Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1)

by Belladona Cunning

  I take a deep breath. "So, you're p-p ... "

  "Pregnant," she finishes for me and then grins like she’s proud of herself.

  "P-Pregnant. You're pregnant."

  The room tilts once more. Shutting my eyes, I clasp the wall for support. Taking deep breaths like how Coach taught us in high school, I level out my breathing, so I'm not at the risk of hyperventilating. Calming myself down, I remove Cass from touching me and then point to the bed in a silent command to sit down.

  She does so without complaint and even goes so far as looking all snooty when she does it. I can't stand the ground she walks on.

  Leaning back against the wall, I allow my head to fall back and close my eyes. "Okay. So, you're pregnant, and what ...? "

  A nervous feeling in my stomach shoves back. There's something else here. There has to be. Her revelation caught me off guard for a minute, but now that I’m thinking semi-clearly, none of it adds up in my head. And I don’t claim to be a master on the female anatomy and reproduction, but none of this sounds right.

  When she doesn't immediately answer, I open my eyes to look down at her. She once more has a handful of the sheet, and she's holding it against her like it's her shield. From her slack face and sad eyes, I'm sure I've just hit a nerve of some sort.

  "What?" she asks, gaining a little snark in her tone. "You're the father, Hunter. It's your baby."

  I nod, even though I know right off the goddamn bat she's full of shit. Maverick? Oh, yes, he could very well be my son. But the baby Cass is pregnant with? No way in hell. No way. I haven't fucked her since the first week of school, and even then, I never came inside her or even came inside a condom I was fucking her with. And precum getting out of a condom is almost nearly impossible.

  The last time I came inside of a condom with her was this past summer when I was crashing in her parents’ pool house one night. I don't know how I can remember, but I do. We'd just gotten stoned out of our heads, and I was taking full advantage of it. Drinks were being passed around, and there were some space cakes there, too.

  That night, I fucked Cassandra, with a condom, while she was on her period. I may be a man, but I sure as hell paid attention in school during sex ed. A woman cannot get pregnant during her period. A healthy, average woman can only get pregnant about a week and a half to two weeks post period.

  I know this shit. I studied this shit. There was no way I was going to stick my dick in a pussy and not know this. The only person I'd had a problem with the condom breaking is Harloe. And she was on birth control, which was fine. Or so I thought.

  But Cass ... fuck, no.

  "You're not pinning that baby on me, Cass." I shake my head sadly, already knowing what she's trying to do.

  Venomous words slice open her flesh, causing Cass to flinch at the sting. She sits back on the bed and gets comfortable, which is another thing we need to talk about. She pulls her gaze away from me and stares off into space as silence cloaks us in its vicious web. The tenseness of it makes me nervous, and I don't do nervous. Period. People are nervous when it comes to being near me.

  And the longer we're both not saying anything, the more my mind runs away with me. Of course, I don't want to be around Cass. She damn near killed Harloe that day in the girl's bathroom. Had her two minions hold Harloe's head underwater until she ingested that disgusting liquid. Harloe grew sick from that, and she could have fucking died.

  So, why do I still feel this weird sense of loss? I don't know where it comes from, nor can I properly explain it, but every time I even look at Cass, I'm filled with this grand sense of emptiness, like I've missed something I should have picked up on a long time ago.

  I decide that right now isn't the proper time to worry about a thing like that. I know this baby isn't mine, so it's not my problem where she goes from here with the pregnancy. However, an unsettling feeling just won’t go away, and I didn't have that before coming in here. I need to find out why.

  "Why are you checked into the clinic?" I ask, eyes trailing up and down her covered torso.

  She still doesn't respond. And it's taking everything in me not to yell at her, demanding she tell me.

  Finally, she whispers, "I can't do it without you."

  "Do what?" I push off the wall, and I hope my closeness isn't a mistake that she sees as more. It's one person being compassionate to another. Something I haven't been toward anyone in quite some time.

  Her hands jerk up and then fall down beside her like cooked spaghetti. "Life."

