TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (44 page)

“Don’t pressure her, Hal,” says Charlie’s mother.
 
“Let her be on her way.”

“I’m merely asking if she’d like an opportunity to speak with us, face-to-face, without the lawyers getting in the way.”
 
He smiles at me, and it’s almost believable.
 
Almost.
 
“Sometimes it’s better when people come to their own agreements outside of the courts.
 
It’s friendlier.
 
Less stressful.
 
Everyone can walk away happy.”

I shake my head at him, while Mick pulls on my arm.
 
I’m not ready to go yet, so I stand firm.

“Listen, Mr. Curtis, I know you’re a lawyer.
 
I know you know how this works.
 
I’m not supposed to be talking to you, I’m pretty sure, and I don’t think you’re supposed to be talking to me either.
 
I didn’t come here to discuss this with any of you.
 
I just came here to bring Charlie and his car back, even though he showed up at my work to harass me, even though he destroyed my boyfriend’s car to the tune of several thousands of dollars of damage, even though he thinks it’s okay to drug a girl, rape her, video tape it, and then call her a whore.”
 
I look down at my belly meaningfully and then back up at Charlie’s parents.
 
Tears sting my eyes, but I keep going. “Before your son did all this to me, I had plans.
 
Big
plans.
 
College, a career, a family when I was married.
 
I was a virgin.”
 
I cock my head, lost in the sarcasm and the pain.
 
“Was that in the court papers?
 
It should have been.
 
He took that from me.
 
He took my pride too.
 
And my sense of self-worth.
 
Is
that
in the papers?
 
Probably not.
 
But I’m not going to keep it to myself if I’m ever in front of a jury, I can tell you that much.
 
And don’t think for one second that you’re going to buy me off or threaten me or do anything else that will get me to forget what he did and not go after him to make him pay for it.
 
Because you know what?
 
I have a responsibility.
 
I have a responsibility to my child
and
I have to make sure he’s never in a position to do this to another girl.
 
Another
stupid
girl who believes his lies and his … his …
bullshit
.”
 
I walk over to the car and gesture to the back seat.
 
“Get in, Mick.
 
I can’t fit back there.”

I’m waiting for him to move my seat back into position from his spot in the back seat when I feel something touch my arm.
 
I look up to see Charlie’s mom there.
 
She’s crying.

“I’m so sorry,” she says in a soft voice.
 
“I want you to know, we didn’t raise him to be this way.”

I’m angry at her for apologizing, for not taking responsibility.
 
Her apology actually hurts me, as if simple words can erase what happened.
 
“Well, you didn’t raise him
not
to, did you?”
 
I jerk my arm away from her and get into the car.
 
“Drive,” I say to Teagan.

She’s already gotten the car started and has the gear shift in reverse.
 
“Yes, ma’am,” she says, glee in her voice.
 
As she backs down the driveway looking over her shoulder, she mumbles, “Do not fuck with the pregnant lady, people. She is fit to be tied and she’s on a roll.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT MY weekend couldn’t get any crappier, Mick comes home with a newspaper.
 
Apparently, when you sue the son of a wealthy power-couple in our town, it makes headlines.
 
He leaves me to my misery, disappearing into the backyard to finish some yard work Teagan conned him into doing.

I groan as Teagan reads the story aloud to me and Quin.

“Please, enough, already,” I say, halting her after the opening paragraph. “I’ve heard enough.”

“Hey, this stuff is great,” she says, grinning from ear to ear, scanning the rest of the article.
 
“He’s coming off as a real douche canoe.”

“That’s because he is the captain of the douche canoe fleet,” says Quin.

“Douche canoe, douche canoe, I’m going in a douche canoe.
 
Down a river, down a river, down a lake, down a ocean…”
 
Jersey, Quin’s little brother, is playing with action figures on the living room floor near her feet while he sings his made-up song.

Quin rolls her eyes.
 
“Stop saying that word.”
 
She gestures to something on the floor.
 
“Go pull Han Solo’s head off, would ya?
 
He’s looking at me funny.
 
I don’t like it.”

Jersey grabs the action figure and complies, ripping the poor guy’s head off like he’s done it a thousand times. Then he launches the tiny bit of plastic across the room.
 
It bounces off the wall and into a pile of magazines on the floor.

“He’s doing pretty well,” I say, trying to get my mind off that stupid article by commenting on Jersey’s bandages.
 
“His arm seems to be moving okay and the bandages are staying clean for a change.”
 
Apparently burn injuries are very … gooey. I’m happy to see he’s out of that phase for my stomach’s sake.

“Yeah, Jersey manages to play pretty much any game he wants, regardless of the fact that he still has to wear these bandages and the sling on his arm.”
 
Quin nudges him with her foot.
 
“Punk is up my parents’ assholes all day, so I thought I’d give them a break.”

He turns around and glares at her.
 
“I’m not up in anybody’s asshole.
 
There’s poop up in there, not people.
 
Not kids, just poop.
 
And sometimes Legos.
 
Some people have legos in their butts.”

Quin frowns at him.
 
“Legos?”

“Or racecars,” Teagan mumbles.

I can’t help but laugh.
 
I try to hide my amusement behind the paper I yank out of Teagan’s hands, but I’m too quickly distracted by the headlines to bother.

Scanning the article, I pick out words and phrases that make my blood start to boil.
 
I have to rub my belly when it goes hard and crampy.
 
Stupid reporters.
 
The journalist doesn’t get very far into her ‘reporting’ before she starts accusing me of being a gold digger looking for a payoff of some sort.
 
I throw the paper down on the coffee table and pick up my phone.

