by Sophia Gray
“Now that really would be a lie.” I decline the next shot, but reach out and pull a bottle of beer over. After a long moment of thought, I shrug. “So what if I do like her? It’s not a crime, is it?”
Grant smiles. “Not really. But it could cloud your judgment. She’s already got you twisted around her fingers so much that you invited her into the group after just a few minutes with her. That could be both dangerous and advantageous depending on how you look at it. Do you even know anything about her family? Do you have any idea what she wants? Do you know if she can handle something as heavy as all this? What if she’s just a fling and you decide you don’t want her anymore? Did you invite her just because you’re attracted to her?”
As the man opens his mouth to ask me more questions, I hold up a hand to stop him. “You’re the bartender and bouncer. Not my dad.”
“Now you’re sounding like a girl again.” He laughs. “It’s my job to protect you, asswipe. And to serve you the best drinks anywhere. So you can either deal with it, or you can fire me. Either way, you still have a potential problem downstairs.”
“Fuck.” I take back a few large mouthfuls of beer and stare toward the stairs. Damn it, I really do hate it when Grant is right.
Chapter Six
Kristel
One Month Later
I’m leading a double life. College has most of my attention, and so does avoiding my parents. When I’m not caught up with all of that, I spend my time with the Black Knights gang. Will is a great teacher, but a large part of me wishes Andre is in his place. Besides, I don’t know how much longer I can hear him brag about fucking Danielle and Wendy.
“Keep your eye on the target. Eye on the target. Come on, Kristel, eye on the target. Your eye isn’t on the target, it’s on me. Stop that!” Both of Will’s hands are covered in red kick boxer pads. Each time I look at his face or anywhere else in the room, he taps the top of my head with one. It’s really starting to get on my nerves.
After one of the pads hits me in the face for the umpteenth time, I reach out and grab it. “No!You stop it! This is ridiculous! How is any of this going to help me? When can I come and hang out with you guys? When can I come for a ride or do something other than come down here with you and play games?” I know I sound like I’m whining, but I feel antsy and impatient. To top it all off, I haven’t had my period this month; it’s at least two weeks late.
Will smirks and taps me with the other pad. “You can hang with us anytime you want. I don’t care. What I do care about is you being able to defend yourself. I care about you understanding the rules of the group. If you can’t pull your weight, what can you do? Shaking that pretty little ass of yours just won’t cut it with the Black Knights, especially with the mood swings you’ve been having.” He steps back and tilts his head in a cocky manner. “Sorry to say.”
My jaw tightens, and I flare my nostrils. As I roll back my shoulders and grind my teeth together, I find myself at a crossroads. I can just leave, but that means the possible compromise of being here; or I can stay, but that means dealing with Will.
“Fine.” I huff the word out. “But on one condition.” When all he does is stare at me with that smirk, I say, “I don’t want to hear another word about how much fun you had with Danielle and Wendy. And I really doubt anyone else does, either. It’s been more than a month, and they’re still all you talk about. Don’t you have other things happening in your life?”
He clicks his tongue and looks thoughtful. “No deal. It’s a free damn country, and if I wanna talk about the good times, I’ll talk about the good times.”
As he takes a step toward me, my phone starts to ring. I offer him a glare before I answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, honey!” My mother’s voice is one of the most annoying sounds.
“Oh, mom… hey!” I do my best to sound enthusiastic.
“How are you doing?” Before I can answer, she keeps talking: “So, your father and I were thinking of how nice it would be if you came over for dinner tonight. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I curse inwardly, but on the outside I smile. “Oh! That sounds great. But –”
“Great! We’ll see you at 6. Bye for now!”
Before I can say another word, she hangs up. I stare at the phone as though it’s the most offensive thing in the world. “Shit.” My gaze lifts to Will. “I would rather hear about your sex life for the millionth time than go for dinner with my overbearing parents.”
Will lets out a chuckle and lifts his hands. “How about you pretend each one of my hands is the face of your parents?”
Suddenly those kick-boxing pads look far more fun than dwelling on my problems.
My parent’s house is small, but roomy. It looks bigger on the outside than it really is, and it’s not in the best part of town. Still, it’s not in the worst part of town, either. There are pictures of me everywhere, along with a lot of birds and pigs. For reasons I have never been able to understand, my father has always loved pigs. My mother is the one who likes birds, but that’s made obvious by what she’s wearing in every picture around the house. There is at least one bird on her outfits or as part of her accessories at all times. Everything else, for the most part, is all packed up in boxes. “Kristel, hello!” The shrill sound of my mother’s excited voice makes me cringe on the inside. On the outside, I smile.
“Hey, mom!” I open my arms as she wraps me in a tight hug. She nearly squeezes the breath right out of me, but I hug her back with just as much enthusiasm; no one needs to know it’s fake.
“Hey, Kristel. There she is.” My father’s rumbling voice fills the room.
“Hey, dad.” I pull away from my mom and give him a smile.
