by Jordan Ford
His sharp voice makes me nervous. When my dad’s on the edge, he gets really snappy just before a blowout. I shrink away from Antonio and shake my head.
“Come on, baby.” He puts on his flirty voice and comes back for more, his lips skimming my neck. “You know you’ll enjoy it,” he murmurs against my skin.
I stare out the windshield, blinking hard while he sucks my neck. The sky seems darker than usual tonight. Even though the moon’s out, I can feel the shadows.
Antonio’s hand is back on my breast. He’s moaning, obviously loving the fact that they’re a little swollen. He squeezes again and I wince, then nudge him away with my shoulder.
“Okay, fine.” He sits back with a huff. “Do you want to move into the backseat?” He points over his shoulder. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
“No, I just…”
“You just what?” His face scrunches in annoyance.
“It hurts,” I whisper, my heart starting to hammer.
His dark eyebrows dip into a sharp V. “Hurts? What hurts?”
My cheeks flame and I scratch my neck. “My chest.”
“Your boobs?” His head jolts back as he stares at them. “Why?”
I swallow. This is my moment. The perfect opening to tell him the truth.
Why—it’s just one three-letter question and it’s about to change my life.
Fear tries to choke me.
But he has to know. He has a right.
My chin trembles as I look at him. I reach for his face, hoping to soften the news with my tender touch.
“I’m pregnant.” I whisper the words so quietly I can barely hear them.
“What?” Antonio leans into my space. “What’d you say?”
I lick my bottom lip and swallow. “I’m pregnant.”
The words pop out loud and clear this time and Antonio goes still, like I’ve frozen him with a freeze ray gun or something.
The air in the car is sucked into a vacuum. It’s really hard to breathe all of a sudden. My chest heaves as I wait it out. Finally his head snaps in my direction.
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “I’ve taken a pregnancy test three days in a row. It’s been positive every time.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you think it’s mine?”
My eyes bulge. “I know it’s yours. You’re the only guy I’ve ever slept with.”
He doesn’t respond for a second, then suddenly slaps the steering wheel. “Shit!”
His loud outburst makes me shrink back against the door. I focus on my breathing, trying not to make too much noise. Stay quiet and invisible; that’s what Mom always tells me to do when Dad loses his temper.
Antonio grips the wheel, his olive fingers turning white. He looks like he wants to rip the thing clean off.
“You have to get rid of it,” he finally seethes.
I go still. “What?”
“Get rid of it.” He whips around to look at me, his eyes dark and commanding.
My fingers quiver as I touch my stomach. “It’s a child.”
“No it’s not! It’s a fetus! It’s barely a life.”
Having watched my mom grow two babies in her belly and give birth to each of my little brothers, I know the process. This thing inside me is a life. I’m not going to kill it.
I shake my head. “Can’t I just—?”
“You have to do it!” he shouts, his voice sounding ten times louder in the enclosed car. Raking fingers through his hair, he squeezes the back of his neck. His muscles are quivering. “Do you know what my dad would do to me if he knew I’d slept with you? I can’t have some half-Japanese kid running around!”
My eyes narrow into slits as a small burst of anger fires through me. It takes everything in me not to seethe out the words, It’d be a quarter Japanese, you idiot.
I stay silent, clenching my jaw and staring at him.
He meets my gaze, his voice firm. “You have to promise me, Jules. Get rid of it.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“You don’t have a choice!” He grabs my wrist, yanking me towards him. His breath is hot on my face. “That thing’s not seeing the light of day, you hear me?”
My eyes fill with tears. His grip on my wrist is hard and unrelenting. The eyes that won me over are nowhere to be seen; they’ve been replaced with a dark gaze that makes me think of my dad seconds before he slaps Mom in the face.
With a trembling jaw, I force my head to nod. “I hear you.”
“Good.” He shoves me away from him and starts the car. “Make sure you tell me when it’s done. I want to know.”
The engine rumbles loudly but he doesn’t take off. Pausing to look at me, he softens his tone. “Unless… Do you want me to come with you?”
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision. “No, I can do it on my own.”
“Okay.” He nods. “I’ll get you the money this week and then come see you after, okay?”
His ‘okay’ is sharp, leaving no room for argument. I nod, slashing tears off my cheeks. I can’t look at him right now. All I can do is stare out the windshield and fight the sobs jerking my belly.
I should have known better than to fall for a selfish bastard.
At least there won’t be a shotgun wedding followed by a life of abuse. I should be grateful for that, right?
So why do I feel like I’m about to shatter?
#4:
Goodbyes Suck
Kade
I didn’t leave the day I packed my bag.
Ana came down to my room and stopped me, telling me to just wait a few more days.
“Why?” I practically shouted.
“So I can dye your hair…eyebrows.” She shrugged, looking unfazed by my outburst. “Riley can make you a fake ID. You’ll become someone new. Stay safe.”
Leaning close to the bathroom mirror, I inspect my eyebrows. They’re so dark. And with my hair black too, I barely recognize myself. Ana’s made me promise to stay clean-shaven, as my stubble doesn’t match the color of my hair. I swore I would.
