Dramatic? Two months without a period isn’t dramatic, but the birth will be.
Stress can make you miss a period too.
So does sperm.
“Fuck!” I hiss at myself giving my head a shake as I fumble with the box and manage to pull one of the tests free.
It quakes in my hand as I look over at the toilet. “Okay, it takes five minutes to get results. Not too long.” I whisper to myself.
But it’s long enough that I should probably run the water so Connor thinks I’m getting cleaned up. The less questions I raise for him the better.
Quickly I run the water and turn on the shower, not caring about whether it’s hot or cold since I won’t be stepping in it. Instead I rush over the toilet and hold the stick between my legs as I pee over the tab.
There. It’s done. Now I just have to wait.
I finish peeing and place the plastic cap back over the end, holding my breath as I stare at the small digital screen.
Five minutes is an eternity when you’re waiting for a little digital readout to tell you what your future holds. One where you carry on as usual and the only thing to figure out is how to make Connor and I work when Marcus is still so angry with him. Or the future with diapers, night feedings and a baby daddy my brother despises.
I groan as the screen still hasn’t told me my fate. Picking up the test, I give it a little shake, knowing full well it won’t hurry it along, but wishing something would make this all go faster.
Suddenly the screen begins to morph and the bathroom handle jiggles loudly, making me yelp.
“Hey Charlotte, you never told me you were taking a shower. That would’ve got me up, I can’t wait to slide the soap all over your…”
Connor opens the door wide and I freeze in place as his eyes slide over me in confusion, and then lock on to the test on the counter.
“Is that? Oh no,” he rubs his hand over his dark hair. “Are you?” He steps inside as I step forward to the vanity and we peer down at the screen together, neither one of us breathing.
I blink but the words I’m reading don’t change. They stay as permanent and real as the baby I’m carrying inside me.
Pregnant: 6-8 weeks.
18|Connor
“Oh shit,” the words slip out of my mouth before I have a chance to clamp it shut. Behind us the water is running in my shower. I don’t know how to process this. I thought I was coming in here to get her all soaped up and clean so I could get her dirty again.
She’s pregnant.
“Is it mine?” I immediately regret asking as I see the pain flicker in her eyes.
She doesn’t speak, just nods as her eyes fill with tears.
This isn’t how I pictured any of this going. But that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. I mean, I don’t know the first thing about raising a baby, but people have been doing it for centuries, right? I can learn.
If that’s what she wants. I don’t even know if she plans to keep it.
“What are you going to do?” I look back down at the test, part of me waiting to wake up from a vivid, crazy dream.
“What do you mean? What am I going to do?” Her tone is like a razor’s edge and I glance over at her with surprise.
“I mean, do you want to keep it?” I try to reach for her hand, but she swats me away. I just want to support her in her decision. I’m all about a woman having the right to do with her body what she wants. I don’t want to go buy a big book of baby names and let myself get excited about being a father if she’s ready to run off to a clinic.
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots,” she murmurs down at the test as fat tears spill over her cheeks.
“What? Hey, come here?” I try to pull her into me, but she steps back.
“I can’t do this right now. I need some time to think,” she rakes her fingers through her hair and looks down at the floor.
“Of course, that makes sense. Sure, I’ll give you some space,” I step back toward the door.
“I am going to keep it, Connor,” she searches my face for an argument, but I’m not going to give her one. I get the feeling she’s looking for a fight, but I’m the wrong guy.
“Then we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry, Charlotte, it’s all going to be fine,” I try to grab her hands but she pulls away again.
“Fine, yeah, sure,” she chokes on the words. “My brother hates your guts and now I’m pregnant with your child. He’s the only family I have left in this whole world. The only one who was there when our parents were taken from us, and now he’s going to hate me.” Her voice cracks as the tears pour over her face, dripping from her quivering chin.
