Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I can’t believe I ever thought this guy could be the one. When we would lie in bed, he made me feel special. It was all fake. He’s all fake. And now, I’m fucked. Literally.
“One, that bed you slept in wasn’t mine. It was a friend of mine’s who’s been out of the country.” He barks out a humorless laugh. “You couldn’t have possibly thought I was going to put a ring on your finger and introduce you to my family.” He sneers. “And no, she doesn’t know, nor will she ever.”
“Well, maybe she should know.” I straighten my spine and cross my arms over my chest, tilting my chin up toward the ceiling. “Maybe she should know that you not only slept with a trailer trash bartender, but you got her pregnant.”
Freeman freezes in his place, his eyes dropping to my belly. “You’re lying.”
“I’m pregnant.” I found out this morning and was planning to tell him. Then I found out he’s in a relationship with another woman, whom he’s now engaged to.
He cuts across the small space and pins me against the wall, his hand slamming against the wall next to my head “If this is true, you’re getting an abortion,” he says slowly.
“Like hell,” I spit. “My body, my baby.”
“Sophia, do. Not. Fuck. With. Me.” He grabs ahold of my ponytail and yanks my head back, so I’m forced to look into his eyes. I flinch at the bite of pain but refuse to cower to him. “I’ve worked too hard for your slutty ass to fuck up my plans.”
“I’m keeping the baby,” I repeat, looking him right in his cold gaze. “But if you don’t want to be the father, then you don’t have to be.” Growing up, my dad was like a broken record, telling me how he wanted my mom to have an abortion. As far back as I can remember, I’ve felt like a mistake and I refuse to let this baby growing in me ever feel the same way.
“Fuck!” he booms, punching his fist through the wall. The drywall crumbles on impact. He pulls back, but his eyes never leave mine. “I came here looking to get laid, but you just had to go and complicate shit.”
He closes his eyes and his fingers drag through his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. When he reopens them, his features are cold, calculated. “You tell anyone, and I mean anyone, about this baby, and I’ll destroy you and your family. That secretarial position your mom just got at Klein and Eisenhower—my father plays golf with them. One word from me that she’s a recovering addict and she’ll be unemployed.”
My body stiffens at his threat. My mom is finally at a job that makes her happy. A job that doesn’t involve her flinging fried food. How the hell does he know about that? I never told him… That must mean he looked into me—into my family. The thought makes my stomach roil.
“And your uncle Oliver who just got that promotion at the bank… One call and he’ll be gone.” Oh my God… Fear crawls up my esophagus, burning like acid.
Freeman steps toward me and grabs my chin, jerking my face up to look at him. “If anyone ever finds out we were together, that I share DNA with that baby, I will fucking destroy you. I’ll have nothing left to lose and I will come after you. And after I’m done doing that, I will take great pleasure in ripping that baby from your arms, so you never see it again. My family has connections everywhere, and I will use every single one in my power to see to it that if my life implodes, yours does too. It’s best you remember that.” He backs up and pulls a couple hundred-dollar bills from his money clip and drops them on the floor in front of me. “I suggest you get that abortion, Sophia, but if you’re stupid and don’t, you better make damn sure no one ever links me to you or that baby.” He walks out, and I run to the closest trash can, vomiting everything in my stomach. Then I vomit once more.
Once I’m almost positive my stomach is empty, I go back out to the bar. My hands are shaking and I’m lightheaded, but I’m still in the middle of my shift.
“Miss, I need another beer,” a guy calls out. “Miss.”
“I heard you,” I snap, then quickly smile, not wanting to piss him off. I need the money now more than ever.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur, and when the club is closed and the bar is clean, I head home. I’m exhausted and my heart is aching. All I want to do is shower the night off and get some sleep.