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“I’m not here as a representative of the Crowley family, Jams, I swear.” Ash holds up her hands. “I come in peace.”
“Let her in,” I call out.
Jamila steps aside and closes the door behind her. Ash sits beside me on the couch, looking concerned, and I lean in to hug her tightly. I breathe deep, keeping the tears at bay. “You know,” I say stupidly. The relief in my stomach is painful. Like I want to puke, I’m so happy.
“Yeah, I know.” Her voice is gentle. “I’m so sorry, Keels.”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but you know, people say that anyway.”
Ash hugs me tighter. “I do know.”
Jamila busies herself in the kitchen making coffee for Ash while I sit back and get myself together. Once we’re all seated, Ash takes a deep breath, looking supremely worried. “Everyone’s talking about it,” she says, glancing at my belly. “Everyone in the inner circle, anyway. Carson, Nolan, their mother. Even Finn’s been getting in on the action. Liam’s nowhere to be seen, obviously, but still. They are profoundly shaken by the idea that a woman wouldn’t be dying to join the Crowley family.” She rolls her eyes at that last bit.
“Typical,” Jamila says. “Shouldn’t we all be down on our knees begging the big, strong alpha mobsters to put babies in our bellies?”
“Pretty much.” Ash puts a hand on my knee. “What are you thinking, Keels? I mean, Nolan wants to be in that baby’s life. I thought things were looking good between you two.”
I stare at the floor. How can I make her understand? She’s a part of the inside already, and she clearly doesn’t think it’s all that bad.
But it’s more than the Crowley family. It’s more than me and Nolan. If I’m going to make Ash understand, then she needs to know something about me that I’ve never told anyone before.
My biggest shame. The one secret I’ve kept all these years, shoved down deep into my guts, hidden away.
“You know how I hate my parents?” I glance at Ash then Jamila. Both are nodding. “How much have I told you about them?”
“Not a lot,” Ash says, looking at Jamila for confirmation. “You say they were abusive. Kind of assholes. You left the first second you could. But that’s more or less it.”
“That’s all I know too,” Jamila adds.
I draw in a breath and let it out. “I was a mistake,” I say. Both girls stay silent. I clear my throat, forcing myself not to cry, before I can carry on. “My parents made sure I knew it. For as far back as I can remember, both my mother and my father were resentful of me. They didn’t want kids, and they only ended up together because my mom got knocked up. I don’t really know the details about how it happened, but I was never supposed to be born. It wasn’t just that they were shitty people, it was that they hated me for existing. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, they never showed me love, never showed me any sort of affection. It was like I committed the sin of being alive, and they were going to make sure I was punished for it. Once, when I was thirteen and having a rough week, my mother told me to my face that she wished she’d had an abortion.” I stop talking, blinking fast to stop the tears from flowing.
“Oh, sweetie,” Ash says, squeezing my knee. “I am so, so sorry. That’s so fucked up.”
“That’s terrible,” Jamila says, hand over her mouth. “Truly horrible. How could a mother say something so fucked up?”
“That was just my life growing up. My parents resented me and weren’t shy about letting me know. Sometimes they went out of their way to rub it in. Then I left, came here, tried to make my own life, but here I am, pregnant by a guy I barely know, and I’m so afraid that if I make the wrong decision then I’m going to end up treating my baby the same way my parents treated me.”
I finally break down. I cry, leaning into Ash, who holds me tight and strokes my hair. She speaks calming words that I only half understand. I keep thinking about my parents, the way they looked at me with pure loathing in their eyes, the disdain with which they treated me, the disregard, the bullying. The worst part is, ever since I left, they haven’t tried to contact me, not one single time, like they’re happy I ran away from home at nineteen. Like they don’t give a damn if I’m still alive.
“Sweetie, you’re not going to be your parents,” Ash says once I’m calmed down.
Jamila joins us on the couch. “Seriously, Keely. Your parents sound like psychopathic pricks. There’s no way you’ll be like that.”
“I know,” I say, wiping my face. “It’s more that I’m afraid getting involved with Nolan will end up that way. I want to be a decent parent, I want to love this kid, and I’m terrified that I won’t be able to do it if I’m worrying about the Crowley family all the time. Not to mention married to a man that I barely know. I don’t want any resentment. I’mterrifiedof feeling that way.”
“You don’t have to be that way,” Ash says, shaking her head and holding my hands. “You can be better.”
“You already are better,” Jamila adds. “You don’t need the Crowley family if you don’t want them.”
Ash glances at Jamila but doesn’t contradict her. “It’s not an easy decision,” she says instead. “All I can say is, Nolan wants to talk to you. He wants to explain himself.”
I shiver, pulling my hands away. “He told you that?”
“No, but Carson did. I told my husband that I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. He’ll listen, I’ve got him wrapped around my finger.” She tries a smile, but the joke’s too sad to be funny right now. “I’m only telling you what I know, and you can make up your mind.”
I stand, moving away from the couch. “If I go see Nolan, won’t he just kidnap me? Isn’t that something mafia guys do? Lock me in a bedroom and force me to have his baby there?”
“You read too much,” Ash says, laughing. “He’d never do that.” She pauses, frowning. “Well, okay, he probably would, but he’d never get away with it.”
