Chapter 3
Rhett
Istare at my phone in disbelief.
There’s no way.
She’s fucking with my head.
Why, though?
The vibrations in my palm from the same number calling me back jolt me into reality.
This can’t be for real.
I swipe the phone screen to answer the call, anger surging through me.
“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, Abby, but this is a new low, even for you.”
She huffs and then hisses, “I’m telling you the truth. I just found out less than an hour ago.”
My blood turns to ice. This can’t be happening. We only had sex once, in a damn kitchen pantry, and I pretty much pulled out.
Pretty much.
“You took a test?” I demand.
“No, I just guessed. Yes, idiot, I took a test.”
Fuck.
“How do I know it’s mine?”
She snarls from her end. “You think I’m some whore? Screw you, Rhett.”
This time, she’s the one to end the call. For half a second, I’m grateful. But then I realize this isn’t going away. If it is mine, I need to manage the situation. Quietly. And quickly.
I dial her back and grit my teeth as I wait for her to answer. Finally, she does, and sighs heavily as if I’m the nuisance here. She just blew up my fucking life with two words. I’m pregnant. Yet, I’m the annoying one.
“So, the baby’s mine,” I say under my breath, not trusting my voice to carry through the walls at my house. “And you’re sure.” I scrub a palm over my face as panic consumes me. “It’s okay. We can fix this.”
Silence greets me in response.
“Hello?” I grumble. “Did you hang up on me again?”
“No,” she says icily. “I’m wondering what your idea of ‘fixing this’ entails.”
Is she really going to make me say it?
I guess fucking so.
“Get rid of it,” I grit out. “I’ll pay for it. Hell, I’ll even take you to the appointment.”
“I’m not killing our baby,” she says, voice shrill. “Are you insane?”
Our baby.
I’m going to throw up.
“I don’t want our baby,” I snap as bile burns the back of my throat. “It’s a mistake just like that night in the pantry.”
She scoffs. “Didn’t seem like you thought it was a mistake when you begged me to put my lips around your dick. And you certainly weren’t complaining when you were balls deep inside me.”
My traitorous cock thickens at the memory.
“Trust me,” I growl. “It was the worst mistake of my life.”
I’d been so consumed with lust that the entire sexual encounter now feels like a blur. I don’t even feel like it was me who participated. It was some awful part of myself that momentarily took the steering wheel and drove me straight into a fucking wall.
“I’m keeping it,” she says, fatigue in her words.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Abby.” My voice is hoarse and pleading. “You can’t. It’ll destroy my life.”
Her laugh is hollow and cold. “And what about mine? Does it not matter? Our baby’s life certainly doesn’t matter to you.”
Fighting with her isn’t going to solve anything. I need to take another approach.
“So, you bring it to term,” I say as calmly as I can. “Then what? Are you ready to be a mom? Last I checked, you don’t exactly have your life together.”
She doesn’t respond for an eternity and then mutters, “I know what my life is like. And who said I wanted to be a mother? Maybe adoption is the best option here.”
But adoption means people finding out she’s pregnant. People asking questions as to who the father is. A lot more drama and chaos.
“No one can know I’m the father.” I clear my throat and shake my head. “I can help you until you deliver, but I need that part of it to remain a secret.”
“Heaven forbid my perfect sister find out her perfect boyfriend is not so perfect.”
A flash of anger burns hot through me. “She can’t,” I snap. “I refuse to hurt her over a single, stupid moment.”
“It’s not like I talk to her anyway,” she bites back. “And even if I did—oh, shit, the cops.”
I frown in confusion. “What about the cops?”
“They’re looking for me. Dammit!”
She starts breathing heavily and I wonder if she’s running. What in the actual hell is going on right now?
“Why are they looking for you?” I demand. “What did you do now?”
“I didn’t do anything,” she hisses breathily. “It was what my dad did.”
“That makes zero sense.”
“He cut me off.” She curses and then cries out. “Ouch.”
“Abby,” I growl, my anxiety skyrocketing. “How does that involve the police?”
She’s fully huffing now as she runs. I’m not sure running is safe for a pregnant woman. But, what the hell do I know?
“I was…” Huff, huff, huff. “Starving. Spent my last few bucks on a pregnancy test.” More huffing.
“Then I remembered Dad’s credit card for emergencies.
” Huff, huff. “So, I considered starvation an emergency.” Huff, huff, huff.
“Went to the diner and when I used the card, it was declined. I had to sneak out of there.”
“Where are you?” I ask as I rise to my feet to hunt down my shoes. “Abby?”
“Hiding now.” Her breathing is stifled as if she’s trying to mask the sound of it. “Oh my God there are people living behind these dumpsters.”
“Hey pretty lady. Need some help?” a voice on her end says.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
I strain to listen. The man speaks again and there’s a slur in his words.
“Abby, tell me where the fuck you are right now,” I demand as I pocket my keys. “Send me a pin, dammit.”
Sure, I’m freaked the hell out about this whole pregnancy thing and screwing my girlfriend’s sister, but knowing the mother of my baby is alone in some alleyway stresses me out more in this moment.
