Page 23 of Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 5)
If I was pregnant when I stepped into the halls of Prescott High yesterday, I’m not anymore. I just know it. I know it because I’m bleeding again and there’s red all down my thighs. My belly cramps as if in response to that thought.
A soft knock at the door makes me jump just before Aaron cracks it open to peer in at me.
“You okay, Bernie?” he asks, and the genuine concern in his voice stabs me right through the heart. He looks down at the floor beneath my feet, spattered with red. He lifts those gold-green eyes up to mine as I clench my jaw against the rush of feeling that spirals through me. Am I relieved? Pissed-off? Am I upset? All of those things?
“I think …” I start, but the words just don’t seem to want to come out. Aaron slips in the door and closes it behind him, leaning against it with his massive body. When did he get so big? When did he outgrow that gangly teenage form and get muscles in his upper arms like that?
I turn back toward the mirror and find my green eyes again. I have dark circles, too, just like Aaron. Drawn, pale, tired. Determined. My eyes shine with conviction in a way they never have before, even if the rest of me looks like a corpse.
“You think what?” he asks carefully, voice low and neutral. Gentle but not patronizing. I’m just glad it’s him in here and not Victor. I cannot deal with Vic’s reaction to this right now. He’s going to fucking explode.
With shaking hands, I shove my pants to the floor and tear off my shirt, climbing into the shower and turning the water on cold. A gasp of surprise escapes my throat when the cool water cascades over my skin, sending crimson swirls down the drain. Fuck, shit, bitch. How am I supposed to bring this up today of all days?! And while Callum is still missing?
I’m not a religious woman, but if I were, I’d curse out whatever god or goddess is in charge of my existence. This is … well, it’s bullshit is what it is. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall. When did this happen? I wonder, because there’s no way I’m that far along. Likely, this is a chemical pregnancy—meaning it’s five weeks or less along. If that’s the case, then I don’t need medical treatment but … holy fuck.
I open my eyes again to find him watching me.
“Do you need a moment to yourself?” Aaron asks, raising a brow at me. He taps tattooed fingers against the door behind him and then comes to stand beside the tub, the medical boot making his walk just a bit lopsided. “I’m inclined to say fuck that and stay here anyway, but if you really want me to go …” He trails off and then tucks his hands into the pockets of the borrowed sweats he’s wearing. Second time getting arrested during senior year. Good for him. A Prescott boy through and through.
“Would you?” I ask, leaning my naked body against the wall of the shower. Aaron tries to be a gentleman, but his eyes make a sweep of my body just once before landing on my face again. “I mean, if I told you to go, would you really?”
He pauses for a long moment and then smiles tightly at me. A single dimple appears on his face, despite the gravity of the moment. Cal missing, the GMP on our asses, the feds with our phones. That’s how you really know you’re in love, when you’d rather face a crisis with your partner than an eternity of bliss alone.
“I …” I start, feeling the words get stuck in my throat. They’re suddenly sticky and strange, almost sharp as they scrape through to my lips. I may very well start bleeding from the mouth next. “The hospital …” Reaching up a hand, I press it against the side of my head and close my eyes again. As Shakespeare once said, Uneasy is the head that wears a crown. Nobody ever said this was going to be easy. My eyes open and I meet Aaron’s green-gold gaze. “I’m pregnant.”
There’s a moment there where he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. He looks down at the water which, at least for now, has started to run clear. Then back up at me again. His face betrays nothing, a façade of calm meant to help me keep my own feelings in check. When I look too deeply into his eyes, however, I can see every emotion he’s trying so hard to contain.
“Bernie,” Aaron begins, blinking at me as he takes my face between his hands. My stomach muscles seize, and I grimace against the pain. “Is that what the hospital called about?”
