Jeff puts me in his car and drives us back to my parents’ house. When we pull up, I try running. I need to get to Striker before he goes after his dad.

I don’t want him starting any more trouble with him, and I don’t want Ken to spill my family secret. It would ruin my father. It would kill my mom, and my sister doesn’t deserve any of this right now. It’s not as bad now that we’ve grown up - at least we won’t have to choose who we’re going to live with - but this weekend? The weekend of my sister’s wedding?

Jeff catches me trying to run and snags his strong arms around my waist. He walks me up to my room and sets me down the bed, leveling his eyes with mine. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to stay here. I’m going to sit right outside that door to make sure of it.”

“You don’t understand, Jeff. I need to get to him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s going to fuck everything up. He’s going to go after his dad and he doesn’t know everything. He needs to hear it from me, not from him.”

“What are you talking about, Alex?”

I can’t stay at this party. I have to get out.

I sneak up to my room and climb out my window.

I have to find Striker and tell him. We could leave tonight. I know he will be up for it. He’s been waiting for this day for over a year.

I make the walk to his house, but his truck isn’t here.

I don’t want to ask Ken, but I have to find him.

I knock on the door.

“What?” Ken yells from inside.

I open the door and step inside, letting it slam behind me. “Do you know where Striker is? I really need to talk to him.”

“I told you to stay away from my son, didn’t I?”

I don’t have time for this shit tonight. “I have to go.” I turn for the door, but Ken grabs me and lifts me off my feet, setting me down on the opposite side of the room with his body directly between me and the door.

“You’re going to listen to me this time.” He points his finger in my face. “You will stay away from my son, do you understand?”

Riding a surge of bravery, I say, “You can’t stop shit. He’s eighteen and so am I. We’re leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it.” I raise my chin and straighten my back.

Something flashes in his eyes and he pulls his hand back to slap me. I flinch and raise my arms protectively in front of my stomach to shield the tiny baby inside that only Gemma knows about.

He stops, suddenly knowing. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I don’t talk, I don’t do anything, because he knows. Striker doesn’t even know yet.

He drops his hand and starts pacing in front of me. “He knocked you up, didn’t he?”

My eyes fall to the floor. I don’t want to tell him anything. He doesn’t have any right to know.

He lets out a laugh. “You fucking whore.” He shakes his head while continuing to pace. “What is it with your fucking family? Huh? You take Striker and your dad takes Kate.”

Wait. What? “My dad did what?”

He stops in front of me. “What? You don’t know?”

I don’t budge.

“Your daddy and my wife had been having an affair. He knocked her up too. When she refused to get rid of it, he paid her to take that baby and stay out of his life. That’s why my wife left. And now here you are, trying to take my son? Trying to tie him down with a kid?” His pacing starts back up while he shakes his head at me.

“Does Striker know?”

I take a silent step back.

“He doesn’t, does he?”

My lips press tight together, but he can read the answer written all over my face.

“This is how this is going to go.” He stops again, making sure my eyes are on him, and points his finger at me. “You leave. You get far away from here and you get rid of that fucking kid before you ruin my son’s life.”

“No, you can’t make me do that!”

He smiles. “I’m guessing that if you didn’t know about the affair, your mother doesn’t either.” He doesn’t have to say it, but I understand the threat he’s presenting me with.

“Stay away from my son or I’ll make sure they all know. Wouldn’t that be the talk of the town?” He shoots me a cocky grin that highlights his double chin. “Everyone will be talking about how the hotshot lawyer that runs this town fucked up. I bet Mommy-Dearest will love that. Tell me, how well will she take it when she knows she’s the talk of the town? Do you think she will leave your dad? If she does, where will you end up?” He laughs again, knowing he’s getting to me.

My eyes tear up. Leave Striker? Can I do that?

I have to, I can’t let my family get ruined.

“Leave, get rid of that fucking kid, and stay the fuck away from my son. He’s mine. Understand?”

I shake my head as my eyes finally fill with tears that overflow and roll down my cheeks.

He steps out of my way and I rush to the door.

“Oh, you better be gone by morning or the whole town will know. Don’t see my son, don’t say goodbye to my son. Just leave.”

