Page 21 of Hold On Through The Pain

No question, if she was pregnant, it was Striker’s baby. She hadn’t had sex for almost a year before him, and there’d been no one after him.

She pulled out her phone and looked at her calendar, counting back the weeks since her last period. It had been too long. School had left her exhausted, and she’d forgotten to do things like track her period.

The only way to know if she was pregnant was to take the test.

Her hands shook as she held the stick. This was one of the most awkward things she’d ever done. Once she’d finished, she capped the stick and set it aside.

The unmistakable rumble of her father’s truck pulling into the driveway sounded. Panic flared. She shoved the pregnancy test along with the paper into a drawer and washed her hands. She’d have to look at the test later. For now, she needed to get dinner cooking.

Her father wanted tacos, so she had to go to the store and pick up meat and peppers along with cheese and guacamole. Because the possible pregnancy had her tied up in knots, she forgot the tortillas and had to run back into the store. Her father would be pissed it was taking her so long. She’d need to come up with a story about why it had seemed to take her forever to get the food.

She finally made it home to find her father had already cracked open the tequila. It would be that type of night.

After getting the meat cooked and spiced, she started in on the vegetables. Everything was fine. The food was on the table, and she was ready to eat when her father stumbled into the kitchen, his fist clenched around something small. She flinched when he lifted his hand and shook it at her.

“What is this?” His voice echoed around the room, anger seething.

She stared at his hand, leaning in closer. What did he have? She drew in a slow breath as fear took over.

Crap!

He held her pregnancy test clutched in his fist. Oh God, how had he found that?

“I can—” she sputtered but his roar cut her off.

“You’re pregnant! Who the fuck is the guy? I want to meet him right now.”

Her knees went weak, and her stomachpitched. This was the worst thing that could happen.

She shrank back against the wall, wishing she could hide. Her dad stepped close, his face red as a beet. He shook his raised fist at her.

“Who is he? Tell me now. I’m going to go drag him out on his ass and force him to do the right thing.”

She held up her hands, palms out, praying for help. “Dad, stop.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“He-he’s not here.” Her voice shook as much as her body. Fear had taken over.

He swung and his fist connected with her cheek. Pain exploded. Her ears rang with the pain from the punch.

She took a staggering step to the side, and he swung again, his hand open this time, the slap resounding. She fell, stumbling against the cabinet, her head glancing off the countertop as she went down. He reared back and kicked her leg, the blow filling her with pain.

Silence ensued as her dad stormed out, slamming the door behind him. No question he was angry, but was he drunk too? Probably. She should stop him, keep him from getting into a crash. She tried to stand but plopped back to her ass. It was too much to stand so she stayed on the floor for a moment, listening to the roar of his truck recede.

Left alone, she drew in a slow breath, knowing Striker would never hit her like her dad had. But Striker wasn’t around, and she had no one she could turn to.

The food sat on the table, untouched. Shannon cried as she stored the meat and tomatoes, the cheese, and the other food she’d prepared for tacos. Later, he’d want to eat. After he went to bed, she’d have to come out and wash the dishes. She’d made up a taco for herself while she was putting the food away and ate leaning up against the counter, her head down, sadness surrounding her.

This wasn’t how life was supposed to be. People weren’t meant to live with so much pain and anger. Exhausted, she headed to her room but went back to the kitchen to find the pregnancy test which had been tossed under the table. The little pink plus showed, telling her it was positive. A thread of happiness twisted through her, pulling at her heart though her head ached, and she wanted to throw up.

No question, she would keep this baby, even if Striker never came back into her life. She wanted a piece of him with her. He’d been the type of man she’d believed only existed in movies and books. The world needed more men like him.

After making sure the kitchen was spotless, she stepped into the shower, wanting to wash off quickly. Thoughts of Striker brought tears to hereyes that spilled over and washed away with the spray from the shower. She knew she couldn’t stay long in the warm water because if her dad came home and wanted to take a shower, he’d be pissed the hot water was gone.

She’d been ignoring the pain from his hit and kick, but with the water running down her body, the sting made her wince. The skin on her face and her leg must have broken.

After she turned off the water, she glanced down, noticing blood running down her leg to her foot. Damn, he must have done more damage than she’d first assumed. She turned the water on again and rinsed away the blood, using soap to clean the wound. The pain was pretty high, but she wasn’t sure what she could take since she was pregnant.

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