by S. Nelson
I relaxed, but not enough to stop my heart from continuing to slam against my chest.
“What makes you say that?”
“From the way she talked about him at the event. And twice he referred to her as Stephie, which is a nickname I’ve never heard used for her before. Just makes me think I’m right about this.”
“Hopefully.”
“Why hopefully?” She laughed.
“No reason.” My heartbeats lessened and fell back into a steady rhythm. I swore since last night, further back if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t know which way was up when it came to the woman sitting next to me. One minute I wanted to rip her clothes off, and the next she’d say something to piss me off, making me want to be as far from her as possible. Of course, sleeping together turned everything upside down and I scrambled to make heads or tails of how to move forward.
Cara’s phone dinged with an incoming message, and as she dug through her purse to find her cell, she looked over at me before pulling it out. Her fingers flew over the keys with lightning speed, replying to a few more texts, then tossing the device back into her purse. She looked out the window, and I couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that she was going back and forth with a guy.
“Who was that?” I asked, trying to be casual about it but failing miserably.
“Cody.”
My heart picked up its pace at the mention of his name. “Yeah? What did he want?” Again, my knack at subtlety failed.
“He wanted to know if we were still on for Saturday.”
“You’re still going out with him?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Because… you know.” I shrugged, not knowing quite how to verbalize my thoughts so that they made a lick of sense.
“Because you and I slept together?”
“Fine,” I conceded. “Yes, because we slept together. Are you happy?”
“Very. But we can’t be together, Ford. Not now. It’s weird, don’t you think?”
“Weird?” When I looked at her, she raised her brows. “I suppose,” I huffed. “But I don’t think you should go out with him. Besides, your father won’t allow it anyway.” That argument was the catapult that led to us sleeping together in the first place.
“Don’t start,” she warned, folding her arms across her chest and turning to watch the world pass us.
As the miles flew by, I was at a loss for how to continue our conversation, of how to handle whatever it was going on between us.
* * *
Cara
The word conflicted didn’t even begin to describe the way I felt about Ford and me, so I chose to keep things casual, stupidly saying we couldn’t be together. Which, in essence, wasn’t all that impractical to say because he was still employed to watch over me.
Refusing to allow my mood to be dampened, to have my euphoria snatched at having just had the opportunity to meet with James freaking Hollen, I bit my tongue the rest of the way home.
“Cara.” He threw the vehicle in Park and grabbed my wrist before I could jump out. “We need to talk.” Now I knew why men hated those four dreaded words. Whatever Ford wanted to talk about probably wasn’t good, and I didn’t have enough mental energy to deal with it because I was confused… about everything.
“Look at me.” I kept my focus ahead and away from his eyes. “Please.”
Finally, I relented. Big mistake. I saw so many things in his eyes. Confusion. Desire. Doubt. Hope. Or maybe I was simply reflecting what I felt onto him.
“I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”
“That’s something we can agree on then,” he said, releasing my arm.
“Can we talk later?” We had a few things to hash out, and I tried to be an adult about our situation, but all I wanted to do was run into the house and tell Emily all about the meeting with James. Then call Steph. Then call Naomi, whom I hadn’t seen in more time than I cared to admit.
Between her new job as a personal assistant for a CEO of some hedge fund company, or something like that—honestly, I zoned out when she tried to explain the details to me—but between her job and her budding relationship with Benji, mixed with what I now had going on, we hadn’t been able to squeeze in the time. But I would make sure to change that. Besides, I needed to celebrate, and I needed my girl with me.
“Sure.”
I hopped out and walked ahead of him inside the house, calling out for my sister as soon as I hit the foyer.
“Emily!” I shouted, throwing my stuff on the couch. “Emily!” Still nothing. I rushed up the stairs, the memory of my meeting exciting me all over again. I checked all the rooms, hers being the first but I couldn’t find her. “Emily. Where the hell are you?” Barreling back down the stairs, I saw Ford standing in the foyer reading something on his phone. “Where’s Owen?”
“I have no idea. But he’s here somewhere because Emily’s car is out front.” I walked through the kitchen and out to the patio. Maybe she was by the pool, although it was cloudy outside.
Two steps onto the patio and I saw it was empty. No Emily. Unless she and Owen went for a walk, which wasn’t uncommon, she had to be inside the guesthouse. Without knocking, I turned the handle to the smaller house adjacent to ours and entered. And there she was sitting on the couch, crying. Owen had his arms around her as he consoled her.
“What happened?” I asked, startling them both. “Is it Mom or Dad?” My heart thumped against my rib cage and I suddenly found it hard to catch my breath, all sorts of awful thoughts running through my head. My sister witnessed my reaction and rose from the couch to come stand next to me.
“Calm down, Cara. No one is hurt. Nothing happened,” she lied, the evidence of her fib trailing down her cheeks.
“Then, why are you crying?”
