Page 33 of Fear Me, Love Me

And if I’m pregnant? What then?

I hurry back to my bedside, take out the pregnancy test that Tyrant bought me, and shove it into my backpack.

Leaving my room and the dorms behind, I walk out into the silvery darkness of a night with a full moon. The bus station is a mile or so away, and that’s where I head. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’ll buy the cheapest ticket for whichever bus comes soonest and takes me the farthest away. After that, I don’t know. I barely have any money, so I’ll try to get a job and find some way to put a roof over my head.

At the bus stop, I contemplate the noisy, smelly buses, wondering if I’m making the right decision. Maybe I should stay in Henson and go to the police instead. Tell them I have a stalker. Tyrant is powerful, but the police can do something to protect me, can’t they?

I gnaw on my lip, hesitating by the curb. I’m not sure about the police. Tyrant has been right under their nose for decades, and from what I’ve heard, they’ve never so much as issued him a speeding ticket.

I should know everything before I make a decision that affects my future. Am I only looking out for myself, or do I have a baby to protect as well?

The restrooms are dingy and leaky, and I’m hit by the sour smell of stale urine. Sitting on the toilet in an empty cubicle, I take out the test and read the instructions. Pee on this end, wait three minutes. Seems easy enough.

A short while later, I’m holding the test in my fingers as I wait for it to develop, my phone in my other hand so I can keep an eye on the time. The seconds seem to crawl by. I’m not pregnant. There’s no way I can be pregnant. I’ve got too many things to worry about, like Tyrant and what he’s doing right this moment. Probably tearing my dorm room apart in a rage because the tracker has gone dark.

After three painstaking minutes, I glance down at the test and examine the indicator window. I gasp in shock, and the test drops from my fingers and clatters onto the concrete floor.

Oh, fuck.

Oh,fuck.

I consider picking up the test and checking it again, but what would be the point?

I’m pregnant.

I’m having Tyrant Mercer’s baby.

For a long time, I stare blindly at the graffiti on the back of the stall door until the grinding of gears and the roar of a bus engine outside draws me back into myself. I have to run. Get far away from Tyrant before he can find out about the baby and become even more insane. He’d make his child just like him. If he finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll probably try to take my child from me the moment they’re born.

Feeling disconnected from my own body, I scoop up the test and throw it in the trash, pull on my jeans, and flush the toilet. This doesn’t feel real. I’m only nineteen. I can’t have a baby.

I don’t have to have this baby.

Do I even want this baby?

In a flash, at the thought of getting rid of it, I immediately know the answer. I want this baby. I was half in love with the idea when Tyrant was fucking me without protection. I was playing with fire on purpose, and I didn’t even try that hard to get ahold of some Plan B when one pharmacist told me they were out of stock.

Being a mom means having a family at last. My family. Someone who I can love unconditionally. I’ll protect this child in all the ways that Mom, Dad, or Samantha never protected me.

I wash my hands and splash water over my face, dry them on my sweater, and head back out into the fresh air. I need a bus schedule and then I need to sit down and make a plan.

“Where do you think you’re going, angel?”

I freeze, fear racing down my spine. I want to run, but Tyrant spoke so close behind me that he could reach out and grab me in less than a second. Slowly, I turn around and see him leaning against the wall, the top half of his body in the shadows.

“How did you find me? I cut the tracker out.”

Tyrant pushes away from the wall and saunters into the light. The flickering neon bulbs highlight his cheekbones. The cruel curve of his mouth. Those dark, threatening eyes. He’s taken out the red contacts and removed the horned mask, but he still looks like the devil. “You forgot to check if you were being followed when you left your dorm. You’re not a naturally deceptive person, Vivienne. It’s useless trying to hide from me.”

My shoulders slump. I forgot to glance around even once.

Tyrant glances suspiciously at the restrooms. “What took you so long in there?”

My stomach lurches. Remembering what Tyrant just said about me not being naturally deceptive, I force myself to put on the performance of my life. As nonchalant as I can, I tell him, “I was trying to take this makeup off.”

“It’s still on your face.”

“I said trying. I need makeup remover.”

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