“How’ve you been? I feel like it’s been a while.” He hugs me, but not as tightly as mom just did. After he gives my cheek a kiss, he steps back.
“Yeah…” I brush some hair behind one of my ears and shrug. “I’ve been really busy with school and everything. It’s pretty crazy most days because when I’m not at school, I have to go back to my dorm and do homework or study. There isn’t really time for anything else.”
“I’m so proud of you.” My mother takes in a deep breath and puts her hands on her hips. “Our hardworking girl! Well, you deserve the break. I’m so glad you could find the time to come over for a visit. There’s so much to catch up on, too. I want to know everything, and your father does, too.” She gives me a brilliant smile and walks further into the house.
My father gives my shoulder a pat and kisses the top of my head before gently guiding me after my mother. I want to think that his hand is a comfort, but it’s all I can do not to pull away. Right now, he’s the most dangerous person in my life. As a police officer for the local precinct, he would have Andre and the rest of the Black Knights in handcuffs so fast, no one would be able to stop him. Worse is the fact that he would probably never let me out of his sight again. Somehow, I have to keep the other, more dangerous part of my life from him.
“So what’s for dinner?” I glanced up at my father, who gives me an amused look.
“You always did eat like one of the boys. Come on into the living room with me while your mother checks on the food.”
I give him my best smile and make my way into the living room. After a breath to settle my nerves, I sit down on the couch and clasp my hands in my lap. He sits next to me and crosses one leg over the other while he leans into the couch. The whole thing shifts with his weight.
“So what’s your average week like?”
I look over at him and play with my fingers. “Well…” I’ve always hated generic questions like these. It’s even harder when I have to lie. “I have full time classes Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. I’m studying English and creative writing right now with some journalism courses. When I’m not in class, I’m doing homework and studying. There’s a little café at the college where I sometimes hang out with Danielle and my other friends between classes. On weekends, I usually just have downtime so I
can process my week and catch up on sleep.”
“What about a social life? Do you ever go anywhere outside of college or your house?”
Paranoia creeps in, and I clasp my hands tighter in my lap. Does he know? No, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way he could know about my association with the Black Knights. “Not really. Sometimes I go to a movie or come here to see you guys. Mostly, though, I like to stay at the college. I feel safe there.”
My father is quiet for a few seconds, and I chance a glance in his direction. He’s watching me, but he doesn’t look too suspicious. I’m having trouble discerning exactly what kind of expression he has.
“I’m proud of you.” He nods and gives one of my knees a small pat. “It sounds like you’re doing well for yourself.”
I let out a slow, even breath. “Thanks.” A genuine smile creeps across my mouth. I’ve only ever heard my father say those words a handful of times. “That means a lot, especially coming from you.” Before he can ask what I mean, I continue. “I know it can be hard for you. Sometimes you’re away for long periods of time. I didn’t really understand when I was younger, but I do now. And it’s okay.”
He gives me a strange look before a smile lights up his face. He drapes an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Thanks, honey.” There’s a softness to his voice that makes me relax. It feels almost like it was before he and my mom got so overbearing.
I’m about to respond when my stomach lurches. I give him a smile and sit up. As I take in a deep breath, I place a hand over my belly.
“Kristel?” My father sounds concerned; I don’t blame him.
“It’s okay.” I give him a quick smile and swallow. “Could I use the bathroom? I remember where it is.”
“Of course. I’ll meet you in the kitchen; dinner’s almost ready.”
“Thanks.” My stomach lurches again when I stand, and I move quickly. I’m worried as I take the first left down the hall and the second right into the bathroom. There’s sweat all over my forehead, and it’s dripping down over my nose and my cheeks. The last time I felt anywhere close to this was years ago when nearly my entire high school class ended up staying home with the stomach flu.
There’s another lurch in my belly, and I lean over to grip the edges of the sink. My body shakes, and no matter what I do I can’t stop the trembles. Nausea rolls through my gut, and I groan in misery; this isnot how I intended on spending dinner at my parents’ house. One of those assholes back at the Black Knights must have been sick.
Without any warning aside from the previous stomach rolls and lurches, vomit churns up my esophagus and out my mouth. It is, and always has been, the most disgusting feeling ever. I gag as it all comes up and spews all over the sink and down the drain. My body suddenly feels weak, and I barely have time to take in a broken breath before I vomit a second time.
“Kristel?” My dad’s voice sounds from the other side of the door; he sounds worried.
“I’m… I’m okay.” There are tears streaming down my face. I’m far from okay. “I just need a minute.”
“Are you sure?”
Before I can respond, I throw up again. How can there be so much inside me still? Breakfast was hours ago. I clench my eyes shut and try not to cry too loudly. The last thing I want is for my parents to crowd me in sympathy. All I want right now is to be alone.
When I find my voice again, I say, “I think it’s just the stomach flu. It’s going around at school.” That’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“All right. Just holler if you need us.”