“Uh… just hormonal.” She stepped back and looked down. She was a horrible liar and we both knew it. Something was going on and I would get to the bottom of it, but I needed to get her alone. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her behind me, no resistance on her part, confirming some of my suspicions.
We passed Ford in the kitchen, and while he was still engrossed with whatever he read on his phone, he looked up briefly as we walked by, his eyes pinging from me to Emily and back again. I shook my head before he parted his lips to speak and disappeared upstairs, all the while keeping a strong hold on Emily.
Once we were inside her bedroom, I shut the door and gestured for her to sit down, taking a seat next to her.
“Out with it,” I demanded. “What’s going on?”
She hopped off the bed and started pacing, gripping the strands of her hair tightly. When she looked at me, I saw so much fear behind her eyes I became more concerned than I was initially.
“I don’t know.”
“What kind of answer is that? Of course, you know.” The last thing I wanted to do was yell at her when she was clearly distressed. She’d shut down altogether and we wouldn’t get anywhere. “Does it have anything to do with Owen?” Her head popped up at the mention of his name and she answered me without words. “What happened? What did he do?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Now she sounded like me whenever I failed to put my emotions into words.
“Come sit down,” I said softly, reaching out to take her hand. My sister and I had been extremely close when we were younger, and we were finding our way back to the way we were. It was slow but promising. I needed to put everything else aside and be there for her because she needed me. Plain and simple.
Emily accepted my support and sat next to me once more, burying her head in her hands before bursting into tears again. I allowed her time to purge her sadness and pulled her close to show her I was there for her.
“It’s okay. No matter what happened, you’ll get over it.” I threw out generalizations because she still hadn’t revealed the issue.
She pulled back. “That’s just it, you can’t get over a baby,” she blurted, and it took me several seconds for my brain to compute her words.
If she bit her lip any harder, she’d draw blood. Her chin quivered, and her eyes filled with fresh tears.
“I’m pregnant.” Once those two words flew from her mouth, she rambled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m not ready to have a baby. I’m not married. I’m not even in a relationship, not in the traditional way.” The more she talked, the less sense she made.
“Who’s the father?” I knew the answer before I asked, but I needed her to confirm it. Emily gave me an are-you-kidding-me kind of look. “Say it.”
“Owen.” With hunched shoulders and a despondent demeanor, she flopped back on the covers and threw her arm over her eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. Not only will Mom and Dad be disappointed in me, they’re going to fire the guys. I won’t ever see him,” she cried, rolling on to her side.
“I’m assuming he knows about the baby?”
“Yes, I just told him right before you dragged me out of there.” For a split second, I felt bad, but then my regret morphed into protectiveness over my sister.
“How far along are you?” She remained silent, so I asked her again. “Emily, how far along?”
“Five weeks.”
“Jesus. Did you sleep with him the first night you met him?”
“Like you’re one to talk,” she shouted back before crawling off the bed.
“I’ll let that slide because you’re upset, and not totally off base, but we’re not talking about me.” I approached and pulled her into another hug. “Everything will work out.”
She held on to me, and for as much as I hated to see her so upset, I was comforted that she’d confided in me. Not that I gave her much of a choice.
Moments later, Emily composed herself, wiping away her remaining tears.
“It was a week.”
“What was a week?” I asked.
“It was the week after I met Owen that I slept with him, but we wanted to keep that a secret. Both of us realized it should’ve never happened.”
“You only slept together that one time?” Emily shook her head. “So, you knew it was a mistake, yet you did it again?” If anyone looked up hypocrite in the dictionary, they’d see my smug expression right next to the word. Ford and I hadn’t slept together but that one time, but I’d thought about doing it again, and again.
“I love him,” she whispered and at first, I didn’t hear her, but when she repeated those words, all I could do was sigh.
“Emily,” I started, “you don’t love him. You hardly know him. I think you’re confused.”
“I know what I feel,” she responded angrily, her sudden defensiveness a sign I needed to back off before she shut down completely and stopped telling me anything.
“Did you tell him you loved him?” She nodded. “Did he tell you he loves you?”
“He said it’s complicated.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” I fired back, angry about the situation. My sister was a good person, and she didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought. Granted, I didn’t know a thing about their relationship or what they’d talked about, and Owen didn’t get much of a chance to react to the news of her being pregnant because I basically barged into the guesthouse and dragged her out of there. But still, the fact she was this upset riled me. Emily was the better person out of the two of us and she only deserved good things, not for some guy to tell her “It’s complicated,” even though that was probably the case.
I flip-flopped from one side to the other, trying to see both points of view, but I always landed on my sister’s.
A knock at the door interrupted my internal back and forth, the door handle turning before either of us could open it. Owen stood in the doorway, his left eye reddened, and looking like someone killed his dog. Ford stood close behind him.
“Emily, can I talk to you?” Owen was pushed to the side when Ford walked into the bedroom. He headed straight for me.
