Make Me Dream (The Sage Creek Series Book 1)

by Dillon Bancroft

  “Um…I don’t know; I just found out I’m pregnant.”

  “Do you know the last date of your menstrual cycle?”

  “No…Like I told Dr. Grigg, I’ve been under a lot of stress. I haven’t had a period in months.”

  “She was in an abusive relationship,” Momma chimes in. It’s embarrassing to hear it out loud. I wish I could cover my face in shame and pretend the last two years of my life weren’t such a big farce.

  “Abusive, how?”

  “Physically…emotionally…verbally…sexually.”

  Momma cringes while Dr. Cash’s face falls.

  “I know you received this news a few minutes ago, do you know what direction you’re leaning towards?”

  No! I have no idea! Can’t she just make the decision for me?

  “Um…what exactly are my options?”

  “There’s adoption. You can have it either open or closed. You can keep the baby, if you feel like you can handle it. Or there’s abortion.” The silence in the room is deafening. “In the state of Virginia, it’s legal to have an abortion in cases of rape or incest. I’m not trying to be insensitive, Aria, but do you feel like this is a case of rape?”

  Can it be considered rape if you were in a relationship? I let it happen…I mean, I let it happen so I could live.

  “Why don’t we start the exam? We can see how far along you are and then we can continue the conversation.”

  She rolls the ultrasound cart over and has me pull up my shirt. She squirts the frigid jelly on my stomach and places the wand on my belly.

  I can’t bear to watch this. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see the gift Charlie left for me.

  A whooshing sound fills the room, forcing my eyes to fly open. It’s difficult to decipher the black, gray, and white that fills the screen. But there is one white kidney bean shape.

  “Is that it?”

  Dr. Cash nods and continues measuring the bean.

  “I’d say you’re about nine weeks along. Would you like to bring home pictures?”

  The little feet on the ceiling tiles carry me out of this room. How many people come in here hoping to hear good news? This isn’t a blessing. It’s an ugly curse. All of my past transgressions are coming back to bite me in the ass.

  Maybe Bethany Hunt was right about me. Maybe I was asking for it.

  “You have some time to make a decision. I can hold onto these, if you’d like. I’ll leave them up at the front desk for when you make a decision.”

  “Will it turn out like him?” She raises a quizzical brow, silently asking for elaboration. “Is…is behavior genetic? Will this kid come out wanting to destroy everyone in its path?”

  Momma sniffles.

  “This child is half you, Aria,” Dr. Cash says gently. “This baby will be surrounded by kind people—people who go out of their way to help other people. You have the power to shape this child’s life.”

  Until Charlie kills me.

  “Can I still ride?”

  A small smile twitches at her lips.

  “I highly discourage it. But you can ride horses all the way up to twelve weeks. Summer is coming up, so make sure to keep hydrated. I’d stay inside during the day unless you’re going to the pool or something. Regardless of your decision, take your prenatals.”

  Shoot me.

  “Around eighteen weeks of pregnancy, we can do an amniocentesis. It checks for any genetic abnormalities. With the trauma you’ve endured, I’d recommend it. Do you have any questions for me?”

  Shaking my head, she cleans up the jelly and crosses the room to wash her hands.

  “Any time you have questions, call me. I wrote my personal cell on the back. I know this is scary, Aria, but I’m here for you every step of the way.” I take the business card she offers me and shove it into my back pocket.

  “I’ll make your next appointment,” Momma whispers and steps out into the hallway.

  4

  ARIA

  9 weeks pregnant…

  Coming out of Dr. Cash’s office feels like a dream. Or in my case, a nightmare. Stepping foot onto the sidewalk, the ground moves beneath my feet. I suppose the Earth isn’t really quaking, but it feels like it.

  This new information is like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the slightest prod. The easiest thing to do would be to run away. Literally. Run until I’m out of breath and in the next town over.