I push past him, through the door, and walk home. My mother pounces on me as soon as the door opens, chewing me out for leaving my own party. I ignore her and go straight to my room. I don’t turn on the light. Making my way through the dark to the window, I glance down to the back yard. There he is, waiting for me. I should’ve known.

All I want to do is to go to him, but I can’t. Not unless I want to ruin my family. If that secret comes out, Striker will hate me. It was my father that did this to him.

I fall into bed and cry myself to sleep.

I have to tell him. I have to get to him. “Please, Jeff. You can take me yourself. It won’t take long. I just have to be the one to tell him.” My eyes are red and puffy with tears after reliving the memory of that night.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Jeff reluctantly drives me to Striker’s house. I pound on the door for a good five minutes, but he doesn’t answer.

“Go to Ken’s house.”

I give him directions and we pull up a few minutes later. The house is dark and Striker’s truck isn’t here. We drive around town and by the bar, but find no sign of him anywhere.

Midnight rolls around, and we finally give up and go home.

I crash into bed. Why can’t I find him? Does he know? Did Ken tell him the rest of the story? If he did, he’s going to hate me for sure now.

* * *

I wake several times through the night and check my cell phone, hoping for a missed call or text notification. Nothing. Every time I attempt to call him, I am sent straight to his voicemail. The things I need to tell him have to be said in person, not over the phone. I set my phone down and force myself to go back to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Jeff wakes me by jumping on my bed. “Today’s the big day! Are you ready to be on my arm all night?” He flashes me a grin and winks.

“Go away. I’m tired.” I roll over and pull the blanket over my head.

He reaches under the blanket and grabs my ankles, pulling me from under the blankets. I land on my ass at the foot of the bed.

“Don’t tell me you stayed up crying all night over his ass.” He has his arms crossed over his chest, staring me down.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.” He shrugs and sits on the bed next to me.

“I can’t. I need to tell Striker.”

“Well, he’s not here and if I know you at all, you’ve made several attempts to contact him by now. Looks like I’m all you got.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I can’t tell anyone. This is between me and him.”

“Can’t say I didn’t try.” He stands and crosses the room, pausing for a moment at the door before turning back to me. “You need to pull yourself together, get a shower, and plaster on that fake smile you’re so good at pulling off. This is your sister’s wedding day. Now, get up and fake it.” He walks out the door and closes it gently behind him.

He’s right. I can’t fall apart right now. I will tell Striker when I see him. That’s all I can do.

I force myself off the floor and get into the shower.

* * *

The day is spent in a daze running around and doing errands for my sister, but I still nervously check my phone every few minutes. Still nothing from Striker.

A painful lump has grown overnight in my chest, born from my worsening anxiety about the whole situation. I know now, his dad must have told him the whole story. No way could he still be pissed off that I didn’t tell him about his mother’s pregnancy.

He’s pissed about mine. My pregnancy that ended much too soon.

Smoke from my fifth cigarette in an hour rises wispily in front of the church doors to be shredded by the wind. My eyes are glued to the screen of my phone.

Just call, text, do something, Striker. Fuck!

I just need everything off my chest.

Finally, the secret that has grown to be a part of me has outgrown its home. It’s stretched me from the inside out. It has fed on pieces of me for years, slowly stealing everything. Relationships, love, family, everything stolen by a single secret. I want rid of it.

I built walls within myself to hold it down, to keep it locked up tight so nobody would see, but that ugly little secret took root and grew until it loomed high over the walls I built. It busted effortlessly through my brick walls and didn’t stop there.

“Alex,” Jeff says, getting my attention.

I turn and look at him, dressed in a nice black suit with a white dress shirt and blue tie.

“It’s time, come on.” He holds out his hand for me.

I flick my cigarette into the road and take his hand.

We take our seats in the pews and I lean into his side for support. This secret is heavy, so heavy that it’s weight has transcended into reality and now physically weighs me down.

The congregation stands, signaled by notes spewing from the organ at the front of the church. My sister enters through the ornate double doors with my father on her arm. The music plays softly in the background and even though I know all eyes are on her, it feels like they are all on me. As if everyone can finally see the liar I am.

* * *

The wedding goes smoothly. With my mother running the show, there isn’t a chance anyone will fuck up. Nobody wants to be on her bad side.