My phone buzzes with a text. When I look at the address, my worry multiplies exponentially. She’s in the seediest area of town. You don’t go over there unless you’re trying to get mugged, shot, or worse.
For a pretty young woman like Abby, I fear what could be worse.
I rush out of the house, ignoring the confused looks of my family members. Once out to my car, I mash the button to start it and then get the route directions going.
“Are you still there with that guy?” I ask, voice gritty and dry.
“Yup.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Licking his lips. I’m going to have to use my mace, aren’t I?”
The fact she has a can of mace brings me comfort. “If he touches you, yes. The smart thing to do would be to leave that shithole you’ve hunkered down into.”
“Oh crap,” she hisses. “Flashlights. They’re coming.”
I gun it and blow through a yellow light as it turns red. My heart is racing a mile a minute. Abby is a thorn in my side, but I don’t want her to get hurt.
A commotion breaks out and Abby cries out.
Hell no.
“Abby,” I bark out. “What’s going on? Talk to me? Do you have your mace?”
I can hear her cursing and struggling. She calls someone a pig. A man yells back at her telling her to calm the fuck down.
The line goes dead.
“Fuck!” I roar as I push the limits of my car on the highway.
A few exits later and I’m on the road that’ll take me to the bad side of town. Once I’m near where the location of the pin is, I scan the area for Abby. When I see red and blue flashing lights, I know I’m close.
I pull up near the cop car and shut my vehicle off. Abby, with her hands zip-tied in front of her, is yapping angrily at the officer.
“Is there a problem?” I ask as I stride over to them.
“Yeah,” the cop says with sneer. “Someone here thinks she can break the law and get away with it. What’s it to you? You know her?”
“My girlfriend,” I lie, not looking at her when I say it. “Is this about the dine and dash mix-up?”
The cop barks out a laugh. “Not exactly a mix-up. She ate the food, didn’t pay, and ran away.”
I pull out my wallet and wave a hundred-dollar bill at the man. “I was just coming to pay it.” When the cop doesn’t look like he’s going to relent, I lower my voice. “She’s going through some mental shit, man. I’m trying to get her the help she needs. Throw us a bone here.”
Abby glowers at me, but I ignore her since I’m saving her ass.
“Fine,” the cop grumbles. “You take her home and I’ll deliver the cash to the diner.”
I take the prisoner in exchange for my hundred-dollar bill.
Abby rubs at her wrists after he cuts off the zip-tie.
The cop hands me her backpack. I clutch onto the back of her neck and guide her over to my car.
She breaks free, stomps over to the passenger side, and flings open the door.
Once I’ve tossed her bag into the back and we’re in the vehicle, I turn to look at her.
Abby is a polar opposite of my girlfriend. She’s all dark edges and spice. There’s nothing soft or gentle about her. Basically, she’s like a pissed-off, feral black cat.
Why the hell did you fuck her, man?
Before I can go back down that mental road again, I turn the car on and then drive away from the cop drama. Once we’re on the highway, Abby fidgets and huffs angrily.
“I just saved your ass,” I growl. “The least I could get is some gratitude.”
“Gee, thanks, baby daddy.”
I scowl at her. “Smartass.”
We ride in silence until I take the exit. This has her sitting upright and looking around.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to your house. Well, almost. You can walk from the corner. I don’t need anyone seeing us together.”
She shakes her head. “First of all, no. I’m not crawling back to my parents.”
I pull over to the side of the road and put the car in park.
“Too damn bad, Abs. You’re not coming home with me. Too many witnesses.”
Her shoulders deflate slightly and I feel like a dick for some reason. I hadn’t noticed it before, but she’s kind of gaunt. Too thin for someone eating for two. Dark circles ring her eyes and the usual mischief in them is dimmed.
“Where do you want me to take you then?”
She chews on her bottom lip on one corner, the lip ring plinking against her teeth. It makes me think of her lips in other ways that piss me off.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “I was trying to figure that out.”
“Where have you been staying?”
“Here and there.”
“Here and there,” I repeat, frowning. “What the hell does that even mean?”
She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “Can I just sleep here tonight?”
In my car on the side of the road? She really is insane.
“Abby,” I say, a warning in my voice. “Where am I taking you?”
She shrugs and her bottom lip wobbles. “I don’t know.”
That makes two of us.
“I just need a place to crash tonight,” she utters, voice thick with emotion. “Then I can see about getting my own place. Got a job that starts tomorrow.”
As much as I want to ask all the specifics about what sort of job she got, I bite my tongue. It’s in my best interest to not ask questions and get through tonight.
And her entire pregnancy.
Fuck.
I put the vehicle in drive and then hit the gas.
“You have some place in mind, baby daddy?”
“Don’t call me that,” I say with a grunt. “And, yes. It’s discreet. But you better be on your best behavior.”
She snorts at that. “Right. Because I’m so good at that.”
I may be able to hide this shit between us, but it’s never going away. I’m dating Angela and yet I’m out here late at night rescuing Abby like she’s my girl. My mistake is growing inside the wrong sister and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.