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Page 4

by T. L Hodel


  He looked up, squinting against the bright sun. “Can I ask you a question?”

  I shrugged.

  “Does the reason you’re out here,” his face took on a more serious expression as he shifted his gaze to my belly, “Have anything to do with that?”

  Shifting in my seat, I quickly yanked my sweater down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Don’t worry,” his lips tipped in a frown, “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t hide it forever.”

  “No. You can’t. But you can fight them.”

  I stared back at him, not sure what to say. It wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility for Mason to tell people Parker was the father. The guy did announce to the world that I liked butt stuff. A claim that was so far from reality, it wasn’t even funny. There were only two guys I’d been with, and only one of those was by choice.

  “Don’t let the stuffy snobs that run this place win.”

  Easy for him to say.

  “Isn’t that kind of like fighting city hall?”

  Carrie Simone had fought against the gender biased uniforms. Organized a rally and everything. She didn’t go to this school anymore.

  “Maybe.” He pushed off the bleachers and brushed his hands on his jeans, “But someone had to fight them. Otherwise, women wouldn’t have the right to vote.”

  I watched him walk away, wondering why he’d bother to try and help. Shelby seemed to trust him, but as I learned recently, trust wasn’t necessarily a solid foundation to build things on. One action was all it took to snap that bond. If I couldn’t have faith in the one man I should, why should I trust anything Luke Lannister said?

  Shaking away the memories threatening to surface, I stood up. It was ridiculous to think anyone would help me. Let alone Mr. Lannister. He worked at Ashworth. No one was going to stick up for me. It was better if I was on my own, and much safer for everyone involved.

  I trudged my way down the bleachers, dreading the looks I’d get once I was inside. Since the day I took that test, I’d been avoiding facing the reality of my situation. It was easier to pretend everything was normal. The illusion started to shatter when Logan announced to the entire room I was pregnant.

  There was a baby growing inside me! An actual living, breathing, human being that would rely on me for everything. It was too much. How was a seventeen year old supposed to handle that? There were options, that I knew. I couldn’t picture myself ‘getting rid of it’ or handing my child over to strangers.

  If it was his, would I be able to move past that horrific night? Could I love a child that was conceived in such a violent way? Or would I see his face every time I looked in my baby’s eyes? I could find out easily enough. One trip to the doctors, and I’d know the conception date. My night with Parker, and the assault, were weeks apart. Problem was, I was utterly terrified I wouldn’t get the result I wanted.

  I rounded the corner to the back of the bleachers and stopped dead in my tracks. A pair of sparkling green eyes were glaring down at me.

  “Hey Lana banana. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Get out of my way, Mason.” So not in the mood for this, I attempted to shoulder past him. But he grabbed my arm and yanked me into the dark space under the metal benches.

  Dark and alone, with a man…

  My pulse started to pick up, as a wave of panic threatened to wrack my body.

  “We need to talk,” Micha said, stepping out of the shadows to join us.

  Not again! Get away! Get away now!

  I yanked my arm out of Mason’s grip and took a step back. It gave me some relief to have his hands off me, but that didn’t mean I was going to take my eyes off either one. I’d learned that lesson.

  “We have nothing to talk about,” I snarled in Micha’s direction.

  Mason’s gaze narrowed in on me. “We’re just here to give you a friendly warning.”

  Yeah, sure. Friendly, my ass!

  “Give me your warning then,” I crossed my arms, using the only thing I had as a shield, “So I can leave.”

  Micha stepped forward. “You’re going to talk to Parker by the end of tomorrow.”

  “Am I now?” Micha and his goon squad couldn’t make me do shit. At least, that’s what I told myself, while my pulse thundered in my ears.

  “Do you know what you do in rehab?”

  My heart dropped when Mason smiled.

  “You think.” The rage burning in his green eyes reminded me of something.

  Big doe like eyes filled with malice and lust.

  “Fuck, you feel good.”

