by Jordan Ford
“Your dad.” His voice is husky and laced with tenderness.
I look away, happy to go with that conclusion. He’s right. My dad is one of the many reasons not to see a doctor. What if the doctor insists he be in touch with my family? I don’t know how this stuff works, but I’m not willing to risk it.
Besides, I don’t want to have to admit my pregnancy to anyone…not even a doctor.
“Please, can you just help me home?”
My eyes are glassy with tears. When I look back, it’s hard to see Kade clearly. It’s hard to appreciate how good it feels to have him holding me like I weigh nothing, cradling me like I’m important.
With the threat of exposure looming, all I can do is fight my tears with a little sniff and lay my head against his shoulder.
Kade’s sigh is soft on my cheek. Hitching me up, he starts walking for my garage apartment.
Ten steps into it, the panicky fuzz in my head starts to clear and I’m able to hear the sound of his boots on the pavement and the birds tweeting to each other as they flit through the park.
I look up through my lashes, studying Kade’s face, his strong jawline, those mottled bruises.
I swallow my gasp. He shouldn’t be carrying me. Not when he’s so beat up. His poor ribs.
“I can walk.” I lift my head off his shoulder.
His grip around me tightens. “We’re nearly there.”
“You’re hurt,” I try to argue. “This is too much strain on your ribs. Put me down.”
I struggle for release but he holds me against him. “You’re hurt. Every time you walk you get that pain in your stomach. I’m not letting you go.”
“The pain in my stomach’s gone, and I’m more worried about you.”
His step falters for a beat as he glances down at me, obviously surprised. He blinks a couple of times, then forces a smile. It’s not really a smile…more like a sexy smirk. More like a mask to hide the fact that someone caring about him is unnerving.
“I thought you’d enjoy being carried like a princess. Most girls do.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes, my own way of hiding the fact that when he sets me on my feet I’m going to feel completely bereft.
I’m scrambling for a comeback when he turns into my street. By the time I come up with something good, we’ll already be there.
Biting my lips together, I try to memorize the way he feels. I’ve never been carried like a princess before and I probably never will be again. As soon as we reach my door, he sets me down but keeps his arm around my waist as I fish the key out of my bag and unlock the door.
He guides me inside, leading me to the bed and sitting me down before I have any say in the matter.
Not that I can think of anything to say.
Crouching down in front of me, he holds my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “Tell me what to do. What do you need?”
His eyes are so blue. He looks like he cares.
Tears blur my vision again. I need to say, “I’m fine. You can go now,” but the words are caught in my throat.
“Jules,” he whispers my name. “Please, don’t cry. Just tell how to help you.”
“I’ll be okay.” My voice is raspy and feeble. “You should get going.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right. Now, why do you think your stomach was sore?”
He’s still holding me, his thumb lightly brushing my cheekbone.
My chin starts to tremble. “I don’t know.”
Closing his eyes with a huff, he mutters, “This is why I want to take you to the doctor. Random sharp pains in your body are not a good sign. My grandma used to get them all the time. She did nothing for months and it turned out to be cancer!”
His eyes flash, wild and desperate, showing me a snapshot of how much his loss still hurts.
“It’s not cancer,” I whisper.
“Then what is it?” he shouts.
“I… It’s… I…” My face bunches as I fight the tears. “You really should go.”
Leaning forward, he gets in my face and softly barks, “Look at me.”
My eyes snap to his.
“I’m not leaving here until you either tell me what you’re not saying or you let me help you figure out what’s wrong.”
Crap, he means it.
I can’t win this one.
I don’t even have the strength to fight.
With a defeated sniff, I point across the room. “Under the couch. There’s a book that might help.”
He gives me a confused frown and then shuffles across the room. It only takes him twenty seconds to find it. Twenty of the longest, most painful seconds in the world. Or maybe it’s the twenty after that as he reads the title: What To Expect When You’re Expecting.
He stands there in shocked silence—his eyes bulging, his mouth stuck open—until I can’t take it anymore.
With a little whimper, I cross the room and snatch it from him, dumping it on the table and taking a seat. The tears start for real then, streaming down my face and making it impossible to see as I try to look up the right chapter.
The chair scrapes beside me and gentle hands pry the book from my white-knuckled grasp.
My stomach jerks with sobs as he starts flicking through the pages.
“How far…” He clears his throat. “What week…” He sighs and rubs his forehead. “Where should I be looking in this thing?” His voice is flat and unemotional.
I don’t know whether to be afraid of it or not.
Slashing the tears out of my eyes, I sniff and whisper, “Sixteen, I think.”
He glances down at my stomach, then back to the book.
My nose is running. I wipe it with the back of my hand. Super gross but I’m not thinking straight. My fingers are shaking as I swipe them over my pant leg, hoping Kade won’t notice.
“Okay.” Kade clears his throat. “I can’t see anything specific about stomach pain here, but…” He flicks to the back of the book, searching through the index.
I stay silent while he scans, absently rubbing my stomach while fighting tears.
