11. Eleven
Eleven
Sabrina
A few days later, another girls’ night out is a welcomed excuse to leave the house. I need to finish painting my nesting dolls.
I park a couple of stores down from the paint-your-own-pottery studio. Most of the shops are closed and there aren’t any creepy guys darting around corners.
My nerves have mostly settled after second-guessing the little stunt I pulled with Flame. And instead of exploring that he might want me to call him Daddy, he’s been holed up in his office.
He swears he’s busy analyzing a bunch of data Ghost and Ruckus sent over and tracking down details. They can’t waste any time figuring out if the details lead to Ty.
The only exception was that he offered to drive me tonight, but I don’t want to be the reason he wastes time.
Plus, Ghost and Ruckus are supposed to get home tonight while I’m gone, and Flame wants to talk to them without me, first. He promised we’d have sex tonight, even if we have to keep the relationship quiet for now. It’s a lot.
Jasmine, Betsy, and Naomi walk up at the same time as me, and I should be thinking about how they’re doing, but all I can think about are Flame’s words: I’ve wanted you for so long.
Then Jasmine’s sudden rush to the bathroom hones my focus. With the three of us rushing after her, things escalate quickly. Betsy pulls pregnancy tests out of her purse.
Why does she have those? My head is spinning. Could she and Jasmine be pregnant?
“We can take them together,” Betsy tells Jasmine.
Jasmine waves the test stick. “Not the kind of bonding I was hoping for tonight. I’ll put my faith in my birth control pills and wait two days. Anyone else need it?”
Nervous glances pass between all of us. Any of us could be pregnant. The Christmas Cherry Auction isn’t just perfect for kicking off relationships. A lot of babies happen, too.
“Truth be told… I have a test at home,” I say, shocked at how easily I lie. Why? The answer doesn’t take long to surface. There’s zero percent chance I’m letting them talk me into taking the test right now. All of my weird symptoms aren’t so mysterious. Crap.
Naomi makes it clear that we need to know if Jasmine’s sick or pregnant. Good thinking. She obviously thinks clearer in stressful situations than I do. My big contribution is washing the sinks with soap after Jasmine and Betsy set their pregnancy test sticks on them.
Then it’s time to finish painting my nesting dolls and pretend I’m not freaking out. With the smallest two left, I’m able to minimize the patterns from the larger two. The smallest one is nothing more than a few blocks of color, which is a good thing because the fact that I may have basically turned into a nesting doll is weighing too heavily on my mind to handle anything elaborate.
Putting the finishing touches on, I take the dolls to the counter where they’ll finish them in the kiln.
I say goodbye to my friends and head to my car. It’s a few spaces farther away than last time, and despite trying not to look across the street, for fear of giving in to paranoia, I do.
The corner is empty. The quiet calm of the night is a sharp contrast to my mind.
I inhale the crisp air and laugh at myself for equating the stillness to the calm before the storm. A storm nine months in the making. Even if Ghost doesn’t want to step up as a father, I’m certain he’ll make sure his baby is provided for. And Flame can serve as my backup plan, as long as raising his brother’s baby doesn’t freak him out.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I retrieve my keys from my purse and grab my lip gloss too. The metal roller ball is cold against my lips.
Then out of nowhere, someone bumps into me.
No! He’s grabbing me. His hand is over my mouth. I try to scream but it’s muffled. My feet swing in midair as I try to kick him. He lifts me, taking total control.
It’s Ty. I know it even though he hasn’t said a single word. What is he going to do to me? To us? Protective instincts leave me more worried about the baby in my belly than for myself. How can that be? I don’t even know for sure that I’m pregnant.
I’m torn between fighting to get away and going the route of compliance so I don’t risk the pregnancy. It’s a twisted decision.
But when my attempts to get away fail, and he shoves me into the back of a van, climbing in and handcuffing my hands and feet to a seat, compliance is my answer. I’m not much of a physical force. But I can be smart. Hopefully as smart as Naomi.
While Ty drives, I assess myself and the situation. Physically, I’m fine. My purse is on the floor beside him. My keys are visible in the open top. They must have fallen in when he grabbed me. My phone is in there too.
I have to find a way to get my hands on it and send my stepbrothers a message. Flame’s expecting me to call on my way home. How long before he realizes something’s wrong?