  When Daddy gets a load of this, it’ll end any sort of attachment toward me. I’ll be that creepy has-been begging for shelter.

  “Running isn’t going to take you away from this, baby. Get in. Let’s get lunch.”

  Of course, I don’t have to say anything out loud for Momma to know exactly what I’m thinking.

  I settle in the truck, allowing the cool air to blast in my face while we drive across the street to Rhonda’s, a dining staple in Sage Creek.

  I feel like I’m walking a green mile. When I enter the black and white checkered tiled room, every patron would stare me up and down, and know exactly what I’ve been up to.

  Momma pulls my door open and stares at me expectantly. I’m rooted to the spot, but Betty Lou McKenzie is assertive and if I wait any longer to get lunch, she’ll lose her head.

  Rhonda’s is packed to the brim with the lunch rush. I keep my eyes and head down while everyone and their brother greet Momma jovially, eyeing me suspiciously, when Nicole finally shows us to our booth.

  It’s the person already waiting for us in our booth that sends a shock right through me. Jackie. My best friend. My ride or die.

  Her plump pink lips form a wide smile, and she shoots out of the booth to throw her arms around me and crushes me into her. Her chestnut hair tickles my nose, her citrus scent reminding me of better days when I crashed at her house and staying up all night.

  “Oh, Peanut. I’ve missed you so much,” she breathes into my ear.

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  Momma grins like she’s had this all planned out from the start. We take our seats and open the menu.

  I already know what I’m getting.

  “I can’t believe you’re here! When Annie called me last night, I was ready to jump in the car and head straight to you, but she said that wouldn’t be wise.”

  She was right.

  “Annie called you?”

  “We’ve sort of been keeping in touch when we stopped hearing from you. She wanted to let me know you were home. And safe.”

  Safe. For now.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hesitantly ask Nicole for a glass of water and the greasiest fries she has to offer.

  Another figure approaches the table, and slides right in next to Momma, a wide, shit-eating grin on her face. Annie.

  “How’d the appointments go?” she asks, bubbly.

  Here it goes.

  The biggest scandal in family history.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Annie and Jackie freeze. I’m sorry to drop it like that, but how else can I delicately tell them? The thing I need from them most at this moment is to show me a little compassion, even if they don’t mean it.

  “Aria, Sweetheart, maybe right now isn’t the right time…”

  There won’t be a right time. No matter what way you cut it, this is the lemon in everyone’s mouths.

  “Pregnant,” Annie breathes in disbelief.

  “Nine weeks along, apparently.”

  Momma frowns. The chances of the other patrons overhearing isn’t likely, since the place is buzzing loudly already.

  “Is it Charlie’s?”

  A laugh escapes me. But there’s nothing funny about this.

  “Yes. And I don’t plan on telling him.”

  “With good reason,” Annie sighs.

  “What are you going to do?” Jackie asks.

  There’s the million dollar question. I’ve been presented with three options. Every single one of them makes me sick to my stomach.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly.
“My options suck, and I don’t have a ton of time to figure it out.”

  “Abortion is off the table, right?” asks Annie. Her comment surprises me. I thought she’d be on the side of pro-choice.

  “Is it?” Jackie asks, turning to me. “You can do whatever you want, Peanut. This is hard…you don’t have to keep that reminder if it’s going to cause you anguish.”

  Annie grimaces, and Momma watches us like a tennis match.

  “I don’t know,” I repeat, exasperation leaking out of me.

  “I know I don’t have a say in this, but come on, Aria. You can’t just kill someone who shares fifty percent of your DNA—”

  “We are not shaming her if she needs to,” Momma growls.

  Annie shrinks and turns to me, lips pursed, and pain in her eyes.

  “Of course I’d support you no matter what you chose,” she says quietly. “But I think you should give it some thought before you make any hasty decisions.”

  “Could you do it?” I ask quietly. “Could you keep a child you didn’t want, that was forced upon you by a man who beat you senseless? I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I won’t let any of you make me feel bad about what choices I make.”