  “So you see, I’ve had a lot of time to think about ways to destroy your friend.”

  Mason’s threat pulled me back, making my fists ball. “You leave Harper alone!”

  “No.” He cocked his head and smirked, “But if you stop ignoring Parker, I won’t concentrate all my efforts on her.”

  “If you do anything…”

  “You can count on me doing something.” He took a step forward, causing me to take one back.

  Leave Lana, leave now. It’s happening again.

  “How bad it is, all depends on you.”

  “You have other things to worry about,” Micha added.

  I turned my glare on him and snarled, “Such as?”

  “The DNA of the baby you’re carrying.”

  I stopped. That was exactly what I was worried about.

  Dim moonlight…

  Sweaty, heavy grunts…

  “I-I’m not afraid of Parker.”

  “But you should be afraid of big brother.”

  And just like that, my heart went from thundering in my chest, to stopping altogether. Anyone who wasn’t afraid of Preston Whitley was just plain stupid. Thinking about that cold, dead stare was enough to make my blood run cold.

  “What do you think he’s more likely to do? Play happy little match maker and help you two patch things up?” Micha stepped into a beam of sunlight streaming through the bleachers above, and smirked. “Or wait until he can cut that baby out of you and toss your body off a cliff?”

  I licked my lips and forced the lump of nervousness down my throat. What would the master of death do if he found out? What would happen to me? My eyes snapped up to Micha as I sucked in a shocked breath.

  What would happen to him?

  He was so drunk that night, he didn’t remember doing it. It would kill him if he did, not to mention what the Knights would do to him. Which was precisely why I hadn’t talked to Parker. If this baby wasn’t his… Let’s just say, I had good reason to believe the rumors I heard.

  “Parker is the only thing standing between you and death. You really want to give up that lifeline?”

  Staring back at Micha Kessler’s dark eyes, I could feel the inevitable march of Death, riding in on his pale horse. If this got out, there was only one conclusion. None of which were good for Sean.

  Chapter 4

  Parker

  Lana didn’t show up for lunch, so Sean sent the team out to find her. He wasn’t taking the rumors well. I suppose I wouldn’t either, if the supposed pregnant girl was Ava. In fact, I’d probably string the motherfucker up. That wasn’t something I had to worry about with my sister, Ryker took that ability away from her. If I could string him up, I would. Lana wasn’t Sean’s sister, but she may as well be. Honestly, I was kind of jealous of the fucker. He got to take her to daddy-daughter dances, and the spring luncheon, when we were in middle school.

  Normally when he started barking orders, I’d have told him to go fuck himself. Just because I was on the team, didn’t mean I was his lackey. Besides, Harper made her own bed. Not my fault her brother had a problem with her lying in it. Since this was Lana, and I was done with this avoiding me shit, I was more than happy to play along.

  And then I found her.

  Sitting on the bleachers, talking to the new assistant coach. I watched him smile up at her with a fucking twinkle in his eye, and had to hold mysel
f back. What the fuck was he doing flirting with a student anyways? Letting her bright hazel eyes sparkle back at him. Fucking prick. I stood there, watching them, feeling the red bleed into my vision. Until all I could see were thick red drops falling from my fingers as I held the bastard’s still beating heart in my hand. It was so vivid, I could smell a coppery tint in the air.

  Wouldn’t be the first time I took care of some asshole. Everyone around here thought Mark Stevens died in an electrical fire. It was one of those tragic accidents that called for a candlelight vigil. If he hadn’t made the wrong person cry, then he might’ve spent another birthday with his family. Instead, they had flowers delivered to his grave. I warned him to stay away from Lana. Not my fault he didn’t listen. Right now though, there was another corpse I wanted to smile over.

  My hands fisted, and I tried to push the image down as he walked away. The prick actually grinned and winked at me. As if he was saying, ‘she’ll talk to me, asshole.’ I might’ve gone off to plot Shelby’s new coach’s demise, if something else hadn’t caught my attention. Mainly, what the fuck Micha and Mason were up to. They pulled Lana under the bleachers, and a few minutes later, she darted back into the school like the devil himself was chasing her.

