Steel Crew : Books 1-3 (Steel World Box Set Book 7)

by Mj Fields

As he pulls over a safe distance from the house, he tells me, “Whatever it is, whatever you choose, it’ll be fine.”

  I hug him then get out. “Thanks, Patrick.”

  “Anytime, Kiki.”

  I hurry down the block and cut through the tree line to get to the backyard, where I sneak in through the door that I left unlocked. I quietly close the door behind me and lock the deadbolt. Then I hear movement behind me and see a light flip on.

  “This bullshit stops now, Katherine.”

  Still facing the door, I hug the bag tightly to me. “I want Mom.”

  “That’s tough shit; you got me. She just fell asleep, crying in my arms, and then I receive a text alert that the card I put a block on was used.”

  “It’s my card,” I say in anger.

  “Might be your card, but you live under our roof; supposed to follow our rules. You’re grounded. The shit you pulled at school was bad enough, but then you take off in the middle of the night? That’s blatant disrespect.”

  “And so is cutting off my card. That’s my money, Dad—mine.”

  “Lesson learned. Don’t overpay your kids working summer gigs. Did the math; you make more than some of our mail staff. That ends now, for all of you.”

  “Well, I’ll learn my lesson elsewhere if you have your way. Thank God I look good in red and yellow. Now I’ll have plenty of time to practice the phrase, ‘Do you want fries with that?’.”

  Keeping my back to him, I start for the stairs, but he grabs me and hugs me. I make sure to keep the bag low so he doesn’t touch it.

  “Love you so much that this is killing me, but I refuse to let this be your life, Katy girl.”

  “Don’t call me that!” I snap and pull away. “And leave me alone!”

  He drops his hands, and I hear a sharp intake of breath as I run to the stairs.

  Inside my room, I lock the door behind me, fall to the floor, and allow myself just a couple minutes to mourn the loss of nearly everything I cherish.

  I pace the floor of my bathroom, waiting for the results of the test.

  “Probably should have studied harder at this one, too,” I huff as I sit on the closed toilet and look out the doorway to my digital alarm clock on my nightstand.

  I’d put that away a long time ago, since my phone was sufficient, but apparently, the parental units dug it out for me.

  Three minutes is a hell of a long time.

  Thirty seconds isn’t. There’s no way.

  I pull my legs up and rest my chin on my knees as I watch the clock tick from eleven-o-nine, then eleven ten, and when it finally strikes eleven-eleven, I close my eyes and make a wish. “Negative test results, please.”

  I open my eyes, stand up, and lean over the sink.

  “No.” I shake my head as I look at the two pink lines. “Nope. Fuck you.”

  I pick up the stick and toss it into the trash, grab the box, pull the other stick out, and sit on the toilet, willing myself to pee.

  Hanging up the house phone, I take a deep breath and begin to pace as I wait for Dad and Mom to make their normal six fifteen appearance when I hear Dad.

  “She’s not in her fucking room, C. So help me God, if she took off, that shit I said about Casa de Steel basement rehab wasn’t a fucking joke. I’m gonna get Gage here to set that shit up ASAP.”

  Hell no!

  “Dad, I’m in the kitchen.” And I’m about to crush you and Mom both.

  Max grips my shoulder. “You sure you don’t want to figure out what you wanna do before you tell them all?”

  Max picked the lock and came into my room last night and caught me crying as I waited three fucking minutes for the last test results, hoping, praying, wishing that I’d have at least one negative result.

  I didn’t.

  Max stayed with me while I lost my shit as I secretly tried to figure out how it could happen while on the pill.

  Maybe it was throwing up after I was called Bella …

  Max fell asleep, laying on my bed, while I cried. I didn’t fall asleep. I’ve yet to sleep. I stayed up researching conception date, due dates, and how to manipulate it all so that it would never be discovered that I got knocked up while on vacation with my whole family, when the only unrelated male present was one Brandon Falcon.

