Chapter 223

For Mom to make such a statement, I instantly knew that her demand for me to get an abortion had nothing to do with my health and future, and everything to do with her.

My suspicions were confirmed when she bit out. “You will not continue to embarrass us.” She looked at my Dad. “Go get the wheelchair. We’ll take her over to prenatal care ourselves.”

Dad immediately exited out into the hallway. He returned a moment later with a wheelchair.

Mom waved her hand at me. “Get up.”

“No,” I said.

Her brow lowered. “Get. Up,” she said, more forcefully.

My body immediately tensed to comply. In the past, I would have done anything to gain their favor. I worked so hard, day after day, to make them proud of me. But it had never been enough. Not really.

I could never compete with my perfect Luna sister, or my brother Dylan, who was the apple of their eye.

Maybe if I hadn’t been pregnant, I would have continued to obey any and all of their commands.

But I was pregnant. I had more than just myself to lookout for nowadays. Even if these were my parents, I couldn’t let them hurt my child.

So I matched her tone when I replied, “No.”

Mom looked at Dad and he moved at once. Gripping me by the arm, he yanked me out of the hospital bed. The heart monitor cables detached away from me, and the monitor itself made a horrible shrieking noise.

I kept hoping a nurse would rush into the room, but no one came.

I was too weak to fight back, though I struggled as best I could. Mostly, I was like a wet noodle in his hold as he dragged me to the wheelchair and forced me into it.

Lilith clawed inside of me, trying to come to the surface, but she was weak too, from having protected the baby so diligently. The best either of us could manage was a low growl.

“Stop that,” Mom sneered. “You’ll thank us when this is done.”

“You aren’t doing this for me,” I said.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You only care about your own reputation.”

Their daughter being unmated and pregnant was a bad look. They’d already made clear they were ashamed of me.

“Don’t act all high and mighty with me, missy,” Mom said. “I’m not the one who had unprotected sex at 18. You made your own mistakes, and now you have to handle them like an adult.”

“I’m keeping my baby,” I said.

Dad gripped the handles of my wheelchair and began to push. Mom went to open the door.

Neither of them seemed to be listening to me anymore.

“Stop!” I said. “You can’t do this!”

“We know what’s best for you,” Dad said.

“This isn’t best for me. It’s what’s best for you!”

He pushed me through the open doorway. I immediately looked to the policeman.

“Help! They can’t do this!” I cried out to him.

He stepped toward us, his brow crinkling in confusion. But then he stopped.

Why wasn’t he helping me?

“Aren’t these your parents?” he asked me.

“They are, but –”

“We only have her best interests in heart, officer. Please stand aside,” Dad said.

The officer looked between all of us. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but he actually seemed to be considering their words.

“They are taking me against my will!” I said desperately.

“I was told to protect you from Joseph and the other members of that club,” the policeman said. “No one said anything about your parents. This seems like a domestic issue.”

Even if it was a domestic issue, did that mean he was just going to stand to the side and let them do whatever they wanted? Wasn’t he supposed to protect me?

“Please,” I said, tears welling.

He seemed sympathetic, eyes creasing slightly, but not enough to get involved. “I can alert social services.”

“We’ll handle this, officer.” Mom moved in between the policeman and myself, enough for Dad to begin wheeling me away without any more interference. “We do appreciate your concern, but tough love is what is necessary now.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Surely this couldn’t be allowed? Even if the officer didn’t interfere, the doctors and nurses wouldn’t perform the procedure without my consent, right?

I didn’t know anymore. They’d already gotten me this far, wheeling me through the crowded hallways of the hospital. I cried and I begged for help from everyone we passed, but no one made a single move to help me.

Maybe the doctors wouldn’t care about me either. Maybe my parents would come up with some convincing lie, like they cared about me, and be able to talk the doctors and nurses into whatever they wanted.

I couldn’t let that happen.

If no one would help me, I had to help myself. Even weak as I was, I couldn’t just give up and let this happen.

So I reached down beside the wheelchair and gripped the push ring. I held on as hard as I could, slowing the chair.

Behind me, my father growled, “Let go of that.”

“No,” I said. “Never.”

He pushed harder, and my palms burned as the metal rubbed through my clenched fists. I hadn’t stopped him, but I had slowed him at least.

I couldn’t give up. I wouldn’t.

Maybe I could flip the chair. But how?

I gave up my hold on one of the push rings and gripped the other with both hands. With only one wheel blocked, the chair immediately swiveled to one side until I was facing the wall.

Dad leaned down and smacked at my hands. It stung, but I kept holding on.

“I said, let go!” he shouted.

“And I said, no!” I shouted right back.

By now, Mom had caught up to us in the hallway. “Cynthia, you little bitch. You will stop embarrassing us. The whole hospital is looking.”

“Then let me go back to my room,” I said. “You are the ones making a scene. I’m not getting an abortion!”

“You don’t have a choice,” Mom snapped. She reached down and grabbed my wrists with claw-like fingers. She ripped my hands away from the push ring. “You will do as we say, or so help me –”

“What the hell is going on here?”

That was Asher’s voice. My entire body immediately relaxed, a trigger response. Asher was my protector. I didn’t have to worry now. He wouldn’t let them hurt me or the baby.

Dad straightened. “Who the hell are you? Get out of our way.” He acted tough but I could hear the tremor in his voice. Dad wasn’t an alpha like Asher.

Right now, Asher was standing in the middle of the hallway before us, body rigid, and posture straight. His face was contorted with unabashed fury.

He looked all the Alpha that he was. Intimidating and beautiful.

Dad didn’t stand a chance against him.

When Asher spoke, his angry wolf was growling behind every word. “Step away from my mate.”

That gave my parents pause. Mom gasped, “Mate?”

Dad was quicker to recover. “If what you say is true, then you should stand aside. How dare you try to stop a procedure that could help Cynthia?”

“An abortion wouldn’t help me!” I shouted. “I keep telling you that, but you don’t listen. You only care how it would help you!”

Asher walked closer, confidence oozing off every long stride. As he neared my chair, Mom and Dad stepped back, cowering away from him.

“Are you alright?” he whispered to me, when he was close enough.

I shook my head.

He clutched my hand in his and squeezed. “You are safe now.”

I nodded, unable to find my words.

My parents, however, did not have that problem.

“This is outrageous,” Dad said.

Mom was much harsher. “You are ruining your whole life, Cynthia. It’s hopeless for you after this. Your life is over.”

“It’s not… I…”

Her eyes narrowed. “Soon you will see that having children is no picnic. You’re ending your life and for what? Some crying little brat.” She scoffed; it came out a bitter laugh. “I hope you have a difficult delivery. Then you’ll see.”

The words struck through me like knife to my heart.

But she wasn’t done.

“I hope you stand on death’s door. Then you’ll look back and see your mistakes.”