“Here we go.” He shuffles in his seat. “Round ligament pain—a sharp, sudden spasm in your belly.”
He looks to me for confirmation and I nod. It sounds plausible.
Kade keeps reading. “Can be brought on by rapid movement like sneezing, coughing, laughing or standing up too quickly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Apparently it’s normal. Just the stretching of the ligament as the baby grows.”
My chest loosens. I didn’t even realize it was wound so tight, but it’s suddenly easier to breathe.
Kade’s tapping his thumb on the open book. It’s a fast, tension-building rhythm, and I curl in on myself without even thinking.
His eyes dart to me, his face flashing with some kind of emotion—sympathy? Regret? Disappointment? “I take it this is why you ran away from home.”
And it’s hard to breathe again.
“Who’s the father? A guy you went to school with? A guy from your old work?”
I shake my head.
“Does he know? Does anyone know?”
Biting my lip, I look to the tabletop. It seems the safest place right now. “Only my ex-boyfriend.”
Kade lets out a disgusted scoff. “Let me guess, he became your ex the day you told him.”
“No.” My forehead wrinkles. “He dumped me before I knew.”
Eyes that are usually so blue and bright are dark with anger. “He’s the father, right? He should be helping you.”
“He wanted me to get rid of it.” I suck in a ragged breath. “He even gave me the money. But then…I freaked out and just couldn’t do it. Do you know the baby has a heartbeat at six weeks? By the time it’s ten weeks, its arms and legs are already forming. I couldn’t… How could I…” I flick my hands in the air. “So, I figured I’d have the baby and give it up for adoption. There are plenty of awesome people out there who can’t have kids, and maybe I could fi
nd someone to give this baby a loving home.”
“Did you tell your ex that?”
I shake my head. “He wouldn’t have wanted to hear it.”
I don’t quite have it in me to admit I dated a racist bastard. I’m ashamed enough as it is.
“Well, you have a right to make this decision. You shouldn’t be forced into an abortion. What you’re wanting to do is really brave…and big-hearted.” He takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
The gesture should make me smile, but instead I dissolve into another puddle of tears.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Kade wraps his arm around me, pulling me close and kissing my forehead.
Why isn’t he yelling? Why isn’t he disappointed?
I should be cowering in a corner right now but he’s holding me, rubbing my back.
“I stole his money and ran away here.” I sob out the rest of the truth, figuring that will seal the deal. He’ll walk out the door in disgust any second now.
The hand on my back goes still and then the shift happens. He leans away and I hold my breath, waiting for him to take off.
But he doesn’t move. He just sits there staring at me.
I glance at him and nearly fall off my chair when I notice his lips twitching.
“So that’s why you’re too scared to go to the hospital. You think the police are going to cart you back home?”
“I don’t know.” My voice pitches. “He gave me the money to get an abortion. Which I didn’t. So, in a way I kind of stole it, I guess.”
“How much did you take?”
“Eight hundred dollars,” I whimper.
Kade’s laugh is soft and breathy. “That’s peanuts. The police aren’t going to scour the country looking for you. Besides, he gave you the money. You’re not a thief.”
“I don’t think he’ll see it that way,” I murmur, my lips trembling, giving away how scared I really am. “What if he somehow finds me? He’ll be so mad.” The words shake out of my mouth, barely recognizable.
Taking my hand, Kade presses it against his lips and gives me a fierce look that’s impossible to turn away from. “He’s not touching you. For one, he has to find you…and then he’ll have to get past me.”
My jaw drops and I have to blink a couple of times before I can respond. “But you’re leaving.”
“Not anymore.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’ll be okay. You have to see a doctor.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re pregnant,” he argues. “Pregnant women go see doctors. That’s the way it works.”
“For centuries women have been having babies without seeing doctors.”
“We’re past the Middle Ages now, Jules. You have to get checked out.”
“But—”
“I’m not leaving town until you’ve been checked out.”
I point to his face. “You can’t go to a doctor looking like this and not have questions asked.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to stick around until I can take you without making a fuss.” He seems so determined, his nose lifting with a stubborn will I won’t be able to bend.
“Why?” I whimper. “Why are you so set on helping me?”
His eyes light with a soft smile. “Because there’s nothing worse than seeing a girl cry…especially when that girl’s a sweet, kind-hearted Samaritan like you.” He brushes my tears away and kisses the end of my nose.
And I forget how to breathe again.
#18:
A Slice of Humble Pie
Kade
“You don’t owe me anything.” That’s what Jules whispered after I told her I was sticking around.
Was she nuts?
Of course I owed her!
She dragged my sorry, beat-up ass back to her place, patched me up, cared for me, cooked for me…and now she needs my help.
I still can’t believe she’s pregnant.
I definitely didn’t see that one coming.
What kind of asshole knocks up a girl and then tells her to get rid of it? Makes her so damn scared that she has to run away to secretly have the baby so she can give it up for adoption?