  “We made pancakes,” Max says when our parents walk in, clearly trying to soften the blow I am about to serve. But that blow needs to be served now. I owe them a moment to process before I confess to Uncle Cyrus and Aunt Tara to get Truth off the hook.

  “Might want to have a seat, because what I’m about to tell you is going to be broadcast on Steel news network in about fifteen minutes.” Feeling a bit dizzy and not wanting them to see me fall any flatter on my face than I’m about to, I sit.

  “The hell is going on?” Dad says, pulling a chair out for Mom.

  I wait until he sits, because I really think having a barrier between us is best for me. Then I take a deep breath and let it all pour out.

  “Truth was sticking up for me yesterday. We weren’t drinking at school, we’ve never drank at school, never would.”

  Dad leans back and crosses his arms with a look of disbelief.

  “This is hard enough, so please don’t be dismissive.”

  “Jase,” Mom whispers, taking his hand.

  “I was sick Monday, Tuesday, and yes, Wednesday. I was sick last night, too. But it has nothing to do with drugs or alcohol. I didn’t leave the house to score. I left the house to get answers.”

  “Kiki, just tell them,” Max whispers as he puts his hand on my shoulder.

  I look from the table and up at my parents, and I tell them the truth. “I’m pregnant.”

  Mom shakes her head. “You’re on the pill.”

  Dad scrubs his hand over his face.

  “Yeah, I know, which is why I didn’t think it was possible—”

  “It shouldn’t be possible!” Dad snarls.

  I expected this. It’s who he is.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m past my first trimester, so—”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dad sighs.

  “I want to make a doctor’s appointment to be sure, but if I am, I don’t think I can have an abortion. So, Mom, Dad, I’m having a baby.”

  Dad looks at Mom. “Virgins don’t have babies, C. You told me the pill was a precaution, not a precursor.”

  “Dad,” I call his attention back to me. “I’m eighteen.”

  “Who the fuck is the father?” he hisses.

  I shake my head.

  “No?” he asks, eyes wide.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The fuck do you mean you don’t know?” He laughs angrily.

  “It means I had a busy summer and—”

  “Katherine Ann,” Mom snaps at me then looks at Dad. “Jase, both of you, that’s enough.”

  “I want a fucking name.” Dad hits the table with his fist.

  “Never gonna happen,” I tell him.

  He leans in and narrows his eyes. “My house, my r—”

  “Enough!” Mom slams her fist on the table. “This is our house.”

  “Actually, Dad’s right; it’s your house. I’m an adult. I’m going to be a mother. I have money and a vehicle. I’ll find a job. But I am moving out as soon as Dad unblocks my card and—”

  Dad stands up. “The fuck you are.”

  “I am. I’m not going to live under this roof looking at two people who I’ve obviously disappointed. I’m not going to be pushed into having the boys’ baseball team on Springer to find out the paternity of my child. I’m not going to say I’m sorry every five minutes, because once will never be enough—”

  “It is enough, Katherine.”

  I shake my head. “Not for me, it’s not. I am completely humiliated by my decisions, but I will find peace in it someday. Hopefully, that day is before he or she is born. But it will definitely not be in this house.”

  Max whispers, “Kiki, you can’t—”

  “Max, trust me;
I can. I will.”

  The doorbell rings, and I stand up. “That’s gonna be Truth, Cyrus, and Tara. Probably Justice, too. After I tell them that Truth did nothing wrong, I’m calling Momma Joe. I want her to hear it from me.”

  I walk to the foyer and open the door. “Thanks for coming.” Then I step back, and they walk in.

  When Truth walks up to me and holds my hand, I lean over and whisper, “Did Patrick text you?”

  She nods as tears fill her eyes.

  I look at Uncle Cyrus and Aunt Tara. “Sorry about yesterday, but Truth was just trying to save my ass. She didn’t do anything. I got sick because I’m pregnant.”

  A Whole New World

  Katherine

  Before Justice and Max left for school, Cyrus told Justice what was talked about was between family was a delicate matter, and that he didn’t want a word mentioned.

