by T. L Hodel
Half the time Nash was at home, he spent arguing with Sean, who felt his sister had the right to her own life. Which once again made me wonder if I was crazy? I was so sure Sean had attacked me, and was just too drunk to remember. I’d seen him so trashed he’d forgotten where he was. So, I mean, it was possible. But then again, maybe I was the one that was too drunk?
It felt like I was going in circles. So much so, that the world around me spun with my thoughts. Honestly, I was amazed I made it to breakfast without falling down. The second I saw Nan’s smiling face, something else flooded my thoughts. Coffins, dead bodies and funerals.
Preston wasn’t the kind of guy that made idle threats. When he said if I didn’t come to an amicable agreement with Parker, that the people I cared about would pay the price, he meant it. And by agreement, he meant whatever made Parker happy. Because I could guarantee Preston didn’t give a shit what I wanted. God forbid I wasn’t crazy, and this baby wasn’t Parker’s. We’d all be dead if that were the case. Either way, there was no good outcome here. Not that I could see. I was well and truly fucked.
“We have an appointment with the doctor at four, so I’ll pick you up after school.”
Shit. Well, here goes nothing.
“Actually, we have to rebook that.”
I carefully slid the summons across the table and gave Nan a nervous smile. Her brow tipped up in her ‘what are you up to’ look as she picked up the paper. I remained quiet and just watched her read it. The instant she came across the last name Whitley, I knew. Her face morphed from suspicion, to shock, and settled on the most unimpressed glare I’d ever seen on a human being.
Holding my breath, I waited for the inevitable lecture. Nan always told me not to hate people. That it was an ugly emotion not worthy of the time and energy. Except when it came to Lillianna Whitley. I could feel the ugly waves of contempt that filled the room. It weighed me down more than the possibility of my baby’s DNA. I could either make Nan mad, or Sean dead.
When Nan quietly got up and began digging through one of the drawers, I thought for sure I was getting the wooden spoon. I used to bury them in the backyard when I was a kid, hoping that would alleviate my punishments. It didn’t. Nan just went out and bought some more. Something that never occurred to my naive childhood mind. Apparently not much had changed over the years. I did sleep with Parker Whitley, after all. How smart was that choice?
Instead of a wooden spoon, Nan held up a business card. Which made my brows rise. Why wasn’t she yelling at me?
“Nan?” I called out as she picked up the phone.
She didn’t even look at me when she answered. Just said, “Yes, Lana?” while she typed in a number.
I think we were the only house in Ashen Springs to still have a landline. And not the cordless type, either, because that would be too much technology for Nan to handle. For at least a month after I finally convinced her to let me get a cellphone, she was suspicious of it. She’d whisper whenever I was around, in case someone could hear us. Despite how much I told her otherwise, she was convinced it worked like a walkie talkie. She still stared at it suspiciously.
“What are you doing, Nan?”
“Calling Mr. Craig.”
“The funeral home guy?” That really made my brows rise. “Why?”
“Because you, child, are going to land me in an early grave.”
Oh my God.
Nan always did have a flare for the dramatic. “Nan, it’s not the end of the world.”
“You tell me that when that witch does something horrible to my great-grandchild.”
“She won’t do anything. It's her grandchild too.” Hopefully.
Nan hung up the phone and rolled her eyes my way. “Do you think that matters to a woman like her?”
“Well, yeah. Family should matter to everyone.”
Preston’s words swam through my mind. ‘You’re supposed to care about family, that’s what I’m told.’ Okay, maybe not everyone. But surely a grandmother would care about her grandchild. Lillianna might be a real piece of work, but she seemed to love her kids. Even Preston, who, personally, I think she should’ve been terrified of.
“You’re overreacting, Nan.” I picked up my plate and took it to the sink. Wasn’t really hungry today. “Everything will be fine.”
I could feel her watching me as I plucked my keys off the hook by the back door.
“Where are you going?”
“Do you mind if I drive myself to school?” There was something I had to do, and I needed to do it alone. “We can meet at the Whitley’s after school.”
I didn’t wait for her answer before I left. We might not be able to take on the Whitley family in court–though I’m sure Nan would try–but I could at least find out if we needed to. Or if we should pack our bags and run. Though I doubted there was anywhere we could go that Preston wouldn’t find us. I could give us a head start. More importantly, give Sean a head start.
Ashen Springs free clinic was attached to the hospital in the middle of town. Early in the morning should’ve been a good time to go. Most people were just starting their days. Apparently, it was the same time half the town decided they needed to see a doctor. I had to wait for two hours before I was called back, and another hour to see a doctor. On the upside, I’d conquered two cities, a town, and started building my keep in the game on my phone.
After the quickest sonogram in history, where I wasn’t permitted to look at the image, I sat on the bed waiting for the doctor to come back and give me the results. Though the nurse smiled at me, she obviously wasn’t impressed by my age. Not sure what she had to be upset about. It wasn’t like she had to do her senior year of high school while raising a child.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait too long for the doctor to come back. I’d already talked to the school twice to explain my absence. If I didn’t show up for afternoon classes, they’d probably call Nan. The only bad thing about that would be explaining to Nan why I came to the free clinic, instead of waiting for an appointment.