She talked me through everything she did so that I can repeat the process every four weeks.
“Just do the roots,” she said, touching my scalp. “It won’t take you long. Stay on top of it, though. Be vigilant. You want people to think you have naturally black hair.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be vigilant. You sound like Riley.”
She laughed and for a second it hit me…how much I was going to miss her.
Whether I want her to be or not, she’s kind of turned into a sister.
I wince and scrape my fingers through my black locks. At least she didn’t make me cut them off. It’s long enough to tie into a short stub, but I’ll leave the waves wild and free. They’ll get flattened by my helmet, anyway.
Pulling in a breath, I nod and turn out of the bathroom. Everyone’s waiting for me outside. Trey hasn’t spoken to me since I told him I was leaving. Riley’s been talking my ear off, warning me of all the things I need to watch out for. He gets annoyed when I don’t take him seriously, so I’ve been trying to absorb it all. The guy usually knows what he’s talking about.
He’s made me a fake ID that will definitely pass scrutiny. He’s always been a genius.
I’m now Karl Hannon, twenty-one years old.
Twenty-one—eligible to do pretty much whatever the hell I want.
Yep, Ry is definitely a genius.
Clomping down the stairs, I squint against the bright afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful day, perfect for riding the motorcycle. Excitement fires through me until I spot Trey’s gaze.
His anger is replaced with a flicker of sadness. Most would miss it, but I’ve been living with the guy for over two years. He’s gonna miss me, not that he’ll ever admit it.
I stop in front of him, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets and staring him straight in the eye. “I’m coming back, man.”
“Whatever.” He shrugs.
I roll
my eyes and turn to gaze down at Ana, grateful I apologized for being such a douche bag the other day. She understood why I said the crap I did. Forgave me for it.
Now she’s smiling up at me, trying to hide her concern. It’s not working.
“C’mere,” I murmur, pulling her into a tight hug. She laughs when I lift her off the ground and do a quick spin. Placing her back down, I hold her shoulders and try to look serious. “Now I know you’re going to miss me the most. But try not to cry too hard.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just look after yourself. Drive carefully. Be good. And don’t get anyone pregnant.”
“Yes, Mom.” I bob my head.
With a little snicker, she slaps my shoulder and then wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t forget about us, okay?”
I wrap my arms around her, holding tight, fighting the sudden urge to stay. “I never could,” I croak.
She sniffs in my ear and I let her go. As soon as Trey spots the tears in her eyes, he pulls her against him, holding her close and kissing the side of her head. She snuggles into him, pushing her finger into her tear duct to stop from crying.
This goodbye thing sucks.
Blowing out a breath, I turn to Riley. He hugs me without thinking about it. “Remember everything I told you, man.”
I pat him on the back. “I will.”
His blue eyes darken, shifting into the gray that appears whenever he gets emotional.
“I just need to get this out of my system and then I’ll come see you again. I promise.”
He opens his mouth to say something but changes his mind. Slapping my arm, he takes a step back so I can swing my leg over the bike. Getting comfy in my seat, I strap on the old helmet from the shed and then start up the engine. The motorcycle roars, vibrating beneath me and feeling pretty damn good. The open road awaits.
I glance back to look at my friends one more time, raising my hand in farewell before taking off down the long, steep driveway.
Riley had gone ahead and dug a path through the snow…or maybe it was Trey. I wouldn’t put it past him. The guy may have stopped speaking to me but he knew he couldn’t make me stay.
“I’ll be back, man,” I murmur, accelerating away and missing them already.
#5:
Into The Terrifying
Julienne
I should be at the abortion clinic, but I haven’t left yet.
Antonio dropped off the money the day after I told him, then stood right there while I called and made the appointment.
The clinic’s new, opened only six weeks ago. People have been protesting outside it ever since.
I feel sick just thinking about walking in there. Pushing past those people with their scowls and their signs. I shouldn’t let that sway me. It’s a personal choice for each and every woman in my situation.
I just have to decide what mine is.
I was due at the clinic twenty minutes ago…and I can’t make myself leave this house.
No one’s home.
My brothers are at school. Mom and Dad are at work. I got the day off especially for this. I pretended to my parents that I was leaving for work, then hid behind the garage until the house was empty. Mom was the last to leave and as soon as her car pulled out of the driveway, I snuck back inside.
I stare at the computer screen in front of me. The stages of a growing fetus are staring back at me, various pictures from animated to real. I’m still not sure exactly how far along I am. I’ve been trying to decide which time may have gotten me pregnant. It had to be that rush of passion that took us—the time we did it in the bathroom at Antonio’s friend’s place. Everyone else was drinking in the living room and as I was coming out of the bathroom, Antonio pulled me back in. His kisses were hot and hungry and I gave in to them. Because they felt good. Because they made me think he loved me.
I wince at my stupidity. I should have insisted on using protection, but I didn’t.
And now I’m pregnant.
If I’m right, which I think I am, I’m about ten weeks along.