  Fucking Kesslers.

  I leaned against the flagpole. One word to Logan about Shelby’s stretching session should take care of the coach problem. Micha and Mason, however…

  My gaze narrowed on the two Kesslers walking my way. The second Mase saw me, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk. Prick. Micha, on the other hand, returned my glare. Mase and Logan, I just wanted to slap, but Micha I respected more than I did anyone else. He didn’t take shit from anyone, including my brother. Considering what Preston called extracurricular activities, that took balls. Even I was afraid of my brother. The only thing on this planet that shouldn’t be was Timothy. His damn turtle.

  “Hey buddy,” Mase sang, “Decided to get some fresh air?”

  I crossed my arms and let out a huff. “What did you two do?”

  “Reminded your girl about the repercussions of her choices,” Micha grumbled.

  Of course he did. Micha was all about consequences and repercussions. That wasn’t what pissed me off.

  “This is my situation to handle.”

  Micha snorted as he walked past me. He didn’t have to say anything, I could hear the words swimming through his mind. ‘You’re doing a great job so far.’ Wouldn’t be the first time one of them said something like that. In all honesty, they’d be right. We all grew up in the Order, and none of them were afraid to get their hands dirty. I wasn’t either, but they wouldn’t know that, since I was never called in on the harder jobs.

  “Do me a favor, Micha,” I spun around and marched after our illustrious leader, “Stay the fuck out of my business.”

  “Why?” his cold glare rolled over his shoulder, “You gonna suddenly sac up?”

  I threw my finger up in his face, “You don’t know shit about me.”

  And he didn’t. None of them did. I was only one thing to the people in this town. Ashen Springs‘ golden boy. Whatever. Worked for me. No one suspected the prized pig.

  “Why the fuck should I expect you to handle shit now?”

  Most guys would back away from a guy my size. Not Micha. He grew up with Mase, and Mase liked to punch fuckers out for fun. Prick hit me a couple times, and when Mase hit you, you fucking knew it.

  “Tell me, Parker,” Micha stepped right up and got in my face, “Where the fuck were you, when shit was going down?”

  Leader or not, I wasn’t about to back down. I pushed back the urge to tear his throat out and followed Micha’s lead. Pressing my puffed out chest against his. “You never fucking asked me.”

  “That’s the point,” he shook his head and walked away. “I shouldn’t have to.”

  I stood there with my mouth open. Was that the reason I was never called in for backup? Why the hell hadn’t this occurred to me sooner? Unlike my brother, I tried to fit in with the innocent citizens of Ashen Springs. The best way to do that was to pretend I was normal, even though I knew I wasn’t. I wasn’t as far gone as my brother, but I wasn’t like everyone else either.

  That’s what I did for most of my life. Hid the darker parts of myself behind a wave, or a smile. The simple things people did that I had to constantly remind myself to mimic. Like pretending to care, when I couldn’t give two fucks. It was exhausting, and something I thought I had to do. But maybe I didn’t? Did my friends really think I couldn’t handle my own shit?

  “No offence, buddy,” Mase threw his arm over my shoulder, “But you’ve been letting her ignore you for weeks.”

  Shit. He was right. I’d been letting Lana run all over me. None of them would allow that crap to happen. Logan got right in Shelby’s face when she tried to blow him off, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Riley murdered Micha in his sleep. That didn’t deter him. He laid down in that bed with her every night. Even Mase, who fucking hated Harper, was constantly reminding her he was there. Don’t get me wrong, she deserved everything he did, but I kind of agreed with Logan. Mase should just get it over with and hate fuck the bitch.

  “That shit stops now,” I growled, and stormed across the field.

  I’d be damned if I was going to be another Mason Kessler. Denying myself the girl I desperately wanted. There were benefits to being in the Order. This was one of them. If I wanted Lana, she was mine, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing anybody could do about it.