A man in a white coat walked in and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Miss Crawford,” my heart picked up its pace as his eyes swung my way, “What brings you in today?”
How many times was I going to have to explain this to people? Didn’t they talk to each other? He had a file in his hand. Was it that hard to make a simple note?
“I took a home pregnancy test a couple weeks ago…”
“Yes,” he said, not letting me finish. “You are, in fact, pregnant. Thirteen weeks.”
I released a relieved breath as he flipped a page in my file. Thirteen weeks meant it was Parker’s. Thank God. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.
“Was there something you were worried about? Because the babies look healthy.”
“No, I’m not worried about anything.” Except my sanity.
“Alright.” He turned and walked away, but not before adding, “If you have to come back, please make an appointment. We’re very busy.”
I cocked a brow at his retreating form. Riley was right. The free clinic was staffed by dicks. I scooped up my bag and sauntered out.
While I was relieved that Parker was indeed my child’s father, I was overcome with guilt. All this time I’d been scared of Sean, thinking he did something horrible. I was so sure of it. I could feel his hands on me, and smell the tequila on his breath. Something must have happened, right? But maybe he didn’t do anything? This was the same guy that used to take Harper and I for ice cream. He even had tea parties with us. Would he really hurt me?
My thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice.
“Lana?”
I looked up into a pair of dark eyes. Mr. Kessler. Great. Just what I needed.
“Does Parker know you’re here?”
Seriously? He asked if Parker knew. As if I belonged to him or something. Can’t say I was too surprised. I mean, he was the almighty king of Ashen Springs. And no matter what Harper said, I had my suspicions that he ran The Order of Rav
ens and Wolves. I’d met some girl named Marnie at that Causegrove place Riley had told me to come to. What a night that was. Had an encounter with some racist pricks, met a fellow conspiracy theorist, and got pregnant.
If I could go back in time, Marnie was the one thing I wouldn’t change. At one point, we slipped off to chat, and let me just say, that girl knew her facts. If there was one person in this town that could take on the Order, it was her. Kind of wished she was here right now.
Louis folded his arms. “Is something wrong with the baby?”
I was a little shocked he knew about the baby. Then again, his knowledge only confirmed my suspicions about the society. Why else would he know? Other than their kids, the Whitleys and the Kesslers didn’t hang out together. Not that I’d seen, anyway.
“The baby’s fine.”
I might not be, though.
I cocked my hip and eyed Mr. Kessler’s black suit. He was a psychiatrist, and a well respected one at that. Still…
“Do you want to ask me something, Lana?”
No.
Yes.
Maybe.
“I don’t know.” Could I trust him? Of course I couldn’t trust him.
“Why don’t you come with me to my office,” he placed his hand on my back and steered me down the hall, “Where we can speak in private.”
What I should’ve done was leave. Thank him for his time and just go. Instead, I found myself following him. Apparently my fear of possible insanity outweighed my desire for self preservation. I needed to know if I had blamed a man I considered a brother for something truly horrific, when he had, in fact, done nothing.
Louis Kessler’s office was about what I expected, and not at all something one would find in a hospital. I could smell the luxury when I entered the room. Dark bookshelves, filled with more books than one person should have, lined the walls. On either side of the door sat a black leather wingback chair, that matched two in front of a desk made of the same wood as the bookshelves. Even the beige carpet in this room was luxurious. My feet sunk into the plush flooring like they would sand on a beach.
Mr. Kessler headed across the room and walked around the desk to the chair behind it. His seat didn’t look like the other four. It was black, but taller, with big arms and a cushy back. A throne fit for a king. I listened to the leather creak as he sat down, and ran my hand over the back of one of the chairs by the door.
What are you doing here, Lana?
“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”
What was on my mind. The question itself was comical. Was I raped? Did the man I trusted most in this world betray me in the worst possible way, or had I lost what was left of my sanity? All answers I wasn’t going to just freely give. And certainly not to Louis Kessler.
“What makes you think there’s something on my mind?”
“I’m a psychiatrist, my dear,” he chuckled and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “My job is the mind.”
Fair enough. Didn’t mean I was going to say anything to him. Even if I really wanted to.
I guessed he sensed my reluctance, because the next words he spoke were, “I am a professional, Lana. Whatever you say to me in confidence, will remain in confidence. I take my oath very seriously.”
The question was, which oath was he referring to? I might not have any proof that secret society existed, but I also didn’t have any proof that it didn’t either. Sure, there was doctor-patient confidentiality, but did that really matter to a man like Louis Kessler? Even if he did break his so called code, what was I going to do? Sue him? No one in this town went against the Kesslers.
“I should go.”
Mr. Kessler nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
Why wasn’t he trying to stop me? My eyes narrowed on his calm expression. Maybe he really did just want to help? Would it really hurt to ask?
Deciding that it couldn’t hurt if he didn’t know exactly what happened, or who it pertained to, I asked, “Is it possible for someone to think something happened, when it really didn’t?”