“Charlotte, hey, don’t worry about any of that right now. Please? Let’s just get you to a doctor and get a blood test and we’ll figure this thing out bit by bit.”
“You don’t get it, Connor. I can’t figure this out with you. Not if it means losing the only blood I have left. Marcus is far from perfect, but he’s all I’ve had ever since the accident. If I lose him,” she sobs, “then it’s like losing my parents all over again. It’s like the night the cops showed up at our house and told us that they were gone. That one thread I’ve been hanging on to all these years will be cut,” she rushes past me through the doorframe and begins gathering her clothes.
“That’s not going to happen. You’re feeling emotional right now, I get that. But I know Marcus, he’s not going to shut you out when you need him. If anything, this will bring us all together,” I hold out my hands as she pulls on her bra and dress.
“You knew him,” she corrects me. “I’m sorry, Connor, but I need to figure this out. Can you take me back to town? I’ve gotta grab my car and head home.”
“Yeah, sure,” I begin to search my place for my keys but realize I’m still not wearing a stitch. “Just give me a sec to get dressed,” I race up to the loft and quickly slip into some clothes.
When I get back downstairs, Charlotte is already waiting in the truck for me, gazing out the window with a thousand mile stare I thought was only reserved for guys who’ve been in battle.
I put my shoes on and join her in the old beater, hoping to make her smile. “We’re gonna be a great team, Lottie. Don’t worry, this is all going to work out fine.”
“It’s not fine, Connor. And, I’m not sure if we’re going to make a great team, cause I’m not sure if I can see you anymore,” she doesn’t move her eyes from the passenger side window and I don’t know what to say to that. Only minutes ago I learned that I’m going to be a dad and just like that, poof, it sounds like she might not want me involved at all. It’s all too much to process.
I turn the key in the ignition and set my jaw as I concentrate on getting the mother of my child back to her car safely. Because once I drop her off there, I’m going to have a little chat with her brother.
19|Connor
The drive back into town is excruciatingly silent. It doesn’t help that my radio is busted in this old dust bucket. It makes every sigh, every fidget against the seat, hell, practically every blink of Charlotte’s long lashes, like a blood curling scream into a cave. The noise is amplified by the emptiness.
I hit my turn signal and pull into the Lawton’s drug store where I stumbled across Charlotte yesterday. Damn, was that only a day ago? I feel like too much has happened in the last twenty-four hours to reasonably fit into a day. First running into her and finally getting her to give me a chance again, then the epic, all-night sex, only to end up where we started except this time it’s not just about us. Now there’s a baby to think about too.
That’s why she was out here, the realization hits me as I stare up at the familiar Lawton’s sign. She wasn’t looking for shampoo, she got that pregnancy test.
I can’t imagine how long she’s been agonizing over this. How long she’s been carrying this secret. “Hey,” I bring the truck to a halt and look over at her, but she won’t meet my eyes. “Listen, are you sure you want to go home and deal with Marcus right now? I can go with you and
we can tell him together if you think that will soften the blow. Maybe he and I can bury the hatchet.” I slide my hand over her shoulder and she shakes her head silently.
“No, he’s not even home right now. He’s got a men’s group at St. Peter’s tonight so I know he’s at the church getting ready. I’m good, Connor,” she finally meets my eyes. Her bottom lids are rimmed red from her worry and tears. I want to pull her into me, to run my hand over her hair and whisper promises about how I’m going to make this all okay, but I know she needs some space.
“I just want some time alone to think, that’s all,” her voice is flat as she twists her hands together. “Please, just let me figure out how to talk to Marcus. I’m not shutting you out or shutting us down, but I just need to get my head on straight first.” Charlotte searches my face.
“Of course.” What else can I say? What else can I do? I can’t believe I’m the same man who led a SEAL team into dangerous firefights. It’s painful to sit back and feebly watch my life take shape without having any say in the outcome. Frustration roils in my gut as I watch Charlotte slip out of my truck and slam the door shut behind her without saying goodbye.