“Let them hash this out,” he muttered, reaching for my hand but I pulled back before he touched me. “Cara.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless Emily wants me to.” I stepped closer to Owen, prepared to do God only knew what, but instead of asking him anything related to the current situation, I asked him something else, curiosity getting the better of me. “What happened to your eye?”
“He fell,” Ford barked, grabbing my hand and dragging me from the room. Before I crossed the threshold, I saw Emily look down at our clasped hands, raising her brows before the door closed behind me.
“What are you doing?” I yelled, struggling to break free. Ford pulled me down the hallway and into my room, releasing my hand when he closed and blocked the door.
“They need to figure it out. Besides, there’s nothing either of us can do about it now.”
“Fine. But they better figure it out quickly or I’m marching back in there.” I paced the room, all my thoughts consumed with Emily. What was Owen saying to her? Was he flippant about the baby? About her? The prospect that he could be saying something that would hurt her angered me all over again.
* * *
Cara
“What really happened to your brother’s eye?” I asked, walking next to Ford as we approached the top of the stairs. As we passed Emily’s room, we heard them talking, but because the door was shut, we couldn’t make out what they were saying, not unless we pressed our ears against the door. He stretched his arm in front of him and stepped back, allowing me to go first.
“I punched him when he told me.”
“Are you serious?” In my surprise, I stumbled on the step but caught myself by grabbing on to the railing.
“Jesus, Cara. What are you trying to do? Kill yourself?” His worried tone receded when he saw I was fine. When we reached the bottom, we disappeared into the living room. At some point, Emily and Owen would have to emerge and we’d be waiting.
Getting back to my question, I pushed Ford for more information. “Why did you hit him? It wasn’t like we didn’t sleep together, too.”
He leaned forward on the sofa. “Yeah, but I didn’t get you pregnant.”
“How do you know?” I retorted, realizing the premise of my argument was both rational and asinine.
“Because we used a condom.” He ran his hands through his hair before leaning against the back of the couch. “Besides, this isn’t about you and me. It’s about them and what’s going to happen once your parents find out.”
“You’re right.”
“Holy shit,” he blurted.
“What?”
“You agree with me,” he said, a disbelieving smile spreading over his gorgeous face.
“Don’t get used to it.” I rose from my seat and had intended to grab a drink from the kitchen, but when I heard the click of a door upstairs, I refused to move. “I think they’re coming down.”
Sure enough, Emily and Owen appeared at the bottom of the steps ten tense-filled seconds later, both looking like they’d seen better days.
Would my sister tell me what they talked about or would she take a page from my book and keep everything secret?
“Everything okay?” Ford asked, standing, as well.
“No,” Emily and Owen replied simultaneously.
“We better figure something out because once Dad finds out, he’s going to fire these guys,” I said, throwing my hands on my hips.
“I don’t want anyone else watching over you,” Owen uttered, pulling Emily into a hug. Apparently, their talk hadn’t gone as badly as I feared.
My sister kept her hands at her sides and her eyes averted from everyone. She mumbled something under her breath before putting some distance between her and Owen.
“What did you say?” I asked, taking a step closer so I could hear her better.
“I said…” She took a breath, then another. “There won’t be any reason to.”
“To what?” Owen asked, seemingly just as confused with her rambling.
“To watch over us.�
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“You know damn well Walter is going to hire a replacement until the threat is gone for good,” Ford interjected his two cents that time.
“Well… that’s the thing.” Emily looked more uncomfortable than she did moments ago.
“What’s the thing?” The corners of Emily’s mouth kicked up, forming a tentative and unnerving faux smile right before she slowly raised, then lowered her shoulders. “Oh my God. What did you do?” I asked, having no idea what she was going to tell us. She clamped her mouth shut and took a step back, away from the three of us. “Emily, what did you do?” I repeated, breathing deeply to prepare for what would fly out of her mouth.
“I sent them.”
I swore the three of us tilted our heads to the side at the same time.
“You sent what?” I asked, more confused the longer this conversation went on.
“I sent the notes.”
I repeated her words over and over in my head, each time distancing myself from their meaning. I heard what she said, but it took my brain time to understand, and as soon as my comprehension clicked, I ran through all the ramifications of what she’d done, starting from the very beginning.
Not only had she lied to our parents and caused them unnecessary fear and worry, but she’d been the sole reason Owen and Ford had come into our lives in the first place.
I tied everything that happened back to her deceit.
Feeling trapped because I had someone watching my every move.
Going out of my way to rebel because of it.
Being confused whenever Ford was near me. Hating being around him but craving his attention, his approval in some twisted way.
Him fake kidnapping me to prove a point and scaring me half to death, a point which was now moot.
Having sex with him.
Wanting to have more sex with him.
Contemplating some sort of relationship with him going forward, but at odds with that thought due to our circumstances.
Revealing the secret I wanted to take to my grave.
