Page 32 of Reticent

I blow out a noisy breath. My dad doesn’t get it. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“He’s just a symptom. There is a greater problem.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re desperate for love. He showed you attention and you opened your legs for him. I think … it's partly my fault. Maybe I didn’t pay you enough attention when you were younger.”

I scoff and choke on a sob at the same damn time. “Daddy, I love you. But I can’t … I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what? Think long and hard before you say what I think you’re going to say.”

“I need a break … from you.” I don’t want to do this. But I have too. I love my dad and my stepmom, but I’m tired and I’m hurt. In order to protect my peace and my heart, I need space.

He gets real quiet. “You do what you think you have to do. But God help that baby. Both his parents are lost. I’ll pray for him, and for you, that you’ll truly repent.”

“Pray for yourself, Dad.” I hang up and toss the phone to the floor. Anger courses through me at the mention of my baby.

Tears overflow from my eyes as I speed through a yellow light. There isn’t enough time to scream over what I see through my blurred vision. I slam on my brakes but not soon enough for the car that’s coming my way across the intersection on a left turn.

It all happens so fast.

The crushing impact.

The sound of metal scraping metal.

The smell of burnt rubber.

The deployment of my airbag.

Chapter Thirteen

I can’t breathe. I think I’m having a panic attack. Cars are slowly driving around me, while others are pulling over. People are starting to surround my car with various looks of concern on their faces.

“Miss, are you okay?” someone asks, knocking on my window.

“She’s pregnant,” someone else says.

“Yas!” Dru shouts, yanking my car door open.

“I think I’m okay,” I say.

“Maybe we shouldn’t move her?” someone else says as more people crowd around my car.

“We have to get her out of the intersection,” another person responds.

Dru unbuckles my seat belt and swoops me up in his arms. I start to cry. Or maybe I never stopped after hanging up with my dad.

Dru carries me to the sidewalk and sets me down on a city bench. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. “My baby …” There aren’t any physical bruises on me, but what about my baby? Is he okay?

Dru squats in front of me and puts a hand on my pregnant stomach. “The baby’s going to be okay. So are you.”

I suck in a shaky breath and nod. I have to believe him. If something happens to my baby, I’ll never forgive myself. The accident was my fault. I did this.

“M-my phone,” I stutter. “It’s in my car.”

“I’ll get it.” He brushes his hand down my cheek and heads back to the intersection.