“I suppose,” he tipped his head in a questioning way. “It would depend on what, exactly, they think happened, and the circumstances under which said incident occurred.”
Touché, Mr. Kessler. But I was too smart to fall for that.
“There may have been alcohol involved.”
He nodded as if he understood. Given Mason’s recent stint in rehab, I suppose he did. “Alcohol can fog the mind.”
“But it was only one drink,” I pointed out.
“Was there anything else in the drink?”
I shook my head.
He retaliated with, “How sure are you?”
I was with Harper at her house, so, “One hundred percent.”
“I see.” He rested his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “How long ago was this?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Time can have an effect on your mind. For example, if you stubbed your toe last year, and then again today, which memory do you think would be clearer?”
That made sense, but this wasn’t last year. “It’s only been about a month.”
“So earlier in February, when Parker was at football camp.”
I froze. How did I forget about that? Sean wasn’t even in town that week. He couldn’t have done anything. So I was crazy. That was oddly relieving. The breath I let out felt like it’d been sitting in the back of my throat for over a month.
“Was it something I said?”
Mr. Kessler was now leaning back in his chair, looking like the cat who caught the canary. I really needed to get out of here.
“I should go.” I spun around and opened the door. “I’ve missed enough school.”
“Very well,” he said. “I’m here if you ever need to talk, my dear.”
Unease settled in my stomach as I hurried my way out of the hospital. For some reason, it felt like I’d just handed the enemy the keys to the kingdom.
Chapter 9
Parker
Lou called. I guess Lana felt the need to go to the free clinic. Why did she go to that skeezy cesspool of second rate doctors; who fucking knows? Lou sure as hell didn’t. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with her, or the baby. Physically, anyways. All he could tell me was that she was asking all these weird questions. Some shit about thinking something happened, when it didn’t. Which got me thinking.
Lana hadn’t been herself lately. No sparkly bracelets or pretty hair clips I could steal for my collection. She walked around the halls quiet as a mouse, which in itself was wrong. My Angel couldn’t shut her mouth if her life depended on it. And she was avoiding her friends. I could understand Riley, that girl had serious anger issues. I could even understand Shelby. But Harper?
There were three things I could count on every day. That Logan, Mason, or both, would say something that’d make me want to punch them. That some groupie floozy bitch would be trying to suck my dick–football chicks were the worst–and that if I saw Harper, Lana wouldn’t be far behind. I’d lost count how many times I’d smacked Mason because Lana got caught in his Harper vendetta crossfire. Because of this, he was probably the only one of my friends who knew how I actually felt about the girl. Until I knocked her up, that is.
We had a quiet understanding. I didn’t give him shit about fucking countless chicks to rid his mind of the one pussy he really wanted. And he didn’t say shit about Lana. It worked. We could both watch them walk around every day without the other saying shit about it. If he hadn’t had to do a stint in rehab, maybe he would’ve noticed my Angel’s odd behaviour. I should’ve fucking noticed it, but I was too busy trying to push her away from me. It was kind of fun, though. I liked seeing her nose scrunch up when she got all mad. It was cute as fuck. But my head wasn’t in the sand anymore, and something was up with my Angel.
“Something on your mind, baby brother?” Preston leaned back against the kitchen counter and rolled his eyes my way.
>
I fucking hated when he called me that. Prick knew it, too. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He popped a cigarette in his mouth and flipped open the zippo I gave him last year for his birthday. “What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t help you out?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He lifted his chin and exhaled a stream of smoke. “Let’s just say your girlfriend should be much more compliant.”
“What the fuck did you do?” If he hurt Lana…
“Relax,” he sighed, “I didn’t touch her. Just added to the nightmare she was having.”
What? Lana had a nightmare?
“Did she say anything?”
“Nothing useful,” Preston shook his head. “But if I were you, I’d talk to Callaghan. She got pretty jumpy when I mentioned his name.”
My mind went back to the other day, when Lana came rushing out of that room she’d been in with Sean. She wasn’t pissed off; she was afraid. I didn’t know why she’d be afraid of a guy who was her brother in every way but blood, but I intended to find out. The trick was beating the King of Kings to the information. He was already sniffing around, and Louis Kessler had his nose so far up everyone’s ass, he could taste what they’d had for breakfast.
He was even in my brother’s shit. A place that no one on this planet wanted to be. Preston didn’t take too kindly to people getting in his shit. I used to follow my brother around. Know what that got me? A broken arm, and a dead fucking dog. But somehow, the King of Kings eluded my brother’s repercussions. Despite knowing what Preston really was. Then again, my brother didn’t give a shit. I, however, did, and had so far avoided the illustrious Dr. Kessler diagnosis. As far as he was concerned, I was the good one. Fuck sakes, I once heard him tell Mase he should be more like me. If only he knew.
Which was precisely why I didn’t want him digging around. If he got too close, he might find out what was really going on in my head. While the look on his face when he realized he’d missed something so close would be priceless, I didn’t need him to shrink me. Besides, there was something to be said about fooling the keeper of the secrets. Who else could’ve pulled that shit off?