  Because I’ve made my bed and I’m ready to lay in it.

  “I guess it depended,” Annie replies cautiously.

  “On what?”

  “The situation.”

  Scoffing, I suck down my water until there’s nothing left. It’s so easy to put yourself in a hypothetical situation. In a perfect world, you can say you’ll keep the child. Because in a perfect world, you can push those thoughts of your attacker away, almost like he didn’t even exist. My reality proves otherwise. Even when I close my eyes, I find him staring at me, undressing me with his piercing blue eyes.

  “What about adoption?” Jackie asks, getting off the abortion talk.

  “All it would take is a bribe. He’d find out where the kid was sent to and hand over a fat stack of cash. The child would be taken so fast, and the pattern will continue.”

  I won’t subject a child to his way of life. I refuse to let Charlie teach our son how to degrade and humiliate women. I wouldn’t subject our daughter to a lifetime of abuse and unwanted attention from her father and his cronies.

  “So then the next option would be to keep it,” Annie deduces.

  And if I choose to raise this child to be a functioning member of society, equipped with good manners and a constant need to help other people—where does that leave me?

  Dead, most likely.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I murmur, shifting in my seat.

  “So we won’t,” Momma assures me, slyly giving Annie a warning glare.

  While the conversation moves past my transgressions, my mind wanders back to the apartment and a conversation Charlie and I had before the abuse started.

  If we were going to get married, he’d only want one child. A son. He’d hire the best tutors and send him to the most expensive schools. He’d speak at least four languages and marry someone of equal status.

  But now that I think of it, I wasn’t a part of those plans.

  Shock ripples through me. Would he have had me killed once the baby was born? Or would I have lived the rest of my life locked and chained in his bedroom—to be the punching bag he needed to let off steam.

  You got out.

  Yeah. I know. But did I? Because from where I’m sitting, I still have to make it out of hell. And now I have a miniature Charlie to watch out for too.

  It takes me a moment to realize my mother and sister are no longer in the booth across from us. Was I so checked out I didn’t see them leave?

  “They went to the bathroom. They’ll be right back,” Jackie reassures me. We marinate in the silence for a moment. But it isn’t long until she asks the question everyone else asks. “Why didn’t you reach out to me?”

  “He stole my phone. I wasn’t allowed to contact anybody.”

  “And nobody came looking…” her voice trails off. She’s right. Nobody came looking.

  “He’s not going to let me go, Jackie. He’s going to find me and end me.”

  Her bright blue eyes are muted and grow to the size of saucers.

  “Surely not with the FBI hanging around…”

  “They’re scary people. Some of the charges were embezzlement and extortion. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had people in the FBI keeping an eye on things.”

  I’m certain he does. Otherwise, how else would he have gotten away from every law he’s ever broken?

  Money is a powerful tool. It either enriches you or consumes you. And when it comes to Charlie Dodge, he’s well past being consumed.

  5

  ARIA

  9 weeks pregnant…

  Momma talked to my second mom, Jo, and was kind enough to send me a list of therapists around town, but to my surprise—not—there is only one woman. As annoying as it is that there aren’t enough women in this town, it makes my decision much easier.

  Dr. Lindsay Nelson. She came highly recommended from Jo, and even Momma had good things to say about her.

  To say I’m not looking forward to this is a severe understatement. Had it not been for Momma showing up and forcing me to get dressed, I probably would’ve stayed in bed all day.

  It sounds lovely.

  But it also sounds fruitless.

  Her office conveniently sits right next to Dr. Cash’s. Which means it faces the whole town and everybody will know I’m a crazy person when I step foot out of this car.

  Cowards never win. So I move my ass.

  The office is quiet and smells of lavender. I wonder if it’s intentional, for some sort of forced aromatherapy, or if Dr. Nelson actually likes the smell of it. For me, it’s overpowering. It makes my throat close and my heart hammer in my chest.

