Colton rolls his eyes, but can’t help grinning back at me, still thinking it’s cute when his world manages to surprise me. “Yeah, you’ve met Spencer’s dad. He's all about appearances and has expensive tastes. This place took him nearly four years to build. Just wait till you see inside.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head. “Spencer will have the lights down, so it won’t be as good as if you were looking during the day, but every single inch of the place has been planned out. I wouldn’t even be able to describe it. You just have to see it for yourself. I’ll bring you back tomorrow, and you can have a proper look at it.”
Excitement bubbles through me. I'd like nothing more, I don’t know why though. I should be secretly hating the place. After all, Spencer’s dad is a bit of an arrogant dickwad.
We finally reach the top of the driveway, and I have to be careful not to hit any of the guests that are all pouring in. There must be hundreds of people littering the property, some already drunk and dancing to music that isn’t there, while others scramble up the massive staircase, wanting to get to the real party inside.
I bring the car to a stop and am instantly greeted by a valet driver. I grin to myself as I open the suicide doors. I could definitely get used to this kind of treatment, though to be honest, I think I’d get annoyed with it after a while. I don’t like the idea of people doing things for me, especially when I’m more than capable myself. To some people, it’s a benefit and something to take advantage of, but to me, it just makes me feel lazy.
Colton meets me around the front of his car and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. As we start walking toward Spencer’s house, Colton can’t resist glancing back over his shoulder and watching as the driver takes off with his car, driving in the opposite direction of the rest of the valet drivers.
My eyes bug out of my head and I tug on Colton’s arm just in case he hasn’t quite figured it out yet. “He’s stealing your car.”
Colton laughs. “He’s not stealing it,” he says, finding way too much amusement in my confusion. “There's a certain … hierarchy around here, and some people have priority over others and …”
“And let me guess,” I say, getting way too familiar with this place. “Your car gets special undercover parking where it’ll probably get a spit shine during its stay, it’s own personal butler, and a complimentary tire rotation?”
A guilty expression crosses his face, but he can’t help but look smug about it. “There’s no fucking butler or tire rotations going on, but yes, the Veneno will be parked in the Vanderbilt’s private showroom.
“And the spit shine?” I ask as we reach the stairs.
He rolls his eyes, the smugness returning once again. “I don’t know about the spit shine, but I’m not going to lie, I have walked out of a few of these parties with a polish, but they’re not usually very good. At most, it’s a rushed job. A party this big though, I doubt it. The valets would be pretty busy all night.”
I shake my head, choosing not to comment on that as we walk up the stairs. The closer we get to the door, the louder the party inside becomes. Excitement bubbles through me. I haven’t been to a great party where I can relax and have a good time in ages. I can’t drink tonight since I’m knocked up with a Devil spawn, but I can tell it’s still going to be a great night. I can feel it in my bones.
The second we walk through the door, Milo barges into me, grabbing me by the shoulders and spinning me away from Colton, who just keeps walking, knowing there’s no point in trying to wait for me now that I’m in Milo’s clutches.
“Where the hell have you been, skank? The party started ages ago. I’ve been waiting to take shots off your perky ass.”
I laugh, looping my arm through his. “Sorry,” I tell him. “I got distracted and then couldn’t figure out what to wear.”
He gives me a blank expression. “Bitch, you have all of three outfits. How hard could it be to choose something?”
“I have more than three outfits,” I grumble, trying to change the topic to avoid telling him that the reason I couldn’t figure out what to wear was that everything I own is starting to get a little tight.
“Bitch, please. I’m going to take you on a shopping spree and fill your closet with everything. I can’t wait. I've been planning it since the day you got here, but your skank ass is always too busy trying to avoid gang wars and getting jumped.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “That always tends to slow things down a bit.”
Milo gets distracted and drags me through the bodies before finally bringing me to a stop in front of all our friends. Drix squeals and throws herself at me, clearly already drunk, while Jess sips on her cocktail through a long straw with a dreamy look in her eyes, appearing to not even know where she is.
Colton stands with Spencer and Charlie talking shit, and after peeling Drix off me, I barge my way into their circle and jump at Spencer. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY,” I yell, instantly stumbling over the many pairs of feet.
Spencer catches me with ease and sets me back on my feet, while Colton watches me with wide, horrified eyes, probably only two seconds away from marching my ass out of here and giving me the big speech on what’s safe during pregnancy. But seriously, unless he’s the one who has to carry it, then he doesn’t exactly get a say.
Spencer thanks me and says something else, but I can’t make out his words over the sound of the music blasting through the room. There are so many bodies that just one person passing through causes a chain reaction of people shuffling around, and for the first time in a long time, it makes me miss my home in Breakers Flats. Whenever we partied back home, it was always insane like this. We never had a mansion to do it in or the expensive alcohol, but it was still fun.
Milo barges into our group with a tray of shots, and everyone grabs one. I curl my fingers around the glass and toss it right over my shoulder. I'm not really ready to spill the beans on my pregnancy yet, so I make a big show of the alcohol burning down my throat.