  Mase skipped up behind me with a giddy smile on his face. “What do you have in mind?”

  My lips curled in a crooked smirk. I could play dirty too.

  My father’s car was parked outside when I pulled up to the house. Unlike my friends’ parents, mine preferred to be involved in our upbringing. I grew up with nannies, but my mother was the one to tuck me in at night, and my father taught me how to ride a bike. Maybe it was because of my brother?

  Safety wasn’t a factor associated with Preston. The only other one of my friends that had parental involvement to the same degree were Micha and Mase. Lou was so embedded in their lives, it bordered on the obsessive.

  I walked into the house, hung my keys on the hook by the door, and headed for the parlor, where I knew my father would be. Another difference between my friends and I was the place I called home. Yes, we lived in a gated community where I could look outside and see my neighbors. It wasn’t that we couldn’t afford the grand estates that everyone else had. This was my father’s choice. He believed extravagance rotted the brain.

  Mike Brady didn’t have shit on my dad. Dean Whitley had a saying for everything. If I fell off my bike, he’d tell me to get back on and keep trying. Never let the world defeat me. When Preston killed my dog, it was the everything has a season speech. And when I lost my first game, he said I could never understand the value of winning, if I’d never lost. I skipped down the steps to the parlor, wondering what he’d say about this situation.

  I found him sitting in one of the wingback chairs, reading today’s newspaper. He looked up long enough to nod at me and set his glass of brandy down on the table beside him.

  “How was school, son?”

  Rage still boiled through my veins. All I could think about was how my hands would look coated in Luke Lannister’s blood. Logically, I knew he was probably just talking to Lana. That’s what teachers did. They found the lonely student and tried to encourage them to participate. What I couldn’t shake was the way his eyes sparkled up at her. I knew that look. Fuck sakes, Logan perfected that look. Sly prick had it so perfected that chicks didn’t even know he was flirting with them until it was too late.

  “School was fine,” I muttered, while sauntering over to the bar to down a shot of scotch. It wasn’t Luke Lannister’s blood, but it might dull my craving for it.

  “Buck up, son, everyone has bad games.”

  I stopped and glanced back at my father, bothered by the fact that he could tell something was wrong.
Huh? Bringing the shot glass up to my lips, I tipped my head back and let the alcohol burn a path down my throat. Lana’s little games were making me slip. I didn’t slip. Even fucking Lou, the esteemed psychologist, thought I was a regular chip off the old block. Now that shit took talent.

  “You need to just move on.” My father looked up from his newspaper and raised his fist in that ‘go get ‘em’ way he did. “That’s what makes a man.”

  I leaned against the bar and forced my tense muscles to relax. “That’s what makes a man, is it?”

  “That’s right.” He nodded and picked up the glass beside him. “It’ll only get you down if you let it. Just pull up your pants and move forward.”

  Yeah, I’d heard that one before too. Though it was oddly fitting for this situation.

  “I got someone pregnant.”

  Brandy went flying everywhere as my father hunched over in a coughing fit.

  “Kinda too late to pull up my pants now, Dad.”

  After managing to catch his breath, my father sprang out of the chair and began pacing around the room. I rested my elbow on the bar behind me and patiently waited for him to stop muttering under his breath. This was pretty much the same thing he did when Preston knocked someone up two years ago. Right down to the curses he was grumbling. That girl was given a choice; get rid of it, or free fall off the bluffs. The second Lana let me touch her, she lost all freedom to choose.

  “Okay,” he finally stopped pacing and looked at me. “We can take care of this.”

  “I don’t want to take care of it.”

  There was the shock again. “You’re saying you want to keep it.”

  “Yes.”

  He cocked a brow at me. “And the girl?”

  “Her too,” I nodded.

  The strange thing was how quickly the unease on his face morphed into a smile. That, I did not expect.

 

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