I’m an idiot for not figuring it out sooner, right? But turns out spotting doesn’t equal a period, and I wasn’t smart enough to realize it. Or maybe deep down I knew and just kept brushing it off because I didn’t want to face it.
Ten weeks. According to what I’ve read, the fetus has a heartbeat.
A heartbeat.
That’s life!
I have life inside of me. And I don’t think I can just get rid of it.
Put it up for adoption, sure. I can handle that.
But scrape it out of me? Dispose of it? I just don’t know.
Every child deserves a loving home. Somewhere they can feel safe and cared for. An adoption agency could find that for this child. I’d be doing the world a favor. I could go on with my life, feeling good about my choices.
I glance down at Antonio’s envelope of money. There’s eight hundred bucks in there. That plus my savings gives me nearly two thousand dollars.
It’s enough to get out of here.
That’s what I’m going to have to do.
Because if I don’t go to that abortion clinic today and Antonio finds out, he’s going to come for me. He’ll drag me there and stand over me while they do it.
I shudder.
Using my thumb, I flick through the small stack of bills, my heart pounding as I think about what I could do with it.
Disappear. The word whispers through my brain.
There’s nothing stopping me. I have enough money to buy a bus ticket, move somewhere new. Surely I can find a job. I have experience. I can work until the baby’s born and then give it away. Surely there’s a loving family in need of a kid. I’ll do the right thing and then be free to…to move on, or to come back home.
Tears burn.
My heart’s still racing.
Indecision wars inside of me. Fear of Antonio’s wrath. Worry about leaving my mom and brothers. They’re only six and nine. Dad will lose it when he comes home to find me gone. I’m one of the breadwinners in the family. I’m useful to him.
My brothers hate it when Mom cries. They always hide in my room, under my covers, cowering against me until her wails turn to whimpers.
But if I stay, if I tell the truth about being pregnant, it’ll be just as bad.
Mom’s going to cry no matter what I do.
Dad’s going to hit.
And each day that my belly grows, it’ll get worse and worse.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I make a fist and pound the desk.
Sobs are threatening to disable me again. I’ve been fighting tears all weekend. I can’t let them win. Not yet. Not until I’m safe.
Snatching the money off the desk, I make a snap decision.
It takes me all of fifteen minutes to frantically run around the house and gather my stuff. I leave my cell phone behind; I don’t want anyone being able to call me.
My fingers tremble as I try to leave a note for my mother. The writing is wonky and hard to read.
Have to go. I’m so sorry. I wish I could explain.
Just know that I’m safe and I love you.
Give the boys a hug from me. Tell them I love them.
And tell Dad it’s not your fault.
Jules xx
I hope she can trust me enough to let me go. Laying it on her pillow, I brush my fingers over the soft pillowcase, wondering how long it will be before my head touches one again.
I’m so scared right now.
My will is folding, fear telling me to stop acting like a fool.
But I can’t.
I have to go.
I have to leave this house before my legs give out. Clutching my bag, I race down the hallway and out the front door. The neighborhood is quiet with everyone at work and school, but I run like someone’s chasing me.
I don’t know what my hurry is. I’m leaving behind everything I know and heading straight into the terrifying unknown. I’ve never felt so alone. So afraid…
&nb
sp; So free.
#6:
Restless Rush Hunter
Kade
I slow the bike as I enter Reno. It’s dark out and I should probably find somewhere to sleep, but it’s only seven and I’m not ready to call it a night.
I’ve been on the road for a few weeks now, working my way out of the mountains and into the bigger cities. I’ve stopped in a few places along the way, but I’m still restless. I don’t know why. I figured as soon as I hit the buzz of a city—hell, even a town with more than a few thousand people—I’d feel at home again. But the truth is, I miss my friends.
I don’t want to feel this way.
I can’t go back to those mountains. Not yet.
And so I push on, searching for that rush.
I just want to party and forget, but so far, it’s not really working. The two one-night stands I had last week did nothing for me. As I snuck out of the motel rooms and drove away at dawn, I tried to convince myself that I’d had the exact night I was looking for, but I came away empty both times. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Hot chicks and cold beer usually make me the happiest guy on the planet, but…
Easing on the brake, I rumble to a stop along the side of the road.
I’ve just spotted something that might put an end to my doubts.
“Hockey,” I whisper, a smile cresting my lips as I stare at the rink I’ve just spotted. There’s an open park with a few scattered trees, and through them is a place to call home.
Gunning the engine, I spin the bike around and speed to the next road, squealing to a stop in the parking lot. I park the bike near the entrance and head inside. The sounds of slapping sticks and skates cutting through ice make my heart sing. I practically run down the ramp, stopping near the glass to take in the intense game.
I have no idea who’s playing and I don’t even care. Walking up the bleachers, I take a seat, resting my elbows on my knees and soaking in the game. It must just be a practice as no one’s around to watch. Except for a guy standing on the edge of the rink—probably the coach—and a girl sitting in the other bleachers, chewing on a burger. She’s about three rows up, exactly opposite me.
