Page 28 of The Broken Beginning: Part One

“There was a final notice for the electric taped to our door when I left for school earlier,” I explained.

“Is that why you were sick?” She asked, the pity in her eyes was hard to handle.

“Yeah. The place where I work told me they don’t have hours for me right now, so I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay it.”

“Lily, I know I’m not your teacher this year, but if you ever need anything, even if it’s a place to stay, I want you to know I will do my best to help find you a safe space where you can go.”

“Thank you. I’m not in danger around them.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, in danger of having to deal with their stupidity. Our dads know about the bill now, so I have no worry that it will get paid.”

“Why didn’t you tell them before?”

“I didn’t know that it wasn’t being paid until this morning.” I shrugged and then got out of her car and bypassed all three men who just stared at me as I went. Then, I unlocked my front door, went inside, and closed it behind me again before dropping my bookbag on the kitchen floor and grabbing a can of ginger ale from the fridge. I hoped that it would calm my upset stomach.

I took the bulky jacket off that I had found at the thrift store in January. Walking to the grocery store was a bit too chilly for simple hoodies, and I didn’t have a jacket that would fit my belly, so it was the only thing I could do. I was just draping it over a kitchen chair when the three men finally made their way inside the house, consuming all the space available with their overall bulk and energy.

“What are you doing home and who in the hell just dropped you off?” My father bellowed at me.

I turned and ended up laughing at the shocked gasp that came from Merc. I supposed the way I looked now would be a shock to his system since he hadn’t laid eyes on me in months. If you looked at me from behind, you wouldn’t even know that I was pregnant. I was in my seventh month now and all belly. There was so damn much of it too.

“Mrs. Walston, the art teacher, found me getting sick in the bathroom and kindly brought me home.”

“Why were you sick?” That time it was Boone, though his voice was at least a little softer and laced with concern.

“Well, I think I had a panic attack to be honest,” I said nonchalantly before taking a sip of my ginger ale and then deciding that my feet hurt. I pulled the chair closest to me out and did the awkward, lean back-squat it took to get my butt in the chair without losing my balance and missing the damn seat. This pregnant belly thing had me all kinds of off balance most of the time.

“Panic attack?” My father asked. I just tipped my head toward his clenched fist that held the balled-up electric shut off notice.

My sigh precluded the shitstorm I knew was about to happen when I explained. “My boss called with the news that he didn’t have any hours for me, then I saw that notice about the electric and I didn’t know what I was going to do. Then I felt foolish because I should have known those bills needed to be paid, but I’d never gotten an actual bill in the mail here, so it never even registered. You know?”

I continued my rambling before anyone could stop me or answer my inane question. “So, then I started kind of hyperventilating because it occurred to me that there might be a house payment I was supposed to pay too. And what will I do if someone comes along one day and tells me I have to leave? Where would I go with no money, no one willing to let me work, and a baby on the way? Or what if it happened after the baby was here? And then I couldn’t breathe, and the vomiting happened shortly after. That was when Mrs. Walston came in and offered to take me home. Now, here I am.”

Not two seconds after I shut my trap, Merc was lying on the floor nursing a sore jaw, because my father didn’t say one word, he just punched my estranged husband right in the face.

“That’s what your selfishness has been doing to my daughter all this time!”

While my dad hovered angrily over a dazed Merc, Boone moved closer and pulled a chair out to join me at the table. “Darlin’ I never meant for you to feel that kind of stress. When I said the house was yours, I meant it. There is no house payment, it was paid off two years ago. You don’t have anything to worry about, okay?”

A simple nod of my head was my only answer as I continued to sip my ginger ale. My father stuck out a hand to help Merc up off the floor, which was kind of him because I would have left him there. I guess that’s petty of me but fuck it. I wasn’t oblivious to everything going on outside of this house, even if I didn’t know about things like house payments, electric bills, and whatnot. Stacey had kept me informed about what Merc was up to, and according to her, he was living with some whore at the clubhouse who claimed she was his old lady.

I’m not delusional. I know I am less than nothing to the man, but it still hurts to know that he would openly claim another woman while still married to me. It makes things worse that both of our fathers had to know about it too since they’re all in the same damn club. I wish I could just leave, but that’s not how things worked in our world. Merc might not care, but our dads would hunt me down and drag me back because they know I’m carrying a boy. A son of the club. I rolled my eyes and wondered for a minute if they would feel the same if it was a girl.

“Don’t worry about the bills, I’ll get them caught up,” Merc said as my father all but dragged him to the kitchen table. I didn’t bother responding because fuck him.

“Do you want a ride back to school?” My dad asked me.

“No. I’m thinking about dropping out anyway.”

“What? Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I do that, Dad?” I scoffed at his angry tone. “Have you seen me? You do realize I’m going to give birth before the school year is even over and I already missed a bunch of classes because I was so sick in the beginning. Plus, I can’t work if I’m going to school. And where the hell am I going to put a baby next year when I’m in school if I can’t afford daycare or a babysitter so that I can go?”

My father’s response was to turn away from me and roar while launching an ugly lamp at the wall. It was the first thing in his reach, and honestly, I was glad. I wasn’t sure which one of the old ladies put that trash in this house, but I hated it. The only thing that had stopped me from getting rid of the thing was because I didn’t know if it was something that belonged to Boone or Merc. Maybe it was sentimental family shit? Who knew? I certainly didn’t because no one talked to me.

“You don’t have to drop out,” Merc chimed in. “I’ll pay for whatever.”

I laughed at that, reached down and picked up the balled-up shut off notice from the electric company that my dad had dropped in the middle of his fit. Then, I took the time to smooth it out and placed it on the table, so the words were facing Merc.

Boone laughed. “I think that’s her way of telling you that your kind of help ain’t something she can rely on, Son.”

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