Everyone else laughs and instantly dives in for a second shot, and to be honest, the majority of them are already drunk enough that they don’t even notice when I don’t go for another. After all, this is the good stuff. If I can avoid wasting it, then I will.
They all take their shot, and as Colton steps in behind me and starts swaying me to the music, I lean back against him, not realizing just how badly I needed this.
The night flies by and despite my feet aching and the yawns that keep tearing through me, I refuse to go home. Milo stumbles into me, taking my shoulders and pulling me away from Colton. “Tonight is the best freaking night like … ever,” he cheers, his voice somehow traveling over the music.
“I know,” I laugh, trying to catch myself when Drix bumps me with her ass, trying to be sexy for Charlie.
Milo glances back over his shoulder, smiling as he watches Spencer. “It could be better, though.”
“Huh?” I grunt, but it’s too late, he pulls away from me and crosses over to Spencer before whispering in his ear. Spencer instantly pulls back and looks at him as though he’s lost his mind, and when Milo nods eagerly, Spencer shrugs and yells out. “HELL YEAH! LET’S DO THIS.”
My brows furrow as I watch the two of them walk over to a table and start climbing up onto it. They hover over the party, and Spencer grabs Milo’s elbow, keeping him steady on the table.
Partiers begin noticing them, and as the cheering starts, more and more eyes turn their way. The music is turned down just enough that when Spencer puts both of his hands in the air and calls out, everyone can hear him perfectly. “I’M SICK OF HIDING. FUCK THE HATERS AND FUCK THE STATUS QUO,” he calls over the party, slipping his hand down until it’s clutched into Milo’s. “MY NAME IS SPENCER VANDERBILT, I’M GAY AND I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH THIS INCREDIBLE MAN.”
My mouth drops before a wide grin spreads across my face. The whole party cheers for them, and as I watch in disbelief, Spencer grabs Milo’s face and kisses him deeply. The two of them ru
n full bolt out of the closet, finally claiming who they are with pride.
When they finally break apart from one another, the guests are chanting their names and showing their acceptance. The smiles on both of their faces is exactly what I never knew I needed.
The music is turned right back up, and within seconds, Milo holds out his arms, turns around, and drops down into the bodies to crowd surf. When he runs out of space, they drop his ass to the hard ground as he snorts with laughter.
All I can do is shake my head as I watch in astonishment, never being so proud of anyone in my whole life.
At this moment, I realize that I have everything I could ever need right here. Yet for some reason, it all feels so far away, like I’m grasping onto it and struggling to keep hold. It could all be torn away from me so quickly, and I’m terrified of losing it. I’ve gained so much since coming to Bellevue Springs, and if I was to lose all of this, it might just break me more than Nic and the boys ever could.
Chapter 31
Traffic flies past me as I sit on the side of the road, unable to take my eyes off the little envelope that seems to have been staring right back at me since the second it landed in my hands. How is it possible? It’s just a piece of paper, yet if I concentrate enough, I think I might be able to feel a pulse and hear its little whisper telling me my worst nightmare is about to come true.
The doctor called me first thing this morning to tell me that the results had come in. Within seconds, I was in the Audi racing to get to him despite only getting home from Spencer’s party less than three hours ago. Yet now that I have the results here in my hands, I can’t possibly avoid it more.
I hate this.
This moment is going to define everything that happens from here on out. This moment defines my future. This stupid envelope holds more power than it should ever be allowed to hold. It’s insane.
I should just tear it open and get it over with, though I’m also certain that I won't understand any of the medical terms that are in the report. The doctor offered to go through it with me, and for a brief second, I was about to say yes. Then I realized that if it is Jude’s baby, that my reaction is something that should definitely happen in private.
God, I’d do anything for this to be Colton’s baby, to know that it was his DNA growing inside of me. Both of our lives would be so much easier. The thought of still having something of Jude living within me … no. I just can’t.
I take a shaky breath and flip the envelope over before sliding my finger under the seals and slowly ripping it open. Nausea sets in hard, and I throw the envelope to the passenger seat as I scramble for something to throw up in.
I hurl into the empty slurpee container Milo had left in here during the week, and while I was hating on him for leaving a mess behind, I can’t fault him for it now.
I get myself cleaned up with the baby wipes Mom insisted that I start carrying around for these ‘just in case moments,’ and with a cup full of vomit and a disgusted scowl on my face, I get back to learning my fate.
Please be Colton’s. Please be Colton’s. Please be Colton’s.
I wonder if I chant the whole way through and promise my soul to the devil that I could magically manifest what I want to see. It’s a long shot, like a really, really long shot, but it’s definitely worth a try.
My hands begin to shake as I grab the envelope off the passenger’s seat and let out a slow, calming breath. Why did I choose to be alone right now? Maybe it would have been better to just let the doctor deliver the news, that way he could have just ripped it off like a bandaid, and I wouldn’t be sitting here making myself sick with the anxiety.
My fingers slip into the envelope and I feel the papers inside, the ones that are either going to tell me the best news I’ve ever heard or have me wishing for a time machine to send me back to kill Jude before he ever got the chance to touch me.
The papers get stuck on the edge of the envelope, and I accidentally tear the corner off. But my anxiety is riding too high to bother worrying about it. I just hope it’s not the little bit of paper with the actual result on it. Now that would suck.