Jules is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met. How did she get reeled in by such a jerk?
My blood runs a little cold as I think about all the things I’ve said and done in order to get a girl to do what I want. I’ve smiled, charmed, wooed them into dark corners and out of their clothes…
I walk back to get my bike, feeling more and more scum-like with each step.
If any of those one-night stands showed up telling me they were pregnant, what would have I done? I’m sick just thinking about it. It’s one of the reasons I’m such a stickler about using protection.
Even so…
I shake the terrifying “what ifs” from my mind and go back to thinking of Jules.
As I absorbed the title of her pregnancy book, I wasn’t sure how to react. I couldn’t be mad that she’d lied. The only thing she knew about me was my first name and safe little tidbits from my past. I couldn’t be disgusted because if anyone knows anything about making mistakes, it’s me.
When she snatched the book out of my hand and burst into tears, all I wanted to do was cradle her on my lap and beg her to never cry again.
Those little whimpers of hers ripped right through me.
And then the look on her face when she was telling me about her ex…
It made me so freaking mad…and protective. I’ve never really felt that about a girl before. But just the thought of her being hurt by someone makes my stomach pitch. She’s alone and scared. I understand that feeling. I know exactly what it’s like to have no one willing to fight for you, look out for you, promise to stick around no matter what you do.
My thoughts jump to Trey and Riley.
Shit, they’re the best family I ever had and I freaking left them.
And now I can’t go back.
I need to stay here until I know Jules will be okay. I don’t know how long that will take but I’m gonna need some money.
Stopping outside Skate Home Bar and Grill, I gaze up at Keith’s office window.
I need my job back.
It comes with risks. I have to tell him the truth—or at least some of it—if he’s going to let me stay. Plus there’s the whole humble pie I’ll be eating.
Scratching the back of my neck, I grimace and nearly turn for my bike.
But Jules.
“Shit,” I grumble, and head for the stairs.
Keith’s still in his office. His eyebrows get lost beneath his hairline when I step in and close the door behind me.
“I need my job back.” Ignoring my pounding heart, I take a seat. “But I can’t tell you everything, okay? And what I’m about to say can’t leave this room. Not even Cassidy can know. Because it’s not just about me. There are other people who need protecting.”
“O-kay.” Keith threads his fingers together and rests them on the papers littering his desk.
I work my jaw to the side and scratch between my eyebrows. “So, thing is…there’s this girl who was in witness protection. She was supposed to testify against this murderer but things turned kind of dicey and she got shot. Her boyfriend is my best friend and I helped him get her somewhere safe. If she’s found by this murderer, or even the cops, she’s dead. So, I can’t go to the police about anything and risk them figuring out who I really am and therefore finding her. That’s why I haven’t told the cops about being mugged.” I shrug. “It’s why I lied to you.”
Keith’s expression has gone from skepticism to wide-eyed astonishment.
“So, I’m not a criminal. I mean, we stole a car to get away, but it was a piece of junk and…” I sigh. “And my name’s not Karl, but I need you to keep calling me that.”
Keith blinks a couple of times, still struggling to form a response.
“I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I hope you can understand why I did.” I shuffle in my sea
t, hissing as pain slices through my ribs. Carrying Jules home had been a dumbass idea. But like hell I was putting her down. She looked so small and fragile doubled over in pain like that. Something weird happened in my chest when I heard her gasp and saw that terrified look on her face. A lurching kind of desperation I can’t explain.
“Witness protection,” Keith murmurs. “Kid, you’re either an expert liar or…”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“Well, I feel like I’m listening to a Hollywood movie pitch. Shouldn’t the US Marshals or the FBI be keeping this girl safe?”
“Yeah, well, they were supposed to, but…they didn’t do a very good job. I know it sounds farfetched, but I swear…it’s the truth.” I look right at him, holding eye contact even when his eyes narrow.
“So, this witness. She’s safe now?”
I nod. “As long as I don’t do anything to screw it up.”
“Getting mugged probably hasn’t helped your cause.”
I snicker. It’s a self-deprecating kind of sound. “I think they just wanted to beat the shit out of me for disrespecting their cousin. They probably snatched the bag as an afterthought.”
“Was there anything incriminating in the bag?”
I wince, wishing I could say for sure. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe. They took my money but left my ID behind. I didn’t have anything in there that could link me to who I really am…I don’t think.”
“Right.” Keith looks confused for a second. “Do I want to know about the cousin thing?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Did you deserve the beating?”
I go to shake my head, then stop and shrug. “Maybe. I guess I need to be more careful who I make out with next time.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “You’re too good-looking for your own good.” He points at me, his voice stern. It reminds me of Dean Hancock and for a split second, I actually miss the guy. “Now if you can promise me to keep it in your pants and not get any more blood on my ice rink, then I’ll consider giving you the job back.”
My lips twitch. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
“So, that’s a promise, then?” Keith holds out his hand.
“It’s a promise.” I go to shake it, then stop. “You won’t say anything about any of this, right?”
