Gritting my teeth, I storm after her and, as I walk through the gate I call, “Buttercup!”
Clark freezes in her stride, her shoulders tense, and I take a shuddered breath and slower my pace and walk over to her, hoping she doesn’t see the tension on me like she most likely heard in my voice.
She doesn’t turn around, instead she lies, “I have schoolwork…”
She’s due to graduate soon, she doesn’t have schoolwork.
“I just want to talk, Clark,” I rasp full of heartbreak, “I miss my friend.”
She sniffles, and I flinch, hating that I’ve caused this, and I round her before gently putting two fingers underneath her chin and lifting as I bend a little at the knees locking lock eyes.
The pain and horror in her beautiful dark green eyes fucking breaks me, and it takes everything not to look away.
“Please, buttercup, speak to me,” I whisper, and a few tears fall as her chin wobbles, and she shakes her head.
I don’t stop to think, I cup the back of her head and pull her into me and instead of shoving me away she grips my cut and lets out a pained sob, fucking breaking me. I wrap my arms around her, placing my lips against her head as a thousandfucking tingles rush through my body like it always does when I touch her. I ignore the feeling and hold her tighter.
“You’re killing me here, buttercup,” I choke as I squeeze her to me and she hiccups as I whisper, “I know what happened was, well, it was fucking bad, I know it’s terrifying and hurtful, I know you need space to come to terms about what happened because fuck. I need time too, especially knowing if you hadn’t finished my drink I would be dead right now but I just, I fucking miss my friend, buttercup…” I pull back slightly and I cup her cheeks with both my hands and gently rub my thumbs along her soft skin, wiping away the tears and I plead, “Talk to me, please…”
Her chin wobbles as more tears spill before she blows my world up and chokes, “I’m pregnant.”
Fuck.
Breathing becomes difficult, and I grip her cheeks a little tighter as the panic hits.
Pregnant, fucking pregnant, a permanent reminder that I raped her…
“Fuck,” I choke, and she sobs, “I don’t know what to do, Trick, what do we do?” and I pull her back into my body, holding her tightly as she sobs her heart out just as Crash walks through the gate and eyes us with concern.
I allow him to see my emotions, my fear, and my eyes blur with unshed tears, causing him to rush over to us, but he halts when I choke, “Brother, go get Belle,” and he furrows his brows, but shock and pure terror etch his features when I say, “She’s pregnant…”
***
I spin my phone in my hand two hours later as I look up at the night sky, the stars shining, but I feel nothing but fucking numb.
Pregnant, she’s pregnant.
After Belle rushed out being the crutch for her friend like she always is, we guided Clark to her brother's home two doors down from mine.
Mom’s tried calling, Dad, Spike, Crash, I just…
Pregnant, meaning she is now at even more fucking risk from the Chargers because not only is she the daughter of the current secretary of the club, but she’s also the sister of the soon-to-be secretary and now pregnant with the soon-to-be VP’s child.
I sniff hard, and I bring up Cage’s burner number as my hand trembles before pressing on it and putting the phone to my ear.
It rings several times before he answers, “What the fuck? I thought I told you guys to message before calling so that my phone isn’t found!”
A few tears fall, and I choke, “Bellamy…”
“Scar, keep an eye out,” Cage demands before he says, “Miles, talk to me, what’s happened?”
I shake my head as a sob leaves me, and I drop my head, my body trembling.
“Miles, you’re worrying me, talk to me,” he says quietly, and I choke, “She’s pregnant…”
“Who brother? Who is pregnant?” he asks gently, a hint of confusion lacing in his tone, and I grip my hair tightly.
“Clark,” I gasp, “Clark is pregnant.”
