Chapter 15
Drew
“Thank you, Ms. Drew,” Hailey says and I give the cute little six-year-old a wave as she skips out of the studio holding her mom’s hand, her crazy curly hair slowly falling out of her bun.
I chuckle a little as I go to the storage room, grab the mop and bucket, and head back out to clear up the spilled orange juice. My hands tremble, that wave of nausea hitting again—sour, insistent. Breathe. Just get through this. I swallow hard, fighting the urge to vomit.
For two weeks, I’ve felt sick, but for two weeks, I didn’t think about it until Bellamy opened up to me.
“She was pregnant…”
Bellamy’s words from two days ago hit me straight in the chest, and I take a deep breath as I fill the bucket up with floor chemicals, then water.
I know I can’t ignore the feeling—I can’t just brush it under the rug. We haven’t exactly been careful, I mean, yes I’m on the pill, but that isn’t always effective, and I’ve somehow missed two periods without realizing.
I shake my head and wheel my mop and bucket over to the benches where one of the kids dropped their drink, and I quickly clean up the mess before mopping the whole studio.
My little six-year-olds were the last class today. Bellamy will be here soon, so my plan, even if it is a stupid one, is to hope and pray that my period comes in the next two weeks and ignore all the symptoms.
I’ve been under a lot of stress, especially with the three shows I’ve conducted and the dancing I've done with my students to help raise money for several different charities. Don’t get me started on my sister's constant complaining…
Apparently, two days ago, Dad banned Drake from the house after he snuck into my old room and defaced it. By telling him he’s not welcome, I mean, Dad hit him and dragged him out of the house, which I’m actually sad I missed.
Elizabeth blames me—shocker. Now, she’s blowing up my phone with nasty messages about how I’m jealous, blah, blah, blah. You know, the usual crap but it’s a lot, so maybe that is why I’ve missed so many.
I can’t be pregnant, it will probably destroy my relationship because of Bellamy’s past.
My phone rings as I empty the bucket down the drain. I sigh as I walk over the freshly cleaned floor and grab it, but frown seeing a number I don’t recognize.
"Hello?" I answer cautiously, mindful that it could be my sister.
“Hi, is this Drew?” a woman asked hesitantly.
I hum and agree, “It is…”
“O-Okay, um, uh, well, uh, you see,” she stutters, and I frown until she says, “My name is Whitney….”
“Bellamy’s sister?” I confirm softly.
She clears her throat. “He speaks about me?”
“Of course, all the time, you and Angie,” I admit, and she gasps.
“He speaks about Angie?” she confirms with a slight tremble.
I smile, taking a seat on the bench and I admit, "He does, especially about how she couldn’t really swim but loved to sneak out to the pool on your family’s property. He also mentioned the movie nights he’d do for you both, and how you both loved to gang up on him…"
"He’s healing," she sniffles and I sigh.
"He is," I confirm, concerned. "Is there a reason you called, Whitney? Are you okay?"
She sniffles again and chokes, “Mom said he finally spoke to him and mentioned you. I tried to call him several times, but he still won’t answer my calls, so I looked you up…”
“I feel like I failed her. I just need time to forgive myself for leaving her when she needed me.”
Bellamy’s words from last night come back to me when I questioned why he’s ignoring his sister’s calls.
"He feels like he failed you," I say quietly, hoping she understands it isn’t personal.
“He didn’t fail me,” she gasps, and I nod even though she can’t see me.
“I know, but he was hurting and held a lot of guilt,” I say, “It’s something he feels, and before he can confront those feelings, he’s trying to forgive himself.”
She lets out a sob, then pleads, “I want my brother home. Can you convince him?”
I flinch before I deny, “No, I’m sorry, but I can’t and I won’t.”
“Because you don’t want to move?” she asks curtly despite the tears lacing her voice, and I flinch again.
I understand she’s upset, but I’m not keeping her brother from her. He can decide what he wants without my input because I won’t have him resent me for forcing him to return to his club, his home.
“Whitney, I’ll go wherever he goes, always, whether he decides to stay here or if he decides to move home. Heck, I would follow him across the globe. I will be by his side because I love him, he’s my person, but it has to be his decision to return,” I state firmly.
Whitney is quiet for a moment before she chokes, “I like you.”
Huh, here I thought she’d snap at me but then again, my only interaction with a sister is my own so…
"I like you too, Whitney,” I say softly, “Bellamy has said nothing but nice things about you and I cannot wait to meet you in person," The bell above my door dings, "I have someone here, so I have to go, but you can save my number. Maybe we can become friends, and in the meantime, I’ll try to convince Bellamy to answer your calls. "
“Thank you, Drew,” She chokes then hangs up and I sigh, turning to see whose here but I roll my eyes at Drake's angry glare, though I snort at his cut lip.
Dad clearly has a good right hook – again, sad I missed it…
"You can turn around and get out before I add to your injuries," I threaten with a chuckle, his lip looks hilarious.
In hindsight, probably the wrong thing to say and do.
He growls like a damn dog before storming my way. Instead of moving away, not believing he would physically hurt me, I stand my ground.
I didn’t expect the dick to backhand me. He hits me hard and my face snaps to the right, and I blink in shock at the pain that spears through me.
Crap, that hurt…
I blink several times, trying to remove the tears and he grabs my face hard, forcing me to look at him as he sneers, “This is all your fault, everything that has happened in my life, is down to you!” he flares his nostrils at me, “My career, my prison time, your dad hitting me, it’s all your fucking fault! ”
And the award for the most delusional goes too…
“We were dating for a fricking month when we were fifteen, Drake! How are all the decisions you have made since then my fault?” I snap, trying to ignore the stinging in my face as I shove his hand off me, “I saw you more as a friend, that was it, we were children. Every single decision you have made since then is on you, not me, so grow the hell up, you immature little boy!”
His cheeks redden and I curl my lip at him, then turn to walk away to avoid kneeing him but again, not very smart on my end. The phrase ‘don’t turn your back on a rabid dog’, yeah, I should have taken that seriously.
The slimeball takes the chance to lash out again.
He grabs my arm, twists it behind my back, spins me around, and then backhands me again. I choke back a gasp as my lip instantly stings and I know he’s cut me.
Son of a…
I yank my arm out of his grip and as the door dings causing him to turn his head, instantly being distracted, I take my chance for revenge and lift my knee. I ram it into his groin as hard as I can. He gasps out a grunted scream and falls to the floor holding between his legs.
I smirk as I hear, “What the fuck?” growled from across the room, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“Hey, darling, fancy taking out the trash for me?” I sass, hoping to distract the love of my life so he doesn’t shoot Drake in front of me.
Now, if he wants to do it when I’m not around…
“Little bird, this isn’t the time to be cute,” Bellamy growls while glaring at a pained Drake who is still on the floor holding his junk, moaning and crying like a baby.
Serves him right though.
“Kind of is because I don’t want you to shoot him in front of me,” I joke back, and Drake looks at me sharply, fear lacing in his teary eyes as he gasps in pain. I kinda like that.
Okay, so maybe Bellamy’s been rubbing off on me.
“Blade, I need a favor,” my boyfriend says, I gulp at the fury in his eyes as he looks at my split lip, his eyes narrowed. I try not to flinch, knowing Drake is going to wish he’d just stayed away.
I should be scared right now, I should be walking away from him, yet, oddly enough, the man is turning me on.
As I said, he’s been rubbing off on me…