  Her desolate voice pings a red flag. "Did ...? "

  She sighs. "Someone found me before the pills could digest. I've been here for a few hours, recovering."

  The confession slips freely from her lips so easily I can't help but do a double take. She's just told me that she's carrying a child, and within the span of ten minutes, she's telling me she swallowed a shit ton of pills to commit suicide.

  "You tried to kill yourself?" She nods, barely meeting my eyes. "Because I broke things off with you?" I hedge, somehow already knowing that's the answer. Not being conceited here, but I have a hunch, so I'm going with it. "You're pregnant?" She nods for the second time.

  Either it's my flagrant disregard for her story, or the skepticism she must hear shine through my voice because her reaction is everything I have come to expect from Cassandra Radcliff over the last few years.

  If she doesn't get her way, she gets vicious.

  She slaps the bed, much harder than the way her arms floppily fell earlier. There's a fire in her eyes when she narrows them my way. "I'm carrying your child! Don't give a shit what you say because this baby can only have one dad, and that's you. I don't sleep around."

  Oh, but she soon forgets she slept around more than I did. But that's not what has me so fucked right now. I'm still hung up on the fact she knew she was pregnant, which I'm starting to suspect is a goddamn lie, and still tried to kill herself. If she were pregnant with my child, even the dumbest person out there would know they had me right where they wanted me. I would have no other option but to take care of and provide for both of them until my child comes of age.

  I shake my head. "After swallowing enough pills to choke a donkey, I'm not sure there ever was a baby, Cass. No matter what went down between us, you'd know a baby would make me stick around, and you wouldn't endanger that. I may be an asshole, but I don't turn my back on responsibility, and you'd be counting on that. Now, what the fuck is going on? And if you're dishonest, I will know."

  My tirade ends abruptly, causing the room to succumb to the tense silence flowing between us. I rethink everything, and then just remember what the nurse said to me outside. "It's all a lie." She had to be talking about this. And if so, then what the fuck is Cass's endgame here?

  "I detest liars, Cass," I grit between clenched teeth. I come to the foot of her hospital bed, my fingers wrapping around the back and tightening until my nails turn white. "Tell me the goddamn truth, or I will choke it out of you."

  "Fine!" she explodes, throwing her hands up and allowing the sheet to fall to her waist. "Fine! It was all a lie, okay?"

  A look of disgust slides over my features. "Why in the blooming hell would you like about something like that?" The more I think about it, the angrier I get. "You lied about a child! About trying to commit suicide! That is not something to play around with!"

  "She can't have you!" Cassandra screams, looking manic and feral.

  "You don't get to choose who has me and who doesn't," I say. "That is my choice."

  "No!"

  Slapping the end of her bed, I roar, "She has a goddamn child! He could be my son! I'm not, and I do mean, not going to have you messing around with that."

  She mumbles something under her breath that I can't make out. When I'm about to ask her what that is, there comes a knock on the door just before a wiry man with thin, sleek, rimless glasses sweeps his way into the room, his lab coat flurrying behind him like a superman cape and his trusty clipboard.

  "How are we
feeling, Ms. Radcliff?" He glances up from his clipboard after he greets her with the questions, sadness and understanding shimmering in his eyes. Meanwhile, I roll mine and huff as I find a chair near her bed and sit down.

  "I'm doing swell, doctor." I don't miss the way her Southern drawl gets that much deeper and more pronounced, flirting on unprofessional. You know, since he's a campus doctor and all.

  He seems to hesitate in tearing his eyes away from her, but he does and pins me to my spot near the bed. "Are you here to escort Ms. Radcliff home?"

  I stare blankly at him, neither confirming nor denying. I didn't plan on it when I got here and still don't plan on it now, especially with the way she bold-faced lied to me in order to get here. You'd think someone who was put into the clinic for nearly committing the unthinkable would be in here for much longer than what Cass seems to have been.

  He hedges further. "Are you Hunter?" He looks down at his clipboard, adjusts his glasses, and then peers back up at me. "Hunter Prince?"

