Page 100 of Embracing the Beat
I have no idea what I’m going to do, but one thing is certain—I can’t stay here. I won’t subject either myself or the little one I’m now responsible for to Weston Abbott or his nasty words.
My bag sits forgotten on the floor where I dropped it when I rushed to the bathroom, wholly intent on the pregnancy test. Reaching for it, I grab my phone out of the top and pull up my text thread with Mia.
MICHAELA: Mi?
MICHAELA: You’re probably busy, but I need you.
My phone rings less than a minute later.
“Kay, what’s wrong?”
The concern in her voice unleashes my sobs, and I tell her everything between the tears. From the awful tour, complete with the nightmarish last night, to the test still lying face down on the floor where West dropped it, and finish with a deep breath.
“I’m going to come there and rip his balls off and beat him with them,” she growls, surprising a watery laugh from me.
“You’re a nut.” I lean over to pick up the discarded test and tuck it carefully into my bag.
“Well, this nut loves you. You don’t need to stay there. Give me about fifteen minutes, and I’ll find you a flight out of Philadelphia. You’re coming to stay with me.”
“You’re not home!”
“I’m on my way,” she counters smugly. “And I don’t want you staying there. But if you really want to stay, I’m on your side. Whatever you want. Oh shit, I didn’t even ask, how are you feeling about the you-know?”
I chuckle at her over-the-top personality, once more thanking the universe that her asshole-ex and a tape I’d rather forget about gave me the best friend I’ve ever had.
“I’m okay. Not loving that I apparently don’t like meat anymore.”
“Lots of fresh veggies and fruits in California,” she sing-songs.
“I know.”
“So, am I booking you a flight? Or hiring a hit man?”
“You don’t need to pay for my flight, Mi.”
“The hit man then?” She sounds a little too excited about that option.
“I can get myself to California,” I explain.
“Nonsense. Pack your bags, baby. Evie will book you a ticket and send you the info.”
I blow out a breath, exhaustion crashing over me as the entire day catches up.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I groan, not sure how much I love that word right now, but I’ll still take Mia’s certainty. Her love. Her friendship.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. Now, go. I want you out of there before you have to see douche bag again.”
“Pretty sure I’ll have to before I leave.” My stomach cramps at the thought.
“Let’s hope not,” she huffs. “Okay, okay, go pack. I’ll text you soon.”
Grabbing my bag, I stand with a groan, the muscles in my legs protesting after spending so much time on the floor. I unlock the door, opening it slowly as I listen for West. Nothing. The silence is unnerving, and I hold my breath, straining to hear anything. West’s bedroom door is open on the left, but my room is to the right.