She settles behind the wheel of her car and my eyes narrow and I grit my teeth together as I make my way back out onto the road home.
I can’t believe I’ve found someone so perfect for me and now it all hangs in the balance because of an old, stupid grudge. I don’t even know if I’m going to be a part of my baby’s life, all because of something that happened on our fucking prom night fourteen years ago?
No. I’m done letting Marcus and his ridiculous temper control Charlotte and I. This stops now.
My tires squeal in protest as I pull a fast, hard U-turn and speed toward town, leaving a trail of dust behind me.
It’s time Marcus and I hash this thing out. Once and for all. He might have control over Charlotte, but he isn’t pulling the strings in my life.
20|Connor
My brakes creak loudly as I throw the truck in park and jump out, marching toward the large wooden door of the church. My fists are balled up and my jaw is clamped down as I barge through the entrance and watch Marcus look up from the front lectern, startled.
“What on earth are you doing here?” His shoulders tense up and his lips disappear into a slit across his face.
“You and I need to have a chat, Marcus,” I don’t break my stride, closing the floor between us quickly.
“I have nothing to say to you. Get out of my church, Connor,” he holds up his hand like a crossing guard and I can see the thin, pink scar from when we made our blood brother pact across his palm.
A pact that he destroyed the very first time we had a problem. Just like he’s going to destroy my life now, if I let him.
I won’t.
“I’m pretty sure this is God’s church, not yours,” I answer. “And don’t worry, this won’t take long,” I stand my ground, squaring off my shoulders and stare him in the eyes.
“I have things to do, I don’t have time for this,” he shuffles his papers on the podium and acts like a drill sergeant that just declared I was dismissed. Except I’m not about to turn on my heel and rush out of here just because Marcus decided I’m not worthy of his time. If you ask me, he’s been given too much power over the years. Taking on the role of a parent for his sister and then becoming a pastor of the church seems to have gone to his head.
“I don’t care if you have time, you’re gonna make some because I’m not walking out of here until you listen to what I have to say,” I snarl.
Marcus blows out his ebony cheeks as he hisses air through his front teeth like a leaky balloon. I know that noise. I’ve heard it before, I’ll probably hear it again. It’s the sound of him trying to stay calm, probably counting to ten in his head. It never works, it didn’t make him calmer when he was a five-year-old and I doubt it will work now. I’m surprised he still even tries.
“What do you want?” He stresses each word like a sentence.
“Listen, I know you and I don’t see eye-to-eye anymore,” I start.
“Pfft, that’s an understatement,” he laughs dryly.
“Yeah, well, I think it’s about time you got over it bud. It’s been fourteen years since your girlfriend jumped me, while I was passed out, I might add.” I can see the crimson of anger splash over the back of his neck, mixed with his dark skin it makes an almost purple hue. I remember that shade all too well, the color of pure rage.
“Oh, you think so, huh?” Now it’s Marcus who clenches his fist, crinkling up his papers in his hand without realizing it.
“Yes, I do. Look, what happened, happened. It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t really my fault. It has nothing to do with Charlotte and me now. I’m not going to let you keep me from our baby just because you can’t show a little bit of the forgiveness you preach about to someone you once called a brother.”
“Connor, I will never forgive you. You know why? You don’t even have one shred of remorse in your soul, do you? You don’t even admit the part you played in any of that night…” Marcus frowns and his lips corkscrew downward as he opens his palm and drops the crumpled papers back down. “Wait, did you say baby?” His eyes grow wide as he looks at me.
“I, uh, did I?” I know I shouldn’t say dammit in church. Is it bad to think it?
“You got my little sister pregnant?” The full realization floods over him and he races down the steps and checks my shoulder as he races past me to the exit.