  As soon as they left with Patrick, Dad handed me back my phone but still didn’t say a word to me. He, Cyrus, Mom, and Tara then walked into their home office and closed the double doors behind them. They never shut the door.

  Truth looks at me and whispers, “I heard Dad and Mom talking last night about sending me to a school near the summer rental house.”

  “In Mantoloking?”

  She nods.

  “That’s not far, but which school?”

  She shrugs. “I didn’t want to get caught snooping and get in more trouble, so I went to my room.”

  “Maybe I can get an apartment near there and—”

  “You’re not quitting school, Kiki. You’re a senior with a 1550 SAT score. You’ve narrowed down a million acceptances to NYU and Columbia. You’re going to college.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m having a baby,” I say for the first time without feeling shame.

  Truth’s smile begins to brighten. “You’re having a baby.”

  “I’m terrified, but I can do this. I know I can. I have great parents. Pissed off parents, but you know …” I shrug and look down. “I’ll be a good mom.”

  “And you have a helluva lot of babysitters.” She hugs me.

  When I hug her back, she asks, “I have to ask, Katy; who’s the daddy?”

  “Don’t be mad, but I can’t talk about it,” I whisper. “It hurts too much.”

  She steps back and grabs my shoulders. “While the rents are deciding our future—”

  “I’m deciding my future,” I tell her. “And my near future is telling Momma Joe.”

  FaceTiming with Momma Joe and Thomas, who are in Italy, spending time with her nephew Dominic’s, family, was highly emotional. She looked completely shook, but that quickly passed. Then she asked if I needed her to come home, and I told her no, not until her first great-grandchild was closer to coming into the world. I also told her it wasn’t doctor confirmed yet, but I wanted her to hear it from me.

  I made up a stupid excuse to get off the phone before she had the chance to ask me who the father was. I promised to call her tomorrow morning, and she promised to be home for Christmas.

  I did it all exuding confidence and a smile.

  Then … I got sick.

  A loud whistle from downstairs, followed by a text message, alerts us that the rents are ready for us.

  I push myself up from the bed and look into Truth’s hopeful eyes. “It’s going to be fine; you’ll see.”

  I love her, but I don’t think she understands that I don’t want to be here. That I don’t think I can handle anymore disappointment in my life.

  The thing that sucks is my thirty-second disappointment … on so many different levels, was of my own doing, and in order to make peace with it, I can’t stare in the face of those disappointed in me.

  I need to make peace with myself, so that maybe, one day, I can be a mom like mine, and Momma Joe.

  By nine o’clock, I’m exhausted from all the bombs that were dropped today. Some of my doing, and some of the parents.

  Within two hours of Max leaving for school, they had Truth and me enrolled in a private school in Mantoloking, a place I now detest—memory association … thirty seconds … fuck him—but Truth is ecstatic, and since I basically got her kicked out of school, I’m acting excited, too.

  Mom took me to the OBGYN, and I’m definitely pregnant, not like I doubted it. But seriously, how truly blissful is ignorance sealed in a shellac layer of sinful regret?

  Answer?

  Pretty fucking ignorant.

  Now let’s hope all the STI testing they did at the doctor’s office comes back negative.

  I.

  Hate.

  Him.

  But I don’t hate this life inside of me, even though the whole sickness thing is its fault … sort of.

  I put my hands on my belly and push it out. The doctor was more concerned about the fact that I haven’t gained any weight than the pregnancy. So, to appease them and Dad, I ate steak tonight, over the quietest dinner conversation I’ve ever sat through.

  Max is even quiet, though he did toss me a couple winks, but I know that I am making everything uncomfortable here, and the sooner I get out, the better.

  Tears burn my eyes as they threaten to fall, but I force them back and focus on leaving behind my youth and diving headfirst into adulthood.

  And to think, all teens are in such a hurry to grow up.

  I’m entering my second trimester, which is a lie, based on the date of conception I gave.

  Reality is that I’m almost there, but with the measurements of the baby, it was enough to convince the doctor. Apparently, I’m giving birth to a horse.

