“Ledger,” I breathe out.
“What?” he spits out. “You can do it. But I can’t say it?”
I blink back tears. “It’s not like that. Please, Ledger.”
He shakes his head again. “I know he’s back in town. And I know he isn’t playing anymore. I heard that. I know he quit right after that fucking championship game that ruined everything. I don’t know why though. But if history is any indication, I bet it has something to do with his dad, doesn’t it?” He laughs, all ugly and angry. “Good. Fucking fantastic. He never deserved to play anyway. He never deserved to go anywhere near a field. He doesn’t love the game like we do. He doesn’t respect it. So yeah, it’s fucking fantastic that he isn’t playing anymore. So what, did he use that on you? To get you to sleep with him, huh? Was this a pity fuck?”
Every word out of Ledger’s mouth is like shrapnel.
It cuts and bites. And makes me want to tell him to stop.
To just stop.
I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to hear the hate in Ledger’s voice.
“No, he did it to… to save me.” I focus on Con then, who’s sitting there with a blank, inscrutable expression. “The deal that he made so I didn’t go to juvie. His dad wanted him to quit soccer in exchange for my freedom and he did it. He works for his dad now.”
He got himself caged because he wanted to gain my freedom.
Then I turn to my other brother, the one who’s breathing heavily, staring at me like he can’t believe I made the same mistake again. “I know you’re angry at him, Ledge, and I don’t expect you to forget all the things that he’s done to you in the past. But —”
“Have you forgotten?” He speaks over me again as if his rage won’t be contained. “What he did to you. How broken up you were, how depressed. How we all had to see you sad. Do you know how difficult it was? Do you realize how fucking hard it was to see you pine over a guy who never cared about you? Who took you for a ride? Who only did what he did to get one over on me?”
I stand up from my seat then.
On shaking legs, I go to him and grab the sleeve of his t-shirt. “No. Absolutely not. I didn’t forget. I can’t, okay? That’s the whole problem. I can’t forget what he did and I can’t forget him and God, Ledger, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for putting you through all that. I never meant to fall in love with him. I never meant to betray you. Please, you have to believe me. You’re my whole world. You guys are my whole world and I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“But it did.”
Swallowing thickly, I nod.
Ledger studies me for a few long seconds before he jerks his arm out of my grip and begins to walk away. He walks out of the dining room and marches down the hallway, and I call out after him, “Ledger, what are you doing?”
I run after him when he doesn’t answer.
I find him at the front door, turning the knob and stepping out into the November night. I’m about to go stop him when I hear, “You’re not having a baby.”
Like before, everything stops.
My heartbeat. My breath.
I turn around to look at him. My oldest brother, who’s spoken these words. Who’s finally said something after I so tactlessly broke the news to him.
He stands in the living room, just by the leather couch, all tall and broad.
Commanding.
“What?” I whisper.
“You’re not having this baby,” he repeats.
“W-what does that mean?”
A harsh emotion passes through his features. “It means that you’re going to have an abortion.”
I put a protective hand on my belly then. It’s not even a conscious thought. “A-abortion.”
Con eyes my hand on my belly and his chest moves with a sharp breath.
“I’m going to call Dr. Hartley tomorrow,” he says, referring to our longstanding family doctor. “And see if he can recommend a clinic. Something discreet and reputable. I’ll try to get an appointment, probably for this weekend. It will be hard but I need this taken care of as soon as possible.”
“But I —”
“So you can go back to school Monday.”
“But I don’t want you to take care of it.”
His thick brows draw up together and his voice goes even deeper. “Excuse me?”
Swallowing, I take my hand off my belly and fist my fingers at my sides.
I run through all the arguments and points that I’d listed in my notebook. All the reading I’ve done and all the information I’ve collected.
Deep breaths, Callie.
I can do this.
I can absolutely do this. I can make my case.
“I don’t want you to take care of it, Con. I-I’m not getting an abortion,” I tell him.
“Are you fucking joking?” Con thunders.
I flinch at his tone.
I want to hide at his tone. I want to just agree with him but I can’t. I have to fight.
I have to.
I have to think of… her.
“I’m not terminating my baby, Con,” I say, trying to hold on to my courage.
“Your baby.”
“Yes.” I raise my chin. “My baby.”
When I was making all the decisions, I also decided that it’s going to be a girl.
As I said, I don’t remember anything about my mom except what my brothers have told me and it has always made me sad.
Not having a mom. Not having a friend in my mom.
So I’m going to have a friend in my baby girl.
Of course I know that you can’t decide these things, but still. I’m going to have a baby girl and I’m going to take care of her. I’m going to love her and be there for her like I imagine my own mother being there for me before she died. And as soon as I decided that, there was no thought of terminating her.
There was no thought of killing my baby.
I’ve already lost my mother, I’m not going to lose my baby too.
“Your baby that you’re having at eighteen fucking years old,” he snaps in a raised voice.
This time I’m better able to handle it though.
