When Rivals Love (Bayshore Rivals 3)

“What are you doing here?” I question, squinting my eyes because the light is still blinding me.

My father crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze hardening with each second. “I expected better from you, Harlow. I didn’t think you would be this irresponsible, but after everything, I suppose I’m not really surprised.”

Whoa, all I did was faint. Maybe I need to take better care of myself. Be less stressed, eat more… I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s not anything as bad as he’s making it out to be.

“Please leave, the hospital was wrong to have called you.” I murmur, shaking my head with disappointment. I don’t want them here. Neither of them. I’ll call one of the Bishops to come and be with me. As I shift against the scratchy sheets, a throbbing starts to pulse behind my eyes. A migraine is forming there, and having my parents here is only making it worse.

“Excuse me, but I am your father even if you don’t want me to be, and I have every right as the person who pays for your medical insurance to know what is going on.”

I can’t help it; my eyes roll to the back of my head on instinct. “Just because you pay my medical bills doesn’t mean you’re my father. You have to actually act like one to be considered one, and in my eyes, you aren’t one, at least to me. Besides, I didn’t ask you to pay for anything. Leave the bill and leave me.”

A vein bulges in his neck, his cheeks fill with blood, and he starts to look like a red balloon more and more.

“Your mother and I are the only ones here. I don’t see your precious Bishop brothers standing next to your bed, checking up on you. Like always, they’ve done wrong and left the mess for someone else to clean up.”

“What are you talking about? There is no mess. I’m fine. I just need to take a little better care of myself. This has nothing to do with them, and the only reason they are not here right now is because they don’t know I’m here.” My defenses are up. Like always, my father finds a way to make me feel small and insignificant.

A smile like I’ve never seen before appears on his lips. It’s not a kind smile, nor is it really a vicious one. It’s more of a, I know something you don’t smile, and that leaves my stomach churning, twisting, and knotting.

“Oh, this has everything to do with them. Everything.” The way he speaks, with so much disdain, so much vile hate toward the Bishops makes me want to hurt him. How dare he speak about them in such an ill manner. How dare he come here and act like he cares.

“I want you to leave, now,” I growl, fisting the sheets to stop myself from getting up and slugging him. He might be my father in the sense of his name being on my birth certificate, but he might as well be a dead-beat. I don’t want or need him in my life. All the lies, the secrets, the way he tried to manipulate me. I’ll never forget or forgive him for that.

“And I want you to get an abortion.”

The room spins around me, my mouth pops open and stays that way as I flounder like a fish out of water. He can’t mean… No, it’s not possible. How? I’m on birth control. He’s lying. He has to be.

“What… what are you talking about?” I ask, finally finding the courage to speak. My voice wavers between barely restrained panic and fear.

“Do you even know which one of them is the father? Wait, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter who the father is. You’ll be getting an abortion either way.”

“I’m pregnant?” I say the words out loud as if I didn’t already put the pieces together. Of course, I’m pregnant. How did I not see this before?

“Not for much longer,” my father chides, looking down at me like I’m a disappointment to the world. Well, likewise, dearest dad.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a say in it, isn’t it? Now leave. I never asked for you to be here, and I won’t let you dictate any more of my life!” I yell, gathering up every ounce of strength I have to sit up a little taller. Maybe he could push me around before, make me be his little puppet, but not anymore.

I’m about to yell, to tell them to get the hell out again when someone knocks on the door, interrupting my little outburst.

“Come in,” my mother answers before I can make a sound. I watch the door as the unknown person pushes it open. Every fiber in my body hoping and praying that one of the guys is on the other side of that door. But when the door swings open all the way, all I’m left with is more disappointment.