Untouchable (Untouchables, 1)

I know I can’t ask it again, either. I don’t like that he won’t just give me satisfactory answers to certain questions so I can put them to bed. I don’t like that he keeps me uncertain and makes me feel crazy. Pre-Carter, I didn’t have fits of insecurity thinking my boyfriend might already be unfaithful. I didn’t worry that I would get pregnant, or that my grades would drop and tank my future, or about almost any of the things I worry about now.

I let Carter off the hook a lot, but he has to know that sometimes he has to cut the evasive bullshit and actually answer me. The only way he’ll learn is if I show him, so not for the first time, while he carries Chloe up to bed, I grab my purse, slip my shoes on, and get ready to leave.

When Carter comes back, he slows down as he takes in the fact that I’m ready to go. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks casually, as he approaches.

“Home,” I tell him, sliding my purse onto my shoulder. “I have a long day of work and studying ahead of me tomorrow, so I need to get some sleep.”

Wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me close, he asks, “And you don’t think I’ll let you get any sleep if you stay here?”

Cracking a smile despite myself, I tell him, “I cannot stay here again.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t live here. I told my mom I was helpin’ you babysit your little sister and then I’d be home. Babysitting is finished. Time for me to go.”

“You can’t just ask a guy if he’s ever knocked someone up and then bail,” Carter states.

“Why not? Didn’t seem like you planned to answer me anyway. If the answer was no, it would have been pretty simple to just say that. If the answer is yes…” I trail off, shaking my head, because I don’t even know how to keep going.

It’s one of those thoughts I don’t expect I’ll have to finish, because despite the insanity of this even being a question, the answer has to be no. I have no frame of reference for where to even go after this if it isn’t.

Instead of immediately setting my mind at ease, Carter asks, “If the answer is yes…?”

My stomach knots up and lightens all at once, like I just jumped off a ledge and now I’m anticipating the splat of my body hitting pavement. “I don’t…” I shake my head, searching for words. “I don’t know. Then I have about a million more questions.”

“What’s at the top of the list?”

I try to pull back, but he doesn’t let me go. “Is the answer yes, then? Who? When? Did she keep it? Was it Erika? Is that why you literally make her crazy? Is Chloe really your little sister? My God. You’re eighteen.”

“Breathe,” he says mildly, watching my face.

I’m too busy freaking out to breathe. He needs to start answering some of my questions, but at the same time, I’m afraid of my own reaction if he does. As much as I’ve been able to swallow, there’s something about this I can’t get down. I’ll feel bad pushing him away for telling me the truth, but some truths are just too hard to swallow.

It’s not even Chloe. If she is his, it’s wild that he could possibly be my age and have a five-year-old, but it’s more the idea that he has already experienced that milestone with someone else that bothers me—especially if it was Erika. I need to know if it was Erika. She’ll never leave me alone, not in a million years, if it was her.

Much more calmly, Carter tells me, “It’s too soon to have this conversation. I know that’s a shitty answer and I’m sorry for it, but it’s too soon.”

“I mean, this is the conversation, Carter. You can’t just leave me hanging from the edge of a cliff like that. Whether you want to give me details or not, you basically answered the question. It’s yes.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” he states, running his hands down my arms in a stabilizing rhythm.

“Was it Erika?”

“No, it wasn’t Erika. She has nothing to do with this,” he answers. “I didn’t get anyone—” He stops, shaking his head and looking away from me. “I just need you to trust me on this, all right? It’s not what you’re imagining. I’ll explain it to you someday, but you know all you need to know right now.”

“Did you love her? The girl you…?”

“No.”

“Do you still… I mean, is she around? Do you see her?”

“No. I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. There’s nothing about this that will ever affect you. There are no hidden strings waiting to trip you. There’s no baby mama drama, nothing like that. I have no ties to her. She’s gone and she’s not coming back.”