I hardly flinch when I say, very calmly, “I’m Mom’s age when she had you.”
His response is to clench his jaw, grind his teeth as he stares at me angrily. But again I don’t let it deter me.
I have to make my case.
“I know you think it’s a mistake. I know that. I know you think that I can’t do it. But I can. I know I’m young and it will be hard. I’m not saying it won’t be. But if Mom could do it, I can do it too. In fact, I have a plan. I made a plan, Con.”
I look around and find my green backpack sitting on the floor by the coffee table. “I have it in my bag. I have a list of all the things that I need to do before she gets here. First, I’ll quit school. I know that’s not ideal. I know that. But I need a job and I need to save up money right now. But I’m not giving up on my education. I’m not. I’ve decided to get my GED while I wait for her to be here, and once she gets a little bigger, I’ll enroll in online classes or night classes. There are so many options these days, Con. It’s not like before. I looked at so many brochures online and you can take out student loans. There are options for young mothers, see?
“And I know that…” This is slightly harder but I have to do it and so I forge on. “I know I have to quit ballet. I have to quit the dream of being a ballerina. But it’s okay. I’ll get a new dream. I’ll get a new goal. I can do it. For myself and for her and —”
“Who’s her?” he asks.
His voice has calmed down and I can’t help but think that maybe I’m making headway. Maybe he gets it now. I’m not all prepared but at least I have a starting point, right?
I touch my belly again and smile hesitantly. “Her. I think it’s a girl.”
He stares at my midsection for a beat, expressionless. Then, “What job?”
“What kind of a job are you going to get?”
“I was thinking my summer job. At Buttery Blossoms,” I say. “I guess it won’t be enough though. So I’ll try to get a second job. Maybe nights or something. Or on the weekends.”
“And where will you live? While you’re out of school, working two jobs.”
I swallow.
For this, I need him. I really need him and strangely, I’m so afraid to raise this point.
I shouldn’t be though.
He’s my brother. Of course he’ll see the wisdom in it. But God, after the past couple of years that we’ve had and the way he’s reacting right now, I don’t know.
I don’t know what he’s going to say but I answer him nonetheless. “I was thinking here. With you. Until I save up enough to move into my own apartment.”
“Here.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re not living here,” he says again, declares almost. “And neither am I going to sit back and watch you destroy your life like this. That’s why you’re going to get an abortion. I’ll take you to a clinic and you’ll get it done and then we’ll never speak of this again.”
“I’m not getting an abortion, Con. I’m not,” I repeat, this time in a louder voice, something I didn’t think I was capable of tonight. “Mom didn’t —”
“Mom is fucking dead,” Con snaps, his anger so thick and palpable, his blue eyes are shooting fire. “She’s gone and she isn’t coming back. But I’m here and I’m telling you that you’re getting an abortion and going back to that school to get your diploma. And then you’re going to that community college to become the fucking ballerina that you’ve wanted to be since you were five years old. End of discussion.”
I stare at him, speechless.
It’s not that I begrudge him his anger. Not at all.
He’s well within his rights to be mad at me. To be disappointed in me, but I don’t know how to explain it to him that even though I never expected to get pregnant at eighteen and it wouldn’t have been my first choice, I can’t kill her.
I can’t even call her a mistake because if I call her a mistake, then what about the rest of the world? The odds are stacked against her anyway and I have to do everything in my power to make it easier for her.
She’s mine.
I can’t undergo a cold procedure to flush her out of my body.
I’m already in love with her.
Conrad sighs then, deeply, heavily, as if trying to get himself under control as he begins, “She never finished high school, Mom. You know that, right? She dropped out. She never went to college. Never went anywhere outside of this town. Never did anything. She was born here and she fucking died here. And when she was alive, she worked three jobs. Three fucking jobs. But even that wasn’t enough. She was always falling short, cutting corners. She couldn’t afford day care. So I had to stay home whenever I could to babysit you guys.
“Do you think I liked that? Do you think I liked taking care of you? Wiping up spit and vomit? Cleaning up after you? Do you think a fourteen-year-old enjoys something like that? Instead of hanging out with my friends, chasing after girls, I was chasing after you. I was always chasing after my brothers and sister. When I went to college, on a soccer scholarship no less, I thought I was finally free. I thought I could live my own life now. But then she died. I wasn’t even in college for a full month when I had to come back. To take care of you all. Do you think I never had dreams of my own? Do you think all my dreams are tied to yours?
“Mom made a mistake. A huge mistake by having me when she wasn’t ready. And I had to pay for it. Me.” He pounds his chest. “I have to pay for it for the rest of my life. Is that what you want for your baby? To pay for your stupid mistakes? And what about him? Do you think he’ll help you?”
Him.
At the mention of him, the flutters in my belly go haywire.
I know — I read in the books — that you don’t really feel the baby until your fourth month. But I don’t care what the books say.
I can feel her now.
So strongly. So vividly.