My fingers can hardly move as I turn the papers over and begin unfolding it. There must be at least ten pages here, and I have a good feeling that I won't understand any of it.
Remembering that I’m supposed to have balls made out of steel, I pull my shit together and realize that the sooner I get this over with, the better.
My gaze drops down to the pages, and I find my name and information at the top. There’s a whole lot of stuff, explaining what the test was for and how to read the attached graphs.
I scan over it all, searching for the one thing I need.
I flip through the pages. There are graphs, charts, everything, but nothing that actually says what I need to see.
I continue flipping the pages until finally, the very last page gives me a report on everything that I just skipped through. There are a whole bunch of numbers that I don’t understand. One column is labeled ‘CHILD’ the other ‘ALLEGED FATHER’ and at the very bottom of the numbers are the results, followed by a detailed explanation.
I begin scanning, my eyes traveling over the words faster than I’ve ever read before.
Combined paternity results: 0
Probability of Paternity: 0%
The alleged father is excluded as the biological father. Based on test results obtained by analysis of DNA collected, the probability of paternity is 0%
No. no, no, no, no.
This can’t be happening. Colton isn’t the father.
I feel like I’m trapped inside a bad ‘Maury Povich’ episode.
I scan over the results again and again as the tears begin welling in my eyes. They drop furiously down my face, splashing against the papers and smudging the results. It takes three seconds before the painful sobs begin tearing up my throat, and my world starts closing in on me.
Jude is the father.
I have his DNA living inside of me. My child will have his face, his genes, his eyes. That slight bit of hope I’d gotten, telling me that it could have been Colton’s was dangerous because now it only hurts that much more.
I can’t… I can’t do this. How am I supposed to raise a child who came from rape?
Brutal visions of that night slam back into my mind and start overwhelming me, making it difficult to breathe. I need air. I need … I need out. I need this to be over.
I push the car door wide and struggle to breathe as the fresh air flows through the car. Is this a panic attack? I’ve never had one before, but it sure makes sense if it is. I drop my head to the steering wheel and take slow, deep breaths, willing myself to calm down.
I’ll go home, break the news to Colton, and then we can make a plan. I’ll start going through my options and maybe look into the whole adoption thing a little more. Jaren insists that it was the best decision he ever made. Could it be the same for me?
Fuck. This is too mu—
A flutter in my lower abdomen has every thought dissolving from my mind. What the fuck was that? My eyes drop to my stomach, along with my hands. I’ve experienced butterflies in my tummy before and it sure as hell wasn’t that. Was it the baby? Was that what it feels like when it moves? Did I just feel my child?
The tears stream faster down my face, dropping onto my hands that rest against my hardening stomach.
My child.
Am I seriously considering giving up a piece of me? This is too overwhelming. I’ve never felt so lost and confused in my life. Am I a bad person for wanting to give up my baby? Does that make me a monster? What if I regret it in years to come. What if the kid comes looking for me, demanding answers. What am I supposed to say then?
I swallow back the lump in my throat, maniacally wiping at the tears that just keep coming back. How am I going to break this to Colton? Every day, I see the hope growing in his eyes. I see the way he’s planning for our future, planning on being this child’s father, but I can’t do that to him. I can’t d
ump this child on him knowing it’s not his.
Fuck.
I hate this. I fucking hate this so bad. It hurts.
My chest tightens, and I force myself to keep breathing despite wishing I could just end it all. I’m too young for this, too inexperienced to be making these kinds of decisions. I just need someone to come and tell me what to do, someone to make it all right again.
I could always contact Jude’s parents and offer it up to them, but … no. That doesn’t seem right, that seems like the worst possible option. They’re horrid people and wouldn’t give this baby a good life, but what better could I do?
Shit. Someone, please make it stop.
Thirty minutes quickly turns into an hour, and when my phone starts going nuts on the passenger seat, I realize that I can't waste any more time. I have to get home and deal with it. I just need to be in Colton’s arms, where he can tell me that it’s all going to be okay.
I fold up the tear-drenched papers and lean over to the passenger side before shoving them into my bag. As I straighten up and reach out of the car, ready to close the door, a black bag is violently shoved down over my face.
I scream out, grabbing the black material and desperately trying to pull it off. I feel hands at my body. My seatbelt is unbuckled, and then people are pulling at me. I fight and claw against the hands on my body, screaming for someone to come and help me as I hear the scuffle of feet on the pavement beside the open car door.
A hand covers my mouth between my face and the material, desperately trying to muffle my cries. I bite down, getting a mouthful of the material, and the hand pulls away. I take the opportunity to yank up the material, ready to run for my fucking life, but the hand reaches around my face, which is when I see it.
A fucking tattoo on the guy’s wrist of a black widow spider.
Nic. It’s not his exact tattoo. This is someone else, but it’s his doing.
The hands sure as hell don’t belong to him, I’d recognize them anywhere. He sent his fucking henchmen to come and grab me off the street. He’s a real big fucking man to do that. The boys are going to be pissed when thy hear about this.
Ride or Die: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 4) Page 29