I spit out a mouthful of bile and shudder. “I will… thank you.”
As I listen to the sound of his footfalls fading toward the kitchen, I sag against the sink in relief. This has got to be, hands down, the worst visit I’ve had with my parents ever. “Shit…” I spit out some more foul-tasting crap, then turn the faucet on and wash my mouth out. My stomach still feels queasy, but it’s not lurching like it was.
Hands push back through my hair, and I straighten with a deep breath. The whole bathroom smells like barf, and I wrinkle my face in disgust. My body is still shaking, but I feel okay enough to sit down on the toilet. My shoulder bag is still on me, and I open it to look for some gum. As I do so, I notice a small box of tampons; my whole body freezes. Three things that I just thought were coincidence pop into my mind: The missed period; he nausea; and the, according to Will, mood swings.
Am I pregnant?
Chapter Seven
Andre
I feel out of place at the Pony Brooke Cafe, but when Kristel called me an hour ago, she almost sounded frantic. My arms folded across my chest, I sit there in one of the outdoor chairs with my biker boots propped up on the table while I scan the sidewalks and streets for Kristel. She always seemed so sure of herself at the bar, even among the boys. What could possibly have her so worked up now?
“Hello, sir. Can I ask you to take your shoes off the table?”
The waitress stands over me with her arms crossed. I tilt my head and look at her before I blow a bubble with my gum. After a few seconds, it pops. It’s immature, I know, but it usually gets the point across.
“I really don’t want to ask you to leave, sir. Shoes are very unsanitary, and –”
I tilt my head and glance over at her. “Bird shit’s not sanitary, either. Do you tell the birds not to do their business near the outdoor tables? What about the people who smoke and flick ash everywhere? I don’t see you telling them anything. Where are the signs?”
She purses her lips and looks undecided. After a moment, she rolls her eyes and walks back inside. I stare after her, then smirk and tilt my head back to stare up at the sky. “Come on, Kristel… where are you already?”
“Right here.” She leans over and looks down at me.
With a yelp, I jerk up to my feet and nearly head butt her in the process. “What the hell, woman?”
She giggles at me and plays with a long strand of blonde hair. Even though she’s smiling, I can tell something isn’t quite right. Her eyes have a strange haze to them, as though she’s sick or anxious. I can’t tell which.
“I made the big, bad Andre Zelnick sound like a girl. Do I get some kind of reward for that?”
I smile at her, but take her hand. “Enough with the tough girl act. What’s going on?”
Her shoulders slump, then roll back in what I can only assume is a shrug. She sits down at one of the chairs, and I can hardly stand the way she looks at me. I know something is wrong, but ever since that night at the bar, all I’ve wanted to do is ravage her until the only thing she knows how to say is my name.
“Why are you being so nice suddenly?” She looked down at my hand, which still has hers.
“I can be a nice guy.”
“I’m sure that waitress feels the same way.”
I offer her a tight little smile and slowly release her fingers. She clutches at my hand, though, and takes it in both of hers. “I have something really important to tell you, Andre.Really important. It’s not something you can just turn your back on or beat the hell out of if you want it to go away.”
A frown touches my lips, and I narrow my eyes on her. She’s scaring me with all this talk. “All right. Out with it then.”
“I’m pregnant.”
My jaw slackens, and I stare at her as though she’s just turned into an alien in front of me. No words come from my mouth. I honestly don’t think I can speak. She has got to be joking or out of her mind. There is absolutelyno way she’s pregnant.
When the words do finally come, they’re full of mockery and disbelief. “Is this a joke to get back at me for something I did way back when?”
“No.” Her voice is very soft. “I wouldn’t joke about this. It’s too big.” She swallows and looks away from me. “And I haven’t had sex with anyone except you since that night at your bar.” She traces her fingers across the top of the table before she moves to sit down next to me. Her eyes are on the table. She looks l
ike she’s about to pass out.
“Waitress?” I call out to the woman who wanted my feet off the table. She gives me a nice, long glare, but walks over to us anyway.” What do you want?”
“A glass of water and a glass of apple juice.” I pause, then add, “please.”
“Fine.” She stares at me as though it’s supposed to scare me before she turns on her heel and walks inside.
“Okay, Kristel?” I look at her and give her hand a squeeze so I can get her attention. “Do you have proof you’re pregnant? How do you even know?”
Her nostrils flare as she draws in a deep breath. “I went to my parents’ house in the suburbs for dinner last night. They invited me because they hadn’t seen me in a while, so I went even though I didn’t want to. Everything was going really well until it was almost dinner. And then…” She looks at me. “I started throwing up. There was so much, I don’t even know how that could happen. I don’t throw up, ever. Or I haven’t in a really long time. I also missed my period this month, which hasnever happened before.” She uses one of the napkins on the table to wipe at her eyes. Is she crying? “Will also told me I’ve been moody lately. He didn’t really elaborate, but that’s the third thing.”