I drag my fingers through my hair and restrain myself from swearing as I hear the door behind me slam shut. Quickly, I follow Marcus outside, “Where are you going? Get back here and talk to me about this like a man!” I call out but he’s already in his car. I’m not going to let him blow me off that easily. I jump back in my truck and follow his car out of the parking lot, cursing under my breath as we drive the familiar streets back to his house.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I yell as Marcus sails through a yellow light and I have no choice but to stop on the red that follows.
He’s going to confront Charlotte. I fucked this up pretty good. I need to stop him before he destroys any chance I have of ever seeing her again.
21|Charlotte
Ding!
The microwave announces that my TV dinner is ready. The only thing that surpasses my complete and utter exhaustion right now is my hunger. I manage to push myself up from the couch and walk over to the smell of cheap spaghetti. Flinging open the door, I look down at the mush being passed off as an Italian specialty and shrug. It might not look like much, but my growling stomach doesn’t care.
I lift the cardboard plate from the microwave and steam vents from the peeled back film, curling up around my fingers like a snake. The sting of the heat sinks into my flesh like fangs and I drop the pasta on the counter, grabbing my hand tight.
“Fuck!”
Why is it when you have a bad day, everything that can go wrong just jumps on the bandwagon? It’s never like one thing is shitty but the rest of the day is sunshine and rainbows. Instead, you get a flat tire and then it starts to rain and you just had your hair blown out and someone races past you and splashes you with mud.
It’s like karma or whatever likes to kick a girl when she’s down.
Vroom!
I spin around as some lunatic is burning rubber down our sleepy subdivision street like a drag racer. I rush over to the living room window and my jaw drops as I watch my brother jump the curb in front of our house and bring his car to a screeching halt, parked sideways across the driveway like someone on a bender.
I rush out the front door and stare in disbelief as Marcus leaps from the car and starts yelling.
“I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?” He roars.
“What?” I look around the yard, what is he doing right now?
“Don’t you ‘what’ me! I told you to stay away from Connor and you didn’t listen. You let him use you up just like every other girl he’s ever been with. And now
what are you going to do? You got pregnant and ruined your life. You think he’s gonna take care of that baby? This is what happens when you go out and act like a harlot! There are consequences!” He booms.
Connor told him? I try to ignore the twitching blinds in my neighbor’s windows as Marcus makes another scene for them to soak in. That’s right folks, grab your popcorn!
“Marcus, shut up,” I plead. “Let’s talk about this inside,” I point to the house, but he’s too blind with rage to see.
“Don’t you tell me to shut up. Maybe if you would’ve shut your legs you wouldn’t be in this situation. I told you a leopard doesn’t change his spots, Lottie! Now what are you gonna do? Raise a kid on your own with your secretary pay? Cause I’m not helping you out of this one. You’re on your own,” he rants while Connor pulls his banged-up Dodge in behind my brother’s car and rushes out after him.
“Don’t you talk to her like that,” Connor races up to Marcus and pushes his scruffy jaw out as he goes chin-to-chin with him.
“Stay out of it, you’ve hurt this family enough Connor!” My brother shoves him with both hands.
Connor barely moves, he takes half a step back and comes forward swinging. “Who the fuck do you think you’re pushing around, bud?” He lands a haymaker on Marcus’ cheek and my brother throws his arms around Connor, wrestling him to the grass.
They roll around like a couple of boys, getting grass stains on their clothes and spewing hate at each other.
“You should have never come back! You just aren’t happy until you’ve ruined everyone’s lives, are you?” Marcus manages to get the upper hand, and punches Connor square on the chin.
Connor pushes his hips up high and flips my brother to the ground, spitting a mouthful of blood beside him. “You’re still the same boy, aren’t ya? Can’t use your words, only your fists. Well you didn’t win back then and you won’t now,” Connor cocks his arm back and I can see every muscle tense up tight.
“No! Please stop! Don’t do this,” I scream, tears welling up in my eyes. “Connor, get off him. Both of you, stop this!” I plead.
Riding Lil' Red Hard Page 19