Page 66 of Trailer Trash

He continued to pace, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Jed. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, looking incredulous. “Why the hell areyousorry?”

“You told me not to tell you, and I did anyway. I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t you ever be sorry for telling me the truth. How many people have you told that story to?”

“No one. Just you.”

He stopped pacing and lunged for me, pulling me against his chest. “God. Neely Kate.” He sounded so anguished. Because of me. I couldn’t take it.

I jerked away. “Stop.Just stop.I don’t want your pity, and I don’t want your condemnation. I only told you so you’d know what I’ve been running from, and I haven’t even finished.”

He shook his head. “No condemnation, Neely Kate. Not one little bit.”

“I could have run and I didn’t,” I said.

“When?” he asked in disbelief. “When could you have run?”

“When Stella took me to Oklahoma City.”

“Did she ever let you out of her sight?”

“Only once I was prepped and ready for the procedure.”

“And then she came right back, didn’t she?”

I didn’t answer. We both knew that she had.

“You were beaten down, Neely Kate. You were . . .fuck!” he shouted, then spun away and began to pace again. After a couple of lengths, he leaned his hands on the top of the car, then cursed and shook his hands when he realized how hot it was.

He spun and turned to face me, rage twisting his familiar features into something unrecognizable. “You realize he knew, don’t you?”

My blood ran straight to my toes. “Knew what?”

“He knew you were pregnant. He paid for the abortion.”

“What? No . . .”

“Yes.He knew. Trust me. If he was using you like that, he knew your cycle. He had to schedule his . . .” His voice trailed off, and if possible, he looked even angrier than before.

“But why would Stella . . . ?”

“What would you have done if he took you to get an abortion? Probably fought him on it, right? But damn, he knew you’d trust your friend to have your best interest in mind. How else would she be able to get you out of that room?”

I stumbled backward, my butt hitting the back of the car. “I’m so stupid.” It all came rushing back, viewed through a different lens, and now I could see that he was right.

Branson had known all along.

Horror washed through me. “Oh, my God. I killed my baby. And that’s exactly what he wanted.I’m so stupid.”

“No!” he shouted, drawing the attention of the few people brave enough to face the heat to pump their gas. “Don’t you dare accept any guilt in this.” Then his expression morphed into horror. “You blame yourself. You think you deserved it.”

I took several steps to the side, clearing the back of the car.

“Oh, my God. He made you think you deserved it.”

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