Slashed (Extreme Risk 3)

“I’m definitely right. So, what are you doing up here, anyway? Streetstyle isn’t really your scene.”

“I came to get you. Obviously.”

“But how did you know I’d be here?”

This is my place. I’ve never shown it to anyone before. Except Cam—which, now that I think about it, is probably all the answer I need. She’s always been bad about keeping secrets—even small, harmless ones—from Z.

“Virgin pow? First of the season? Where the fuck else would you be except for your super-secret snowboarding lair?”

Maybe it wasn’t Cam after all. Maybe Z just has the snowboarding “Force” that tells him everything. When it comes to him, stranger things have happened. Besides, it doesn’t really matter does it? If I have to share this place, I’d rather it be with him.

We sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying what is essentially the first real day of winter. But I’m hungry—hard not to be after I barged four runs with no food at all in my system—and I decide to see if he wants to catch some breakfast. But before I can ask, he pulls out a silver flask and takes a long pull from it. Then he holds it out to me.

“I thought you’d given up drinking before noon.”

“I have.”

I eye the flask in his hand. “Could have fooled me.”

“Yeah, well, this is more for you than me.”

“Really.”

I can feel myself tense because if Z thinks I need to be drinking, then something’s going on with Cam. And if that’s the case, then fuck, yeah, I need a drink. A big one. To hell with my empty stomach.

I take the flask, take a sip—and grimace at the taste of tequila. Of course that’s what Z’s drinking. Of course. You’d think I’d be used to the taste of the stuff considering how many years I drank it for no other reason than because I wanted to be like him—but I’m not. All this time and I still can’t stand the stuff.

I hand the flask back, then brace myself—mentally and physically—for whatever comes next. “Tell me,” I say.

“She’s going to kill me for this,” he says, looking into the distance for a few interminable seconds. “But I don’t give a shit. You need to know.”

“Need to know what?”

He focuses on me, then, his blue eyes staring me down with laser-like precision.

“Cam’s pregnant. And I don’t give a shit what went down between you. You need to be there for her.”

At his words, my world spins off its axis. And my first thought, next to OH MY GOD, is that of course Z chose to tell me this when we were sitting on a fucking roof. He’s always had more faith in my ability to stay balanced than I deserve….

Chapter 15

Cam

“I don’t understand how this could happen,” I tell my doctor after she confirms that the three different pregnancy tests I’ve taken weren’t giving me false positives after all. “I’m on the pill. I don’t miss doses. I’m careful.”

Not careful enough, obviously. She doesn’t say it, and maybe I’m just imagining it, but the words hang there in the air between us as she puts my chart down and scoots her stool closer to the exam table I’m sitting on.

“We had you on the lowest dose pill we could, since the goal was to regulate your cycle for competition versus protecting you from pregnancy. After the last one made you so sick, we switched to this one because of just how low the dose was—enough to lighten your periods and get them consistent, but not enough to—”

“—to keep me from getting pregnant.”

I finish her sentence for her, even as I wrack my brain trying to remember our last conversation about this. I don’t remember her saying specifically that this pill might not be strong enough contraception, but that doesn’t mean much. At the time, it had been over a year since I’d had a boyfriend and since Z didn’t know I existed, I wasn’t particularly concerned about its contraceptive benefits, or lack thereof.

Now, however, I’m very concerned. Only it’s too fucking late to do anything about it.

“I’m so stupid,” I tell her. “I didn’t even think about it. And then, when all I did was spot for my last couple of periods, I figured it was the pill. It wasn’t until I missed this one completely that I thought I might be pregnant.”

And still I hadn’t believed it. I took the test because I wanted to be sure that I was overreacting—and now that I’m sure I’m not overreacting, it blows all my carefully laid plans for this year straight to hell.