Dirty Game

“Why would you do this to your son? To your grandchild?” It made me sick making that connection, but it was true. I was carrying Roger Wyatt’s grandchild. His own flesh and blood.

“Because I love him more than anything. Anything. And he’s not yours. You hear me? Get your ass off this island.”

“Or what?” There was nothing he could say that would make me do this. I’d never leave Blake. I couldn’t pack up and pretend school started early. I had nowhere to go. No money. And now I was pregnant. Everything that was happening terrified me.

“I’ll tell him it isn’t his.” He snarled at me. “I’ll make him hate you. I’ll make him despise you. I’ll tell him that everyone has been talking about how you slept with Johnson Davis.”

“I did not. He knows I would never cheat on him.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you did. Maybe Blake needs to hear what a lying slut you really are.”

The tears mixed with my mascara and the burn was almost unbearable.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Take the deal. Take my money. Get off the island by tomorrow. I’ll keep him so busy tonight he’ll be too tired to call you. I’ve got sanding that needs to be done.”

“We could have the baby together.” I tried to convince him. “Raise your grandchild like a family.”

I looked around desperately for Blake’s mother. She was my salvation. The one chance I had of staying. She would never send away her first grandchild—never.

He laughed. “Family? You don’t even know who your parents are. You’ve been raised by some woman you think is your aunt.”

The anger rammed through my lungs.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep. So pack up. And don’t communicate with my son. It’s the only chance you have of saving any reputation you have.”

“Martha will want to know,” I pleaded.

I saw the man I had begun to despise choke back a sob. It was instinct, but I rushed to his side. Carefully, I touched his shoulder.

His angry eyes peered at me.

“We haven’t told Blake yet.”

“Told him what?” I asked.

“She’s seen two specialists. Martha has stage four…”

“Oh my God.” I clasped his arm. “I’m so sorry. I-I can’t believe it.”

He straightened his shoulder and stepped out from my touch. “So your timing couldn’t be worse. Martha needs Blake now. She needs all of us.”

“But the baby could give her something to fight for. Don’t you think that’s powerful medicine?” I knew I was begging and pleading, but I was fighting for my life and for the place this baby deserved in its own family. Every time Mr. Wyatt opened his mouth I only fell deeper into the abyss of the hopelessness he created.

“You’re nothing but a scandal. Your shame is no one’s medicine,” he snarled. “I have a dying wife. Can’t you hear me? And I have a son who has a future. You don’t belong here. I have a family to take care of.” His legs stiffened. “Now go before Blake gets back.”

He kept talking, but I couldn’t listen to anymore. My body shut down. My emotions closed in on me.

He hated me. Actually despised me. And then he threw in the part about my parents and Aunt Lindy. If he was trying to derail me, it worked.

I drove home in a fog.

I slowly climbed the stairs and packed all the clothing I had in my bag.

That night I stuffed them into the back of my Jeep and left the island for the last time.