The reception starts up at the country club and I suck down two glasses of wine. Still, my phone is in my hand waiting for the call from Striker that never comes.

Jeff must feel bad for me, because he takes me by the hand and leads me to the dance floor. He pulls me against his chest and locks eyes with mine. “Still no word?”

I shake my head, unable to produce words.

He lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “When are you going to see that all this guy wants is to hurt you? You deserve more than him.”

“That’s not it, Jeff. I had to break some pretty tough news to him last night. And if Ken told him what I think he said, he’s hurting right now, more than anyone could imagine.”

“You still deserve more.”

My feet stop moving. Why does everyone say this to me? What is so wrong with Striker? He’s a good man, nobody knows him like I do.

I pull away and make my way toward the exit. I need another cigarette.

He chases after me into the parking lot.

“I’m sorry, Alex, but it’s true. You know it, your mother knows it, and I know it.”

I stop on the sidewalk and pull a cigarette from my clutch, lighting it before turning to face him.

“Okay, Jeff. Who do I deserve then?”

He slides his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Me.”

I feel my shoulders slump. No, please, no.

He closes the space between us in one long stride and pulls me against him. His hands are on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

“Where’s he at, huh? He’s not here. He left you, hurting. He hasn’t called or even let you know that he’s okay. I’m here. I came here for you.”

His words almost shock me. We’re friends, that’s what friends do: they do things for one another. I can’t speak, I can’t move, I can’t process what he’s saying.

“Let her go,” a husky voice drawls from behind him.

Jeff takes a long breath and releases me. He turns around to face Striker. “Why don’t you just go back to wherever you’ve been all day?” He turns back to me and reaches for my hand.

“You fucking touch her again and you won’t have a hand.” Striker quickly walks up and takes the hand Jeff was reaching for.

He doesn’t look at me yet, he’s too busy staring Jeff down.

Jeff’s eyes flash from me to Striker. A cocky grin covers his face before he rubs his jaw, mulling it over. “Fine.” He holds his hands in the air. “This is what you want, Alex?” He backsteps. “You want this worthless asshole? Knock yourself out, but I won’t be around to watch it.” He turns and walks toward his car in the parking lot.

Striker and I stand, motionless, until Jeff’s headlights fade away into the night.

Striker doesn’t say a word. He just pulls me into the parking lot, weaving through the rows of fancy cars.

When we reach his truck, he opens the passenger side door and waits, still not looking at me.

I take a long breath, but climb into my seat. He closes the door behind me hard and walks around to the driver’s seat, then starts the truck and drives back to where we were last night. Our spot. Well, technically not only our spot, since every horny teenager has come here at one time or another.

It’s a romantic spot, overlooking the lake. We may even be in the exact same spot where we had our first kiss before letting Barney’s brand new police cruiser roll into the water. The memory brings a faint smile to my lips.

“How could you?” His voice is pained and raw, as if he’s done nothing but cry or scream for hours.

I tear my eyes away from the water and look at the pained expression covering his face. His brows are pulled together, causing wrinkles to form around his bloodshot eyes. He’s sitting up straight as a statue, his back and shoulders are tense and hard as stone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to hate me. I thought that if I told you about my dad and your mom, that your hate for him would rub off on me. I’m so sorry, Striker.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His head dips forward and he rubs his brows with one hand, wishing away the stress of everything.

“When I left you at the bar last night, I went to see my dad. He told everything, and I do mean everything.”

I freeze. He knows about the pregnancy.

Fuck, what am I going to do? How can I make up for this?

Tears flood my eyes and I nod, understanding his underlined message.

“He told you about my pregnancy?”

He inhales, holds his breath for a few seconds, and lets the breath go. It’s quiet, but it speaks volumes to me.

“I’m sorry,” I cry out. The tears won’t stop coming. Sobs wrack my body despite my strongest attempts to restrain them. My chest hurts and my throat is tight from trying to contain it all – the anger, the fear, the sadness, and the pain. I remember everything like it was yesterday.

“How?” he yells.

I take a calming breath and dry my tears. I need my walls one last time. I’m going to bare myself to him, and I can’t let his reaction hurt me. It will wreck me. It will break me. It’s time I give up another piece of myself and tell him about my pregnancy.