure.”
“Okay,” she sniffs, her eyes softening for a second when I lift the bottom of my t-shirt up to wipe her tears away. She leans her cheek into my hand, her fingers trembling as they wrap around my wrist to keep me close.
“Come on,” I whisper as I press my lips to her forehead and do my best to not join in on the panic attack. “Get in the car and we’ll go,” I lead her toward the passenger’s seat of my Mustang, willing her to breathe as she settles. “Are you going to be alright?”
