Page 233 of Credence


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Finally, he looks at me, shaking his head.

“No?” I say. “No, what? Talk. I know you know how! Is the baby yours?”

Just communicate. Do something! But he keeps his mouth closed, and I’ve had enough.

Sliding over, I punch the brake, stalling the truck, and he swerves the wheel as it comes to a stop. I hop out, seeing him follow.

He stops me at the front of the car, coming in for me.

But I back away. “No,” I tell him. No kissing. No holding. “Speak. Right now. Is it yours? Did you know?”

He draws in quick, shallow breaths, staring at me, speechless. If he didn’t know, then he could shake his head, and I wouldn’t hate him. We could go from there.

If he knew, maybe he kept it quiet because he knew he’d be up on the mountain all winter, and maybe he didn’t anticipate we’d fall in love. Maybe he thought he could run from this like he runs from everything.

Just talk to me.

His beautiful green gaze falls to the space between us, and there’s nothing he wants to say to me.

The whir of an engine grows louder, and I know it’s Noah on his way home.

He pulls up next to us, planting his shoes on the ground. “Hey, what’s going on?”

I give Kaleb four more seconds, waiting for him to do or say anything.

When he doesn’t, I climb on the bike behind Noah and wrap my arms around him.

“Let’s go.” I bury my head in his back. “Hurry.”

We speed off, and for the first time, Kaleb doesn’t pull me back to him.

Tiernan

I run up the stairs of the deck, breezing past my uncle and all the commotion in the shop as I hear the truck tires grind the gravel behind me. I pick up my pace.

Noah made good on his threat to put me on the website and scheduled an impromptu photoshoot with the motorcycles. I won’t take good pictures today, but at least it keeps me away from Kaleb.

I wipe the tear from my face.

“What’s wrong?” I hear Jake ask.

“I don’t know,” Noah tells him as I hurry for the front door. “She ran away from Kaleb.”

“Tiernan!” my uncle shouts.

“Let’s just do this,” I call out, swinging open the door. Where’s the photographer?

An SUV and a Jeep sit parked in the driveway, and I know they’re setting up lighting and such in the garage, but I should take a moment to compose myself.

I need to get in my room—my room—and lock the goddamn door for a few minutes.

Why was he in such a hurry to toss my birth control this morning? He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t hesitate. It was like a lightbulb went on and the solution to a problem he’d been facing finally occurred to him.

I stalk through the living room, but a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me around. I jerk out of Kaleb’s hold, glaring at him through watery eyes.

“Kaleb, stop,” his father orders, entering the house.

Noah follows. “What happened with you two?”

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