  Or it’s the anxiety.

  April, the perky receptionist with the platinum blonde hair styled sleek and loose around her shoulders, greets me with a warm, genuine smile. Something outlandish for these parts.

  “You must be Aria. It’s so nice to meet you.” She pulls out a clipboard and a pen with an oversized fake flower tied to the top of it and hands it over. “Just fill these out to the best of your knowledge, and when you’re done, Dr. Nelson will see you.”

  She brings me over to a white leather love seat and brings me a mug of tea I absolutely didn’t ask for. She gives me a reassuring smile and saunters back to her desk.

  It must be a crime to be that cheerful. It needs to be. Nobody is ever that happy.

  Five minutes later, Dr. Nelson appears in the hallway, calling my name. She’s pretty. And I’d say around the same age as Chris. Her chocolate hair is pin straight, and it compliments her olive skin. She wears a simple gray dress which hugs her curves and slim hips.

  I follow her down the hallway to her office decked out in leather furniture and a huge desk that takes up most of the room. I seat myself on the sofa, hands clasped in my lap as I take in my surroundings. Pictures of her paddleboarding, with what I can only assume are her parents and brother stand proudly on bookshelves. Her credentials are displayed neatly.

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself and why you’re here?”

  I blink in surprise, like this is some philosophical question. God, I don’t know. Read my paperwork, maybe?

  “I don’t know what to say…Obviously, I just got out of an abusive relationship. Everyone around me thinks this is a good idea, to talk to someone, but I don’t.”

  “Hm. Why is that do you think?”

  Because I don’t need to unload my baggage on somebody else.

  “I don’t know. It’s nobody else’s business.”

  She nods and sets the clipboard down, folding her legs underneath her in the chair across from me.

  “So then…why are you here?”

  I’m taken aback. Why am I here?

  “Um…”

  “Therapy can be scary. Especially when you’re coming out
of a dangerous situation. Did he make threats to you if you ever told anyone what was happening behind closed doors?”

  Yes.

  “Well…I don’t think it mattered much because he kept me inside all day every day.”

  “But he made the threats?”

  I hesitantly nod, waiting for the ceiling tiles to open up to a swarm of armed men, gunning me down for opening my trap.

  “Tell me about him.”

  My throat closes like he’s got me by the throat again. I see his hostile eyes glaring at me, the heat from the stove warning me to shut the fuck up now before I inflict any more damage.

  “I don’t want to talk about him,” I snap.

  “Aria, do you have any thoughts of hurting yourself?”

  My wild gaze meets hers.

  “Is that appropriate?”

  “It’s my job. When some women get out of these relationships, the little voice in their head becomes their abuser. They constantly tell themselves they’re not worthy. They’re disgusting. You get the picture. Most of these women end their lives because they think it’s the easier path. So tell me. Do you want to hurt yourself?”

  I laugh poisonously. “What do you know about these women, Dr. Nelson? Do you have any idea how terrifying it is for me to even sit here? If this was me a week ago, I’d be dead.”

  “I was one of those women,” she replies simply. She shrugs sadly as my face falls in realization. “I was married to my college boyfriend. One day he was nice, one day he told me if I didn’t marry him, he’d kill me and everyone I’d ever loved.”

  “But—”

  “I thought suicide was my only way out. So yeah, I tried. But I failed. I was able to confide in a nurse and they quietly moved me to a different hospital. There they contacted my parents and I moved here to Sage Creek. He signed divorce papers, but it doesn’t stop me from constantly looking over my shoulder. I may not know what you went through. Hell, it might not even be the same. But I went through my own version of hell, and I truly want to help.”

  I blink away the tears as I try to find my footing.

  “I was going to kill myself. Before the FBI got involved. Before I knew I was pregnant. If the FBI didn’t come along, I’d be dead. Because it was the easier option.”