Chapter 35

Bile rose in my throat. Hearing Joseph laugh about Aimee’s trauma made my entire stomach shift and churn.

I swallowed it down and snapped, “Don’t talk about her like that!”

With one glance at me, he stifled his laughter. “Hey, don’t be sick in my car.”

If I was sick in his car, he’d deserve it.

“I shouldn’t need to remind you that I am also pregnant. The way you talk about Aimee…”

He paled a little. “No, no. You and she are way different.”

“How?”

“She made bad choices, Cynthia.”

“So did I,” I mumbled.

He ignored me. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut. Everyone laughs about it, but I shouldn’t.”

Everyone laughs about it? That was hardly an excuse.

“I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I think I’m just nervous since your meeting my mom and dad. I didn’t want to say anything, but I guess my nerves are making me say stupid things.”

I frowned at him, and he drove on in silence for a while.

When the immediate danger of my nausea passed, I could more clearly feel the heavy weight of my heart. With Joseph’s words and actions, this was seeming like a worse and worse idea.

But we were almost there. I couldn’t back out now. Besides, I doubted Joseph would turn around even if I asked him.

I clutched my phone tighter, thinking of Asher. I wish I could call him. He said he would come and get me.

But no. Even if Joseph was a jerk, that didn’t mean his parents would be. They were going to be grandparents. I had to form a relationship with them for the sake of my child.

When we reached their house, Joseph parked in the driveway and rushed toward the front door without waiting for me. I followed behind him, slower.

When I joined him on the front porch, he had already knocked. The house was big and beautiful with green shutters and a white picket fence. Lace curtains hung in every window.

The front door popped open and an older couple were standing there. Joseph was the mirror of his father, though his father had lost his hair.

“Joseph!”

Both of his parents smiled wide as they welcomed and hugged their son.

Their faces dropped when they looked at me.

“Mom. Dad.” Joseph motioned toward me. “This is Cynthia.”

“Hello,” I said, trying to ignore their ice-cold stares. “Nice to meet you.”

“Come in,” Joseph’s father said, stepping back from the door. His mother moved slower, never breaking her glare from me.

Joseph entered immediately.

Every one of my nerves twitched, encouraging me to run away.

You can do this, I said to myself and stepped into the house.

His parents led us into a living room that looked like a museum, with expensive paintings on the wall and vases behind glass cases on either side of an over-large television.

I sat on a floral antique sofa that looked pretty but was hard as a rock. Joseph perched on the very edge beside me, as far away from me as he could on the same piece of furniture.

All three pairs of eyes looked at me.

“So.” His mother’s gaze was the sharpest, as piercing as the end of a spear. “This is the girl you got pregnant, Joseph.”

“Mom,” Joseph said with no heat.

“Tell me, girl,” his mother said. “How many pregnancies have you had before?”

My heart sunk down to the hardwood floorboards under my feet.

I glanced at the closed front door, but it was much too far. I couldn’t run now.

I inhaled slowly. Maybe she was just concerned for her son. If I got through this first, horrible round of questioning, maybe she would accept me and things would go smoother.

“I’ve never been pregnant before,” I said.

Joseph’s father laughed. “See, dear? Nothing to worry about.”

“Just because this is her first does not mean she is innocent,” his mother said to him. To me, she snapped, “What exactly do you expect from our son?”

I glanced at Joseph, but his mouth was shut tight.

“We talked about co-parenting,” I said.

His father laughed again, louder. It boomed through the quiet room.

“Dear,” he said, when he’d settled down. “Why don’t you go check on how dinner is doing?”

Joseph’s mother stood and went to the kitchen without a word otherwise.

Joseph’s dad focused his attention on his son. “Is this a joke, Joey? I’ve had a good laugh, but you better come clean before you give your mother an ulcer.”

Joseph winced. “It’s no joke, Dad. Sorry.”

His dad’s good humor vanished like a switch had been flipped. “We talked about this. How many times did I tell you? Don’t fuck around with poor girls.”

Embarrassment heated my cheeks.

“You know how it is,” Joseph said, shrugging.

Neither of them acknowledged my existence.

“I know exactly how it is,” his dad said, voice rising. “That’s exactly why I said to at least use a damn condom!”

Joseph’s father was an Alpha, and his commanding voice made me sink down into the sofa, hoping the hard fabric would swallow me.

I had to get out of this room. I felt like I was suffocating.

Only when I abruptly stood, did they finally look at me.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I said quickly.

Joseph told me where it was, and I forced myself not to run.

In the bathroom, I locked the door behind me. Phone in my shaky hands, I dialed Asher.

“Give me the address,” he said on the first ring. I was used to his abrupt non-greetings by now.

Hearing his voice gave me so much comfort, that a sob broke through my careful self-composure. “Asher.”

“Address, Cynthia.”

I told him. Immediately, I heard a door slam through the line and the sound of soft panting. Was he… running?

“Are you safe?” he asked.

“I don’t think they’ll hurt me,” I whispered into the phone, afraid they’d overhear. When I heard the sound of a car starting, I said, “Asher, wait.”

Was I overreacting? They hadn’t hurt me. And just because they were cruel to me, didn’t mean they wouldn’t want to be a part of the baby’s life.

Even though this hurt, didn’t I owe it to my child to keep trying?

Lots of women didn’t like their partner’s parents.

“Don’t come here,” I decided. “I’m okay. I… only wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“Cynthia.”

I closed my eyes at how he said my name, so deep and rumbly. He was so protective of me. It warmed me inside and out.

“This must be a stressful situation for them,” I said.

“That’s no excuse,” Asher said valiantly. He didn’t even know what happened.

I drew strength from him. I could get through this, knowing he was waiting on the other side. “I’ll call you when it’s over, okay?”

“Don’t you dare hang up this phone,” he said. Behind him, the engine revved.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door.

I couldn’t help it, I gasped.

Through the phone, Asher growled.

“Cynthia?” Joseph called through the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I’ll be right there,” I replied to him. Softly, to Asher, I whispered, “Stay away, Asher. I have to go.”

“My parents don’t like to wait, Cynthia,” Joseph said.

I hung up the phone and opened the door.

Dinner was a full turkey with all the fixings. I had only begun to fill my plate, when Joseph’s mom looked at me and said, “I know what you are, Cynthia. And what you intend to do.”

This time, neither Joseph nor his dad tried to intervene. They both just continued to dish out carrots and mashed potatoes.

Joseph avoided glancing at me. His father shot me a glare that had me drop the gravy dish back onto the table.

“You think you can trap my son with a baby, to give yourself a better life,” his mom said, sneering. She looked at me like I was pebble stuck in her shoe. “But I will tell you this, you will get nothing from us.”

I couldn’t let her think that was what I wanted. “I have no intention of –”

“She’s not done,” his dad boomed, all Alpha. “Be quiet and listen.”

I shut my mouth at once. His Alpha voice felt impossible to disobey.

“Joseph has told us that you refused to have an abortion,” his mom continued, like the interruption had not occurred. “That’s fine. But know this…”

I swallowed hard, frightened.

“When that baby is born, we will take it. And you will never see it again.”