Page 56 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

“Where’s my baby right now?”

He stops on the spot, almost skidding in his shoes as he turns back to me. “Your fetus wasn’t even the size of a poppy seed yet. It was just a placenta smaller than--”

“Where is it?”

His eyes are soft and his brows low. He stares at me for a long minute, then sighs and stands tall again. “I’m sorry, but it’s gone. You passed it on your own. I’m sorry for your loss, Samantha.”

He leaves the room silently and shatters my already broken heart with the simple click of the closing door. Slow tears well up and slide over my cheek. I clench my fists closed as my father stands over me. He almost looks sorry, but his lips are too proud to ever get away with sincerity. “Nothing changes.”

“What?”

“Sam Turner still goes to prison, or you leave him. This hospital visit remains on record… nothing changes. Make your call now, or I make mine.”

I look from his eyes to my mom’s. She’s not even trying to look sorry. Shaking my head slowly, I turn back to my dad. “I hate you.”

He shrugs casually, but victory shines in his eyes.

– Scotch –

Stick To The Plan

Packing my bags silently in the dark while Marc sits on his bed and watches me, I stuff as much as I can into the hiking bag my dad bought me years ago – a bag that I never ended up using for its intended use. The billion expandable pockets come in handy now as I pack everything I can think I might need for the next week or so, and by that point, we can think about the extras, and the guys will make sure I get them.

Sammy insisted she go home last night; she needed to pack a few things, and she needed to make sure her parents didn’t call the cops – not my dad – about her disappearing act earlier that day.

With a promise to meet at the lake this morning, Angelo drove us to her house and I kissed her farewell at her gates. We watched her weakly move up the circular drive and move onto the porch before we drove away.

“Where are you guys gonna go?”

“Dunno,” I answer Marc’s whispered words. “Sammy’s already gotten acceptance letters to a few different schools, so I guess we’ll decide which one she wants.”

“How will she pay for school?”

“She applied for student loans and stuff.”

“What about you?”

I continue to pack, shoving as much as I can into the expanding bag. “I have cash. We’ll be okay.”

“No, what are you gonna do? You have acceptance letters too. What are you gonna do about school?”

“Well, I have to get a full-time job. I have a family to support now.”

“So you’ll just flush away your 4.0 GPA? You act dumb, dude, but I know the truth.”

I stop and look up into his dark eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Marc. Moving costs money. Rent costs money. Babies cost money. No one’s coming to save us, and no one else is gonna pay for those things on my behalf--”

“Jesus. It was all a fairytale yesterday, huh? A new wife. A teeny-tiny baby in her belly. Teenagers or not, it was all happening for you. And now reality hits. Bills, school, running away. I dunno about this--”

“I don’t have a choice!”

“You do!” he shoots back. “She’s eighteen. They can’t force her to do anything she doesn’t wanna do. Stay here, let your mom and dad help. Let your brothers help. You’ll break the girls’ hearts if you disappear. Stay here, and you can still get your smarty pants degree. You don’t have to leave us.”

“Her folks will never allow--”

“Whether you’re here, or an hour, or twenty hours away, they have no power over her!” Marc stands up from his bed quickly, snatching my bag away from my hurried hands. “Just take a damn second to think this through. You found out less than a day ago that she was pregnant. You shouldn’t be making big decisions so soon.”

“We didn’t make these decisions yesterday, Marc.” I snatch my bag back and keep packing. “We made them ages ago. The only difference now is there’s a baby on the way. Nothing was decided in the heat of the moment.”

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