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My fingers grab it and I stare down at it. Pregnancy test.
Is this negative? Positive? How the fuck am I supposed to know what two lines mean? I glance around the bathroom and find the box in the trash can. Before I read it, I stop. I don’t want to know without Presley being with me. She would have wanted to tell me either way, I hope.
I throw the box back in the trash and put the test in my back pocket before heading downstairs. I could be a father. If not, then someday I will be. Hopefully. If Presley doesn’t want to have kids, we could adopt. Or figure out something else.
She would make a beautiful, perfect mom. That child would have a fucking angel as a mother.
But first I have to stop whatever she is thinking about doing before she ends up getting hurt.
When I get downstairs, I head straight into the tech room, which is Nerds’ domain. Sugar and Rage are both in there with him, and when I come in, they stop talking. “Did you find them?” I demand, staring at Nerds.
He nods. “Both of their phones stopped moving at Presley’s apartment an hour ago.”
“I just called Vance, and he’s meeting us there, so we need to head out now. Are you ready to do this?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. Let’s fucking end this shit for once and for all and stop my woman from trying to take matters into her own hands because if she is hurt, no one will be safe.”
Chapter Fourteen
Presley
Three Hours Earlier
Thereissomethingaboutdrinking that, in just a short forty-eight hours, showed me how powerful yet dangerous it can be. It is like floating on a cloud of numbness while also self-destructing. I can see why some people would use it to numb their pain. To mask their feelings. It almost feels like armor. When you don’t know how to build the wall yourself, you let the alcohol do it for you.
I’m laying on the bed. Jackson’s bed. I guess also my bed. My hands are shaking, and my body feels like it needs to be weighed down. Compression. I’ve heard about that before. I remember during my short time with a therapist they told me about it. Getting a weighted blanket. Having a safe space.
I never got that. I thought I did. But that is only because I thought Ben was my safe space. He isn’t. He is the opposite of safe. He is what has destroyed me. I thought he built me up, but he took me down.
I have to wonder how to keep going. How do you keep fighting after that? When you allowed yourself to blindly trust someone, how do you go on?
I went on by jumping to the next person. I just hopped right in and allowed myself to trust again. It was like I didn’t trust myself, so I have to find someone else to trust. Although, that doesn’t make any sense.
But now, this time, I have to make a change. There are still thoughts in my mind, the ones telling me I am a failure. That I could never be enough. I can never protect those I love. I failed my child, after all. But those thoughts don’t get to be in front of my mind anymore. Not now.
I trusted Ben.
I trusted Jackson. No—I do. I do trust Jackson. I don’t think he means harm. But he did hurt me. He cemented all my negative thoughts about how what happened was indeed my fault. But this time, I will do it differently. I can be stronger. I won’t let them win.
I won’t fail my child again. It can’t happen.
The phone buzzes next to me, and I look at it, seeing my ride is five minutes out.
Go time.
I get up and throw on some sneakers before heading downstairs. Running straight into Agnes.
“Hi, darling. What’s going on?”
I grin at her. I find my inner old self. The one who was prim and proper. The one who had to smile, greet, and hug the seething snakes of the world I lived in. The ones who I knew would have stabbed me in the back to get Ben for themselves.
“Hi! I hope everything went well at your house. I was going to go walk around the compound. My mind is just overwhelmed with everything going on.”
She gives me a sympathetic look. “I understand that. I don’t know everything that is going on since it’s club business, but I can see how stressed everyone is. Take your walk. Come get me if you want company, alright, darling?”
“Thank you, Agnes.”
I give her a hug and then walk out the door. My heart is pounding rapidly in my chest, but I keep moving. One foot in front of the other. I should feel bad for lying to her. She is Jackson’s mother. Someone who I respect and am coming to love.
