Page 124 of Puck Princess

“Twenty-one weeks,” I splutter, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I’m five months.”

I don’t want to give him that. I don’t want to give him anything. But right now, I am in so much pain and so afraid that I comply. I’ve seen him like this before and it ended in a nightmare that I’ve never been able to shake. Maybe if I just do what he wants, he’ll call for help.

But he doesn’t.

His eyes are shifting around, his lips forming silent words. It takes me a second to catch on, but then I realize he’s counting. When he stops, his eyes lock on me. “It’s mine.”

I blink up at him. “What? No! No, it?—”

“It’s mine,” he grits out.

I shake my head. “It’s not, Spencer. I swear. It’s?—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Five months ago, you were with me. Or don’t you remember?”

The question scrapes over my skin, flaying me open.Of course, I remember. I’ll never forget, no matter how hard I try.

“The baby is Owen’s.” My eyes are squeezed shut because I don’t want to look at him anymore. I want to will all of this away. I want to be back in the stands. I want to be with Owen.

“Bitch, don’t lie to me. For all I know, you just fucked him as a cover up.” He backs me against the wall, his hot breath on my face. “You knew you were carrying my baby, and you fucked Sharpe so you could pretend it belonged to someone else.”

I close my eyes, but I’m back in that small office. I’m back in the closet, Spencer’s hands laying claim to me as I fight.

“I know you want this.” Spencer’s voice coiled around me like a snake, threatening to suffocate me if I made any sudden moves.

I shook my head. “I don’t want this.”

“I never wanted you,” I say again. Last time, I didn’t fight. But this time will be different. I open my eyes. “This isn’t your baby.”

“Say it all you want, but it doesn’t change the truth. It doesn’t change what happened between us.”

“Stop denying me. Stop denying how much you want this. Why are you making this so hard?” He pressed his palm to my neck, curling it around my throat with the threat of choking me if I made one wrong move. Said one wrong word. “You want this. Stop lying.”

“What happened between us was—” I can’t find the right way to describe the soul-sucking horror of that day. So, I pivot. “Owen is the one I want. Owen is different. I love him.”

“And that’s why you fucked him? Because he wasdifferent?”

“I didn’t fuck him.” I look right into his dark eyes. “We made love. That’s where this baby came from—love. And you can’t take that away.”

“I don’t want this!” I cried again. But it didn’t matter. A moment later, he was taking me. Everything I was and everything I had—everything that belonged to me—Spencer was taking it for himself.

“Stop lying!” he shouts. His face is red. Spit sprays out of his mouth. “Tell me that baby is mine. Say it! Tell me there was something between us. Admit that there still is.” His fingers bite into my hip, and I try to twist away from him, but he only holds me tighter. “Whose baby is it, Callie? Tell me the truth.”

“You belong to me, Callie. Say it! Say my fucking name while I make you mine.”

“Say it!” Spencer screams. The past and present weave together like a noose around my neck.

The pain is back like an electric shock. Between the contracting and Spencer pressing me against the wall, I think I might pass out. I’m trying to escape in any way I can, but I can’t. He’s there when I close my eyes, and he’s here when I open them.

“Say my fucking name!”

“Owen,” I whisper.

Spencer slams his fist against the wall right above my head.

“Owen,” I say again, louder.

“I swear to god, bitch—” Spencer puts his hand on my throat, the past recreating itself.

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