“Who are you calling?” Quin asks.
 
“Colin?
 
Gonna tell him to go beat up the editor of the paper?”

“Shut up,” I say.
 
“I didn’t tell him to beat up anybody.”
 
I wait for Natalie’s voicemail to come on.

“Why not?
 
You should sic his ass on Randy, too.
 
Him and Charlie both need a good whoopin’.”
 
Quin sighs.
 
“I just wish I could have been there to see Colin school that boy.
 
That must have been epic.”

“It was,” says Teagan.
 
She holds out a plate of several dark brown somethings.
 
“Cookie?”

I wave it away, pretending I’m too busy or too pregnant or too
anything
to indulge.

Quin’s eyes go wide with fear as the plate comes in her direction.

“Cookie?” Teagan asks.

“No, not me.
 
I just ate a buffalo, so I’m full.
 
Totally full.”
 
Quin waves her hands in front of her as if warding off something evil.

“You’re a dick,” Teagan says.

“I want a cookie!” Jersey says.

Quin grins evilly.
 
“Go ahead, dude.
 
Eat ‘em up.”

Teagan gives her the stink-eye as she holds the plate closer to Quin’s little brother.

Jersey takes two, a big smile from ear to ear lighting up his face.
 
“Thanks, Tea-Tea!”

“You’re welcome, J-man.”
 
She frowns at me and Quin.
 
“At least someone around here appreciates my cooking.”

Natalie’s voicemail comes on and I start talking.
 
Jersey lifts the cookie to his mouth and takes a bite.

“Natalie, this is Alissa.
 
Um, have you seen the newspaper?
 
There’s a big article about the lawsuit on the front page.
 
You should read it.
 
And also, Charlie came to see me today and he ended up getting hurt over it and we brought him to his house and … well, call me.”

I hang up the phone and put it on the table, rubbing my stomach.
 
The baby is stretching herself something awful, making me wish she’d just go to sleep.
 
It’s terribly uncomfortable to have her turning my belly into this weird, oblong shape.

Jersey catches my attention doing some exaggerated grimacing.
 
His face twists around in several directions before the cookie starts reversing out of his mouth.
 
“Cack … bleck ..,” he says as his tongue works to move the crumbs past his lips.
 
They dribble with saliva down his chin and onto his shirt. “Caca doodie.
 
Poo poo caca pee pee.”
 
He looks at Quin, angry.
 
“Why did you say that was a cookie, sister?”
 
He slaps her knee, angry.

She’s laughing too hard to answer.
 
She just holds out her hands to protect herself in case Jersey decides to go after her more seriously.

“It
is
a cookie, you little twerp,” Teagan says.
 
She leans over and yanks the rest of the cookie out of his hand.
 
“It’s made with molasses for your information. It takes a very refined palate to appreciate this kind of food.”

She gets up and goes into the kitchen, but I’m pretty sure she hears Jersey’s response anyway.
 
“How come she puts asses in her cookies?
 
Asses don’t taste that good to me.”
 
He uses one of his action figures to wipe his mouth out. Then he wipes the action figure on the rug.
 
The second cookie he took from her plate goes flying across the room to rest on the floor with Han Solo’s head.

I’m laughing so hard I feel a pop in my crotch and then I pee myself.
 
I totally pee myself right there on the couch.

I struggle to stand as Quin points and laughs at me, probably way too entertained by my penguin-like struggles. She doesn’t even know the worst of it yet.
 
She’s probably going to pee her pants too when she finds out what I’ve done.

“Shut up!” I say, snorting and laughing. I’ve lost it. “I just peed on myself.
 
I totally just wet my pants.”

She’s gripping her stomach, gasping for air as Jersey points to my crotch and starts singing.

“You peed your paaaants, you peed your paaaants, you peed your paaaaants…”

I rest my hand on my belly as it goes hard as a rock.
 
My laughter quickly peters out when a rush of warm liquid streams down my inner thighs.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper, looking down.

Quin’s still laughing.
 
“What?
 
You pee again?
 
Or did you shit yourself this time?”

I look up at her, stark fear taking over.
 
“No.
 
I think my water just broke.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

QUIN JUMPS TO HER FEET.
 
“Teeegaaaaan!
 
Call nine one one!
 
Call nine one one!”

I wave at her, annoyed at her spaziness.
 
“No, you dope, don’t tell her to do that.”

More warm stuff runs down my legs.
 
“Tell her to get a towel.”
 
I can’t believe how calm I am.
 
I wasn’t ready for having a baby.
 
I’ve just come to accept the fact that I’m pregnant, for poop’s sake.
 
I haven’t even been to Lamaze yet.
 
I don’t have a birth partner, even.

Even so, I feel like I can do this.
 
Everything is going to be okay, as long as I can get to the hospital on time.
 
The nurses do everything, right?
 
All I have to do is lie there and breathe.
 
People have babies all the time.
 
Some women squat out in a field and then go back to work, right?
 
It’s no big deal.
 
I can do this.
 
I can do this.
 
I can do this.

“Towels!
 
Hot towels and boiling water!” Quin yells, running out of the room.

Jersey stares at me from the floor.
 
“You peed your paaants.” He says it more softly this time with a hint of nervousness added to his voice.

“Actually, sweetie, I didn’t pee my pants.
 
I’m going to have a baby.
 
Would you go to the bathroom and get me a towel please?”

“Uh-huh.” He walks out of the room at a fast clip, an action figure in each hand.
 
His corduroys sound like they’re kicking up enough friction to start a fire.

Teagan shows up in the entrance to the room. “Is she serious?
 
Is the baby coming?”