I LITERALLY THREW up in the bathroom, and I’m not sure if it was Brad flirting or the pregnancy making me so sick. I’m annoyed with him, upset, and I don’t know what the hell else. I don’t even know if I have a right to be annoyed. He’d only kissed me. And I had pushed him away. I’m not special, so he’s bound to flirt, hook up—do whatever he does, I guess. But it stings, and I surprise myself reacting the way I do. I contemplate all this on the walk back up the aisle. I stop as Devon’s hand comes from nowhere and clutches my wrist. I stare down to where our skin is connected. I want to pull my arm away. The need to do just that almost overtakes me, but I resist and look her in the eye for the first time in what feels like forever. Her face is filled with emotion—hurt I think.
‘Can we talk?’ she asks. ‘Please?’ Over her shoulder, Jared is glaring at me almost like he’s daring me to say no.
‘Not now, but okay,’ I tell her. When I’m ready. She smiles, and I walk away. Brad gets up for me, and I sit back in my seat. He doesn’t try to speak to me. I’m glad. I think. I’m still reeling over everything. My mind keeps going back to the fact I have a baby inside me. I never thought about kids. I guess I always assumed I’d meet someone, get married, and then have kids. I never thought I’d be pregnant at eighteen and have a double-digit number of possible none-human fathers. I choke on a lump rising in my throat and swallow hard. Zoe turns to look at me.
‘You okay?’
I nod. I don’t trust my voice. My throat is all closed up and burning with the need to cry. Zoe must see it because she takes my hand in hers and squeezes it reassuringly. Then she leans in and whispers, ‘He’s not always an asshole—give him time.’
I just smile. She has no idea. If only my life were only that complicated, and I just had to decide if I want the guy or not. In this case, I have no choice. I literally cannot live without him. I need his blood. The fact that I have all these mixed up feelings that I cannot decipher are just throwing me a loop. I want him. I’m attracted to him. Very attracted to him. But he isn’t human. And I have a baby inside me that is also not fully human. And what I have inside me is an enemy to Brad and his pack. I know he is waiting for me to decide if I want to go through with the pregnancy. And again, I just can’t seem to come to a decision. I’m so scared of keeping it and hating it for what it is—for how it was made. But I’m terrified that if I don’t go through with it, I will miss a chance at loving unconditionally and being loved unconditionally. Of being a parent. Of giving what I never had. It’s not like this kid asked to be made the way it did. It’s not its fault. I’m also terrified that Brad will hate it. That’s a fleeting thought, and it passes as quick as it came, because what man would want a woman who is pregnant with an enemy’s child. So I let that thought go. He wouldn’t want me anyway. He’s just playing with me. He’s a player, that much is clear. I’d be just another notch in his belt. And there I was, thinking he might like me. Of course he doesn’t. Damaged goods. Knocked up, damaged goods at that.
***
The plane journey is horrible. I literally feel like we are falling from the sky at one point. Turbulence, Brad tells me. The landing is just as bad. I grip my thighs so hard in an attempt to quell my shaking hands that I know for sure I’ll have bruises. That was the only words he spoke to me the whole journey. Now I’m in a kind of minibus come truck which the American pack have sent to collect us. There are several in a row. It’s like one of those long processions that you see on television when they are transporting someone important. Except these aren’t all the same. Brad is up front, with Howard beside him, then there’s Jared and Devon, me and then some other guys at the back. Brad keeps turning in his seat to look at me. I can see him in my peripheral, but I just keep my eyes on the scenery outside that’s flashing by really fast.
Devon squeezes my hand in hers, and I turn to stare at her. I’m not expecting it although she had asked to talk. I’m not sure I like her touch at all, so I pull my hand away. It wasn’t quick, like a ‘don’t touch me’ movement. It was just casually done. So she knows I’m not comfortable yet.
I see hurt flash across her face, and somewhere inside I feel a twinge of something—guilt maybe? Or sadness? I’m not sure. My emotions don’t mean shit anymore. They just fire on broken circuits and do as they please. I have no control. I try and smile a little, but even that doesn’t work. I can feel the muscles in my face trying to make a small smile, but what I think I give her is a small grimace instead. Devon gives me a tight smile, and I don’t know what to make of that either. And just then Brad turns again, and our eyes meet across the tops of the seats. I’m still all over with how I feel about him. His flirting with the woman on the plane really hurt me. I think I like his attention, and I like that he wanted me. Even after everything. So that’s obviously why I feel like I do. But I need to get over it and over him. I look away, and as soon as I do, I want to look right back. Instead, I clench my jaw and keep my eyes on the road.