She does this whenever he’s mentioned. Like she knows him already.
“I always told you to stay away from him. Always. He’s exactly like our father,” Conrad says. “Selfish. Arrogant. Irresponsible. Mom kept thinking that he would change. He would make promises that he would. But I saw him for what he was. He was a fucking asshole who never kept his promises. Who lied and who cheated on her over and over. I never told you that, did I?”
Shocked, I shake my head and whisper, “No.”
“Yeah, he’d cheat on her. He’d sleep around. Why? Because his freedom was taken away too soon. Because he didn’t want responsibilities. So Mom had to bear them. So Mom had to work herself to the bone to provide for all of us. I was happy the day he decided to leave. We were better off without him. Mom was better off without him. She bloomed after he left. Because he was poison. Mom kept thinking that he was a hero but he turned out to be a villain. Like him. The asshole who didn’t even protect you from all this.”
He did.
He did protect me.
He’s protected me in so many ways and hurt me in so many others but he did try to protect me from this.
It didn’t work. But he did try.
“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Conrad releases a long sigh. “Because if Ledge doesn’t kill him, I will. And I will make it painful. So you better pray that Ledge finishes the job and kills that asshole before I get my hands on him. But make no mistake, Callie, I won’t let you ruin your life. I won’t let you ruin your dreams. I couldn’t protect you before but I’m going to protect you now.”
“Jackson!”
I hear my name shouted like a vile curse from behind me and I stop walking.
I knew he’d come for me.
I got a couple of texts from my old high school buddies that Ledger has been asking about me, about where to find me. They didn’t tell me why but I could figure it out.
I could figure out that they knew.
That she’d told them.
I knew she was home this weekend. Pest told me because I asked. Because I’m done pretending that I don’t want to keep tabs on her.
Especially now.
And so I’ve been waiting for him, for Ledger, to come for me.
Like I was two years ago.
When I broke his little sister’s heart and him and his friends jumped me in the woods, the ones where she danced for me for the first time. Took him two days to come get me back then.
I’m glad he’s working faster now.
Turning around, I fist my hands at my sides as I watch Ledger stride through the parking lot. I just got done at the office, poring over this new construction project in the town of St. Mary’s, a strip mall.
It’s exactly as boring as it sounds but I don’t care.
I don’t fucking care that I have to work at this company. That now I might have to keep doing it for the rest of my life.
Before, I used to think I might get out one day.
When she’s graduated from St. Mary’s and she’s at Juilliard, too far away for my father to touch, I might think about winning this war.
But now I don’t care about getting out.
I’ll work here, if I have to. For the rest of my life. If that’s what it takes to keep my father happy and out of my life.
I have other concerns now.
Other goals. Other wars that I need to win, like protecting people.
Keeping them safe and untouched at all costs.
At any fucking cost.
When her brother reaches me, I nod at him. “Ledger.”
His chest is moving up and down in agitation. I can hear his furious breaths.
He’s always been a hothead. Not a good quality in a soccer player, but extremely helpful when you wa
nt to screw with someone. And I have. Screwed with him. A lot.
Just because I could. Just because it was fun.
Just because I was at war with my father and I wanted to win and Ledger was in my way. He’s more collateral damage. So I don’t blame him when, instead of using his words, he uses his fist on me.
I even see it coming.
I see his shoulders twitch and tighten, his right arm shifting back a little before he swings it and lays one precisely on my jaw.
Fuck.
He’s gotten stronger, hasn’t he?
The pain explodes in my jaw and I ricochet back, almost stumbling. But somehow, I don’t go down. I manage to stay upright, and that pisses me the fuck off.
This is all he’s got?
After what I did to his sister.
So when I finally straighten up, crack my neck and tap my pulsating jaw to get ready, I decide to up the ante. “Well, good to see you too, Ledge.”
My casual response enrages him more, as I knew it would. And so the next time he comes at me, he does it harder. So much so that I go back a couple of steps, my jaw on fire.
Yet I don’t go down.
Yet I straighten back up and face him, his wrathful eyes, his furious face as he bites out, “You fucking asshole.”
What the fuck is he doing?
He’s embarrassing himself. He’s embarrassing me.
I need him to do better than that.
“Yeah, same to you.” I jerk my chin at him. “Not that I don’t enjoy our witty repartee but care to enlighten me on why we’re meeting like this? Feels like old times.”
The vessel on his temple seems to be on the verge of exploding. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
I pretend to think about it. “Not really, no. If I was, you’d be laughing. Trust me. I’ve got a killer sense of humor.”
Another punch.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“You know, we could go back and forth like this,” I tell him, panting, wiping the blood off my chin, “or you could just tell me what the fuck your problem is. So I can properly thank you for this special treatment.”
That does it, I think.
That gets him going and he stares at me like I’m the lowest of the low. “Yeah. Yeah, let me tell you what you did. Let me tell you exactly what you did, you motherfucker.”
A Gorgeous Villain Page 33
