Second(51)

By: Chantal Fernando



strong. Nothing touches him. I have no idea how he would

handle me if I broke down right now, which I’m seriously close

to doing.

“No, you thought running was going to solve your problems.

You thought lying was going to solve your problems.

You’re lucky my dipshit brother mentioned that you left, and

that you were pregnant, or I wouldn’t even know I was going to

have a fuckin’ kid!” he yells, losing his composure.

Talk about kicking me when I’m down.

“I really don’t need your shit right now,” I mutter, looking

down at the floor, feeling like the worst person in the world.

Because he’s right, I probably wouldn’t have told him. I can’t

say what I would have done.

“You would have gone on, wouldn’t you? Your whole life

without telling me,” he says in disbelief. “Don’t you think I

deserved to have heard this from you?”

I think about lying, but in the end I don’t. I deserve his

judgment over this. “Do you really think you could give this

kid a good life?”

Wrong thing to say, but I needed to say it because that was

my rationalization for leaving without a word. His eyes turn

cold and hard. “I guess you’re going to find out now, aren’t you?”

“How do you know this kid is even yours?” I ask, lifting my

chin up. Why am I poking the dragon? I have no idea.

“I know because the condom broke that night, and you

hadn’t had sex with Eric in a while,” he says, staring straight at

me. “Or anyone else.”

“The condom broke?” I gape, my eyes flaring.

Well, that explains things doesn’t it?

And who is he? The sex police? I hadn’t had sex with anyone

else, but how did he know that?

He watches me under his lashes but ignores my comment.

“Grab your shit, Faye. You have five minutes or we leave

without it,” he says, sitting down on the bed. I grit my teeth

but do as he says, taking my few belongings and packing them

back in my bag with efficient ease.

“I’m ready,” I say, avoiding eye contact. He takes the bag

from me and hikes it on his shoulder, then holds the door open.

I walk out and wait for him to lead me to his car. He walks

down toward the parking lot, and I follow, a few steps behind.

“What about my car? It has some of my stuff in it,” I ask

him.

“Rake will drive it home,” he says as he opens the door to a

black four-wheel drive. He grips my hips and lifts me up onto

the seat. My breath hitches at the contact and flashes of our

night together enter my mind.

Him braced above me as he grinds into me, sweat dripping

down his body.

Me on all fours in front of him, his fingers digging into my hips

as he thrusts.

“Faye,” he says, snapping me out of it.

“Huh?”

“What were you just thinking about?” he asks, his voice a

low rumble.

“Oh, nothing,” I mutter embarrassment coloring my

cheeks.

“I’ll bet. I said Rake will handle your car, so don’t worry

about it.”

“Rake?” I ask, my brows furrowing in confusion. I watch as

Dex lifts his head toward the side of the building. I follow his

line of sight and see a man leaning against the wall, smoking a

cigarette. He walks over and stands next to Dex.

“So this is what the fuss is all about,” the man named Rake

says, checking me out and not being subtle about it.

“I’m Rake,” he says, grinning at me. He’s a good-looking

man. Blond hair, curling around his face, green eyes, and a

panty-dropping smile. He has a lip ring and an eyebrow ring—

both suit him perfectly.

“Faye,” I say, managing a small smile.

“I have to drive your car home,” he says. “You owe me,

Faye.” Another grin, and then he’s off.

Dex sends Rake a look I can’t decipher, then turns to me.

“You okay?” he asks, scanning my face. His expression softens

as he looks over me.

“Yeah. Thanks for asking,” I tell him, clearing my throat.

He grunts in reply, closing the door and heading to the other

side. When he pulls out of the parking lot, he turns to me.

“You know, I thought you were one of the good ones. I

never thought you would do something like this, trying to

keep me in the dark about my own kid.”

With that parting shot, which I feel deep in my bones, he

drives me back home.

Back to the place I’m trying to escape.

Back to where my child will have no future.

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