Chapter 11
Cameron
I locked my knees to keep me upright and searched Trix’s face, looking for any sign that showed me she wasn’t serious.
She couldn’t be serious.
I wrapped it up. Always. I was meticulous about that shit.
I knew that keeping her safe was all on me. She’d put that into my hands, had been clear from the very beginning. She didn’t want kids yet, and it was my job to keep that from happening.
I swayed a little on my feet.
Then I couldn’t help it—I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“You’re pregnant?” I asked stupidly, my heart starting to pound.
“Yeah.” The word was more of a sigh than an actual sound.
“Tha—that’s—”
“I don’t think I’m going to have it,” she whispered.
It took a second for me to understand her words, and when I did, nausea hit me fast and hard.
“What do you mean, you’re not going to have it?”
“I’m not that pregnant. We’ve only been together a little over a month, I can’t be—”
“Not that pregnant?” I asked sharply. “You’ve either got my kid in there or you don’t.”
“It’s just cells. It’s just—”
“What?” my voice was louder than I’d planned, and it broke in the middle like a fourteen-year-old kid’s.
“I’m not ready!” she yelled back, coming to her feet. “This is a fucking mistake!” She tucked her thumbs into her hands and dropped her head. “It’s just a mistake.”
A headache formed at the base of my skull, probably from the tightness in my shoulders as I stared at her.
“It’s fuckin’ magic.”
“What?” she tilted her head up to look at me, and her face was so fucking wrecked.
“This is magic, baby.” I said softly, stepping forward to lay my hand on her belly. “We were so careful. I was so careful—and he’s still in there growin,’ anyway. That’s fuckin’ magic.”
Her head started shaking before she stepped backward, away from my hand. “No. It’s—it’s just biology. We weren’t careful enough. We weren’t—”
“What’re you sayin’?”
“I want—I want—” her breath grew ragged as she tried to speak. “I don’t want it.”
I fell back a step, staring at her in confusion. I knew she was scared. Hell, fear was in every line of her body. But she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t get rid of our baby because she was scared.
I knew Trix. I’d known her since we were kids. She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that to me.
“You want an abortion?” I asked quietly. The word was so fucking heinous, my mouth felt dirty.
Trix made a noise in the back of her throat, one that sounded like a stifled sob. Then she nodded.
Everything inside me went cold. Everything. Every place inside of me that went soft for Trix, that warmed for her, completely vanished until there was nothing left.
“Your mother lost a son—your twin—because he was born too early, yet you’re gonna take our baby out so it dies? You fuckin’ heartless bitch.”
I barely felt the fists that slammed into my chest.
“Fuck you!” she screamed, her entire body vibrating with anger.
“No,” I hissed, taking a step back. “Wouldn’t touch your ass with a ten-foot pole.”
Her eyes went wide and filled with tears, but I had no sympathy for her. None.
I moved toward the door and slid my feet into my boots, not bothering to lace them before I grabbed my cut and stepped outside, slamming the door behind me. After I’d locked up, I went to the stairwell and sat down, dropping my head into my hands.
Holy fuck.
I couldn’t believe that shit had just happened. What the fuck was wrong with her? What the fuck could make her even think about having an abortion? That fucking cunt.
My hands shook as I called Will.
“What’s up?” he answered on the second ring.
“Hey, man.” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Can you come hang with Trix tonight? I got some shit to do—don’t want to leave her alone all night.”
“Everything alright?” I almost lost it at the sound of those words. That was my little cousin. The one who stepped in when you needed it. The guy you called when you were having a shitty fucking day or the best day of your life, because he wanted to hear about it either way.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yeah. Just got some shit to do.”
“No problem. Be there in twenty.”
He hung up and I stuffed the phone back into my jeans.
I didn’t know why I lied. I could have told him what was going on, but I hadn’t. Maybe somewhere, deep down, I didn’t want him to know that about Trix. I didn’t want him to know that about our relationship—that I’d been so fucking all-in that it was pathetic and she’d. . . Well, she didn’t want my kid. I guess that said it all.
I climbed to my feet and ran a hand down my face as I walked slowly to my bike.