  He only gets a small nod from me.

  "Well ..." He puts the clipboard against his chest and wraps his arms around it, almost like he's crossing his arms. His stare is no-bullshit and instantly has my hackles rising. "You are responsible for Ms. Radcliff. According to her charts, you are the person to call in the event she ends up at the clinic. Just until she gets safely to her apartment," he hurries to say when he sees me about to open my mouth and say something. He shoots a soft look at Cass and then brings his eyes right back to me. "She had a nasty accident, Mr. Prince. She needs all the assistance she can get."

  "What was the accident?" I can't stop myself from asking. As far as I know, willingly swallowing pills isn't exactly classified as an accident. It's premeditated. Plus, she and I will get to the bottom of me being the person to call if she gets hurt. I’m not her next of kin. This is bullshit.

  His brows scrunch in confusion, his eyes flicking between Cass and me when he finally picks up on the tension between us. My eyes follow his, seeing hers just a bit rounder and slightly panicked. As if she didn't think about me asking such a question like that with everything else going on.

  Standing to my feet, it takes everything I have not to wring her scrawny neck. "So, doc, what accident?"

  "She didn't tell you?" He peers down at her, unable to catch her eyes because she's cowered in on herself and is looking at nothing else except the bedsheet she's picking at with her chipped nails.

  Chipped? Cass is always runway ready.

  "Oh, she told me a version, but I'd like to hear the truth if you don't mind."

  His eyes flick toward her, and I can tell he's trying to will her with his mind to look at him. But it's no use, Cass won't be doing that. This situation just continues getting more fucked up.

  Before he can utter a word, Cass explodes up from the bed in a flurry of activity. The doctor stumbles back from her abrupt movement, looking at her in disbelief, and then bringing his eyes up to me like it's a miracle or something. Cass flits about the room, and the only thing he can do is follow her movements in amazement.

  I, on the other hand, want the truth, and I have a feeling she's being like this because she doesn't want me to actually get it. Pathetic.

  "Tell me what accident, and then we will both get out of your hair."

  By the time I say this, Cass is slipping into her heels like nothing is wrong. My eyes widen when I see just how put together she is in the length of time it takes to get the doctor to focus on the task at hand, instead of her.

  Cassandra has been acting fishy for weeks now. Her visits are becoming more frantic, even though the guys turn her away. The last time she even came by the house was the night I found out about Maverick. Ever since then, it's been nearly complete radio silence.

  Well, whatever the hell her problem is, it ends now. I can't keep dropping shit to fix hers. Especially when nothing was wrong, to begin with. Harloe was blazing mad when I left the apartment earlier, and I doubt she'll ever allow me to get close again because I ran out to help Cass.

  If it weren't for the years Cass helped me after Harloe left Golden Oaks, I wouldn't have given another thought about it. But since she was there and did help me through it, albeit physically, then as some misplaced sense of responsibility, I felt like I needed to be here for Cass.

  But no more. I can't keep getting wrapped up in Cass's antics just because she doesn't want me around Harloe. If Maverick is mine—which I'm starting to believe is a very, very good possibility—then I will be spending a lot of time with his mom, too. Not that it is any of Cass's business.

  "Come on, Hunter," Cass croons from the doorway, looking back at me expectantly.

  "No," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "This, I gotta hear. So, doc, tell me."

  The good doctor swallows visibly. "She fell from her dorm window, said she was trying to see something and just slipped. It's a miracle nothing is broken, and she has no scratches or bruising. The awning caught her fall, and she landed softly in the grass."

  By the time he's done explaining, my mouth is hanging open in complete disbelief. Turning my head, I catch sight of Cass near the door looking as embarrassed as ever, cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink. She won't even look at me.

  "Thanks, doc," I utter, not even paying attention, just going on auto-pilot, as he hands me her discharge papers and script to get filled. All things that he should be giving to her because we’re no longer connected in any way.

  He bids us adieu, and then Cassandra and I are speed walking out of the clinic. By the time we make it outside, I’m able to see it's dusk, with the barest hint of light still left in the sky.