  Looking down at the sonogram picture, I see a baby.

  My baby.

  It’s kind of blob-like, but it has tiny little arms and legs.

  For a split-second, I thought it was a boy. It had a huge spherical appendage, which wouldn’t surprise me since the “cowboy” was actually hung like a horse.

  Thirty seconds would have won him the top prize if he were a bull rider but wouldn’t win him two thumbs-up from anyone he actually rode.

  “Luckily for you, baby,” I whisper as I rub a hand over my unchanged belly, “you’re mine, too. I’ll never disappoint you.”

  I look up when I see someone in my doorway. Max.

  “You talk to Bell yet?”

  I shake my head then look back down at the picture.

  “Kiki, she’s our sister.”

  “Been a little busy.”

  “Not too busy to tell the whole family, including Momma Joe and Thomas, who are in Italy, but too busy to call Bella, who’s just over an hour away in New York City?”

  Dad leans in, eyes narrowed, looking at me with clear curiosity.

  “Of course I’m going to call her.” I narrow my eyes at both of them. “I just wanted to have a plan that doesn’t include me moving in with her, Carter, and Luna.”

  Dad huffs, “You think for one second you’re moving from under my—our roof, you’re definitely insane. And that shit right there will give me legal rights to have you deemed certifiable.”

  “Jase,” Mom spits, “that’s enough.”

  “Nuh-uh, C. I’ve played by your rules long enou—”

  “It’s been less than twenty-four hours!” she yells, like, really yells. But then, well, then she loses it. “I will cut you if you push my baby any fucking harder.”

  Dad’s jaw drops, Max looks like he’s going to laugh, and I, well, I know this is all my fault.

  She grabs his shirt and shakes him, her face turning beet red. “Do you understand me!”

  Dad squats down so he’s eyeball-to-eyeball with her. Scowling, he pushes his forehead against hers and whispers, “Yeah, baby, I do.”

  Wiping my eyes, a sound escapes me that I didn’t realize I could even make.

  A cry? A sob?

  I don’t think it’s either. I think it’s my soul releasing every ounce of shame I’ve felt since … him.

  Mom, Dad, and Max all hurry toward me, and Mom and I cry.

  I wake up in m
y bed. Mom is beside me, Max is on the other side, and Dad’s asleep in my big black beanbag chair, pulled up to the bed, holding Mom’s hand.

  I don’t know how long we cried, but I do know we stopped long enough to FaceTime Bella. Dad did most of the talking, and he kept it together.

  Both she and Carter, aka Tags, asked that we do it all again tomorrow so we can tell Luna, Tags’ biological daughter, who Bella legally adopted. Tags seemed more excited than Bella.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes as I scoot down to the end of the bed and step onto the floor. My bladder feels like it’s going to explode.

  After using the bathroom, I quietly walk out to the dark bedroom, lit only by the moon, and then I head downstairs to get a drink of water … and meat?

  Why the hell do I want meat?

  Standing at the fridge, glass of water in hand, I search for any sign of leftovers.

  “Looking for something?”

  I jump at the sound of Dad’s voice and turn around to face him, for the first time since all of this began, alone.

  He steps forward. “Your mom craved meat when she was pregnant with you.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

  “True story.” He reaches over my head and pulls out a glass container that holds cut up pieces of steak. Then he walks over and hits the over-the-range light, sets the dish on the island, opens the drawer in front of him, and pulls out two forks, holding one out for me.

  “Is this a peace offering?” I ask.

  “No, it’s a fork,” he says as he walks around and pulls out a chair next to me, and then another and sits down.

  After a few seconds of silence, I realize he’s staring at the fork with a sad smile on his face.

  “So, with forks, you usually stab the item of food, like this.” I stick my fork into a piece of meat in the container. “Then you put it in your mouth, like this.”

  His lips curve up slightly as he stabs a piece of meat and holds it up. “Good, huh?”

  Chewing, I nod.

  “Grass fed, no hormones, or antibiotics—organic.” He shoves it in his mouth and chews it up.