Page 43 of Protector

I try to calm myself down to make it make sense.

“We were so careful, Maria. I promise, we were.”

Maria is quiet, for almost too long, and I squeeze her tightly, too tightly, so she can’t let me go.

Oh God, what have I done?

“Bonnie,” Maria whispers again, and I feel her hand stroke knowingly down my back.

“How do you know?”

I take in a deep breath and pull back a little to look at her.

“I haven’t had a period. I can’t remember when it was,” I whisper, shame eating away at me.

“I’m so sorry, Maria. We were so careful,” I repeat, and she just nods.

I can’t read her. On the outside, she seems calm and collected, but there’s something in her eyes, a spark of disappointment, maybe? And it stirs my gut the wrong way. I hate that I’ve let her down. God, I couldn’t bear it if Maria was ashamed of me.

She breaks the silence and my racing thoughts.

“Did you use a condom?”

I nod frantically.

“Yes, we did. I promise we did. Please, don’t be mad at Puck. He didn’t do anything wrong. He did everything right, he was the one, he was, he didn’t,” I stammer, but Maria shushes me as my sobs start to get louder.

“Bonnie, I'm not mad at Puck. Or you. But we don’t know for sure. I’ll get you a test, okay, and then we’ll know.

“Maria,” I whisper through my sobs. “He’s going to kill me.”

The room is so quiet, you’d hear a pin drop.

We both stand frozen on the spot, our thoughts racing, not over Puck, but Carlo. At my revelation, at the truth behind it, at the possibility of it coming true. Because it is, we know he’s more than capable of it.

My heart starts to accelerate even more. I don’t want to die. Not yet, not now. I can’t die now.

“I won’t let that man do anything to you, Bonnie. Not to you, nor my son.”

And there’s a look so strong, so defiant and real in her statement, I nod slowly, letting the words bring me a smidge of comfort. But, if it came to that, would Maria really be able to help?

She stands up, pulling me with her, as she leads me to my bed, laying me gently on the mattress and tucking me safely under the covers.

“Stay here, okay? The boys are downstairs in the games room, so they shouldn't bother you just yet. I’ll be twenty minutes, tops.”

With that, Maria leaves my room and closes it softly behind her.

My head is pounding, and my eyes are swollen and achy.

How could this happen? We were so careful.

I pull Puck’s journal out from underneath my pillow and torture myself by reading his love letters to me.

How did we end up here?

What feels like hours later, Maria comes back with a couple of boxes in her hands, and I start to feel sick.

I don’t want to do this.

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