  We walk across campus toward her housing, which just so happens to be the same apartment building as Harloe's, and before we're able to make it off the grass and onto the parking lot, I can't hold my questions in anymore.

  "Why the fuck did you lie?"

  She nearly trips by the roughness in my tone, but quickly catches herself. "You wouldn't understand."

  This chick is bona fide crazy.

  "You're sure as shit right that I wouldn't understand. There's no use in lying about anything, Cass. You lied about a baby, and then about almost committing suicide. What the fuck?"

  She huffs. "It was the only way to get you there, and it didn't work out too well, so don't rub it in. You wouldn't have cared about me falling out of the window."

  "Rub it in?" I ask, flabbergasted. "Wouldn't care? Cass, I don't give a shit what you do, can't you understand that?"

  "Trust me, I know," she growls under her breath. "It's all her fault."

  I stop her right there, grabbing her arm to pull her around to face me. "This is the last time I will tell you, Cass. Whatever we had together is over. These stupid little stunts of yours will no longer work. Lose my number because, after this, I'm blocking your ass."

  Tears shimmer in her eyes. "Hunter."

  "Nothing you say will change my mind. The girl who helped me all those years ago isn't the girl who's in front of me today. Yes, you had your moments, but over the last three years, you have been pissing on our arrangement like I belong to you and warning others away. I was never yours, to begin with, can't you see that?!" I raise my voice, completely losing myself to the tumultuous storm building inside. "No matter how many times we fucked, I never once let you think we were more! From the get-go, you knew this was temporary. You know it's always been her!"

  Her face turns three shades of red. She starts huffing and puffing, raging like a bull, and when she can no longer hold it in anymore, she releases it all like a tidal wave. She releases a guttural scream that's sure to attract people's attention. She looks crazy and damn near mental when she completely loses it.

  "This is because of your bastard child, isn't it!" she screams like a banshee, throwing all her things to the ground in a fit of rage. "Before she came back, you were mine! You had your fun with other people, as did I, but we belonged to each other! Now, just because she has that disgusting creature li
ving with her, and claims he is yours, you're going to throw everything away! She fucked Owen, Hunter, so that child may not even be yours!"

  Like our anger is building off each other, I feel mine swamp me. Clenching my fists, I'm raging like the seventh circle of hell. And that is what makes me walk away and toward the building, putting some distance between us. From the corner of my eye, I see a couple of girls stopped right in the middle of the crosswalk, standing and gawking.

  "Take a goddamn picture!" I roar, scaring both of them with my abrupt yell and causing them to run off with their tails tucked between their legs.

  Pacing back and forth, I try to calm myself down before I go completely off. Just hearing someone call my son—Maverick—a bastard hits me all in the feels, largely targeting my anger. I don't like it. Not one bit.

  But what pisses me off just as much as hearing those words come out of her mouth is the fact she knows about Owen and Harloe. No one, except Harloe, me, and Owen know about that shit. No one.

  I know Harloe wouldn't say shit. I know for a goddamn fact I never said anything. So, that leaves one person, and I swear I'll rip his fucking throat out if he said anything.

  What am I saying? Of course, he did. He'd pass that shit around just to get another hit at me when it comes to Harloe. Well, I'll be fucked if that's going to happen again. As soon as I'm done with this bitch, and I get the results to Maverick's paternity, pissed or not, I'm making a trip home, and I'm beating his ass.

  I feel her near me, which causes a low grumble to reverberate in my chest. "Back off, Cassandra."

  She sniffs. "I'm sorry, Hunt," she releases in a shuddering breath. "Please. I didn't mean to say that."

  Turning around, I stare daggers at her. "You called a toddler a bastard, Cassandra! A two-year-old child! One that may possibly be mine!"

  She closes her eyes in shame. But I know it's all a trick. Cassandra Radcliff doesn't feel shame. All that in the clinic was a ploy to get me to believe all her lies. She's nothing but a snake, and I probably just fucking ruined the best thing in my life ... again ... because of her.