Page 8 of Sold to My Ex's Brother
I manage to yell something in Dylan’s direction, to let her know that I’m getting the heck out of here and that she shouldn’t bother calling me. I can hear her yelling protests after me, but I don’t care.
I just need to leave. I need to put as much fucking space between myself and this place as I can and get home because…
I’mfucking pregnant.
This couldn’t have come at a worse time. I feel the tears prick the backs of my eyes as I wander in the direction of my apartment, hardly aware of where I’m even going, just certain that it needs to be away from all of this. I have no money, and my father’s debts are piling on top of me, impossible to escape. I have no room to live, and I’ll be off the health insurance in just a few weeks.
And when that happens, how am I meant to support a child?
Of course, I could turn to the father to help.
That’s what anyone else would have done in this scenario, if they were smart, if they weren’t as much of an idiot as me and hadn’t slept with someone without so much as getting their name before it happened.
I sink down at the side of the road, pressing my hands on to my knees and trying to pull myself together, but it doesn’t do much. I can feel a few people glancing at me, but I don’t care. Dark shadows swim in front of my vision, and I inhale deep, unsteady breaths, attempting to drag myself back down to earth, even as I find myself spinning out of control.
What was it Wagner had said to me?That there were options, if I wanted to discuss them?
I know what she’s getting at, of course, and it’s something that I’m going to have to consider. I’m in no position, financially or otherwise, to raise a child, and any life that I could give them would be limited by the weight of money troubles and paying off my father’s debt. And yet...
And yet, as I look down at my belly, I feel a deep pang of sadness at the thought of not going through with this pregnancy.
I’ve already lost so much as it is—my father was the last family that I had, and, even if he has revealed himself to be the worst kind of shithead in the months since his death, his absence has left me feeling more alone than ever.
This baby, as tiny as they might be right now, feels like a small lifeline to an existence I might actually be able to make some sense of.
I notice a few more people staring at me and decide the best course of action is to take a second to gather myself. I duck down an alleyway that leads off the main thoroughfare, and lean back against the wall, catching my breath.
See? It’s all going to be okay.It’s been months since I last laid eyes on Artem, and I’m sure he’s lost interest in me by now, no doubt moved on to the next girl he wants to get his teeth into.
Everything is fine. I’ll figure it out.
But… What if he finds out about this pregnancy? No doubt he’ll be convinced that he’s the father. He strikes me as the type to believe that it all revolves around him in that way.
My mind flashes back to the man who came after me, the way he spoke to me, his lip curled into a sneer of disgust as he gripped my arm. The bruises took weeks to fade, a reminder of what I’d gotten myself into, and I’ll never let that happen again.
I straighten up, glancing up and down the alleyway through my tear-blurred gaze. I just need to get home, then I can figure out what I’m going to do next, and we can take it all from there...
However, just as I turn to head off, I hear something. Something... something familiar. I whip around, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as footsteps rush towards me. For a moment, I think it must be Dylan, someone from work, coming after me to make sure that I see out the end of my shift…
But then, I feel someone grab me by the arm, yanking back towards them roughly, and I know it couldn’t be Dylan.
My heart drops.No.I should have stayed at the bar, coming out has only left me vulnerable.
What the hell am I doing?I try to scream out, but before I can, a hand clamps over my face, rendering me silent.
“Nobody to help you this time,” a voice growls in my ear—the same voice that terrified me all those weeks ago, when that man had me pinned against my door as he threatened me.
And then, he moves something in front of my face. It takes me a second to make sense of what it is, a heavy, chemical scent fillingmy senses. My vision blurs and my knees grow weak beneath me.
I scramble to try and escape, to try and put as much distance between myself and this man as I can, but it is already too late for that. The world swirls into a helpless blackness, and the last thing I’m aware of before everything closes in around me is the feeling of that man’s arms gripping me—and the knowledge that, whatever I might have escaped last time…
I willnotbe so lucky this time around.
4
ANTON
I stepout of the car, eyes narrowed, and cast my gaze around the street upon which my brother’s bar sits.
