Page 66 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

“I didn’t either.” An alabaster shell catches my eye, and I bend to pull it out of the sand. It’s a common but perfect lightning whelk. “I definitely didn’t think I’d end up being in a relationship with Declan, let alone Emerson and Cyrus.” I look up at her. “Are you really okay with it? It’s so contrary to everything…”

“Honey, as long as they treat you right, you could have a hundred boyfriends. Everything your father taught in that church were lies wrapped in scripture. I just want you to live a life full of love and happiness.”

I wrap my arms around her and hold on tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She chuckles nervously. “Besides, I have my own unorthodox situation going on right now. I’d be the biggest hypocrite to tell you not to be with your guys.”

Part of me wants to tell her I already know, but she’d ask how I know. I don’t want to embarrass her by saying that Declan saw them the other night.

“There’s no judgment on my end either.”

“I’m glad to hear that because you’re going to be a big sister.”

“What?” I drop my arms to look into her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” She looks at me hesitantly. “There’s more.”

My eyes move back and forth between hers, trying to search for the answers to the millions of questions I have. “And?”

“I don’t know who the father is.” Her eyes gloss over.

I don’t think about anything but comforting her. If she’s sad, it must be Scott’s baby. She was so thin, and she’s been gaining weight. My heart sinks for her, the thought of carrying that monster’s baby not once but twice. At least I was conceived before he started abusing her.

My mind keeps spinning. Too late for an abortion, I don’t know if she would have it in her anyway. The last thing she needs is to be more traumatized. I wonder how far along she is.

“It’s okay, Mom.” I hold her close. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Isn’t that precious,” a sinister voice says from behind us.

We both freeze, still holding onto one another. The voice is distantly familiar. Like it belongs to someone that I should remember but can’t place. Mom’s fingers dig into my skin, clutching me closer. Before letting go of her, I push the shell I was still holding inside my sleeve, just in case.

“Can I help you?” Mom’s tone is frosty. “This is private property. I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but you won’t find it here.”

“Actually, Annabelle, I’ve found exactly what I was looking for. I just didn’t know I’d find both of you together and with no guard dog in sight.”

The man takes a menacing step toward us. Everything about him screams average from his height to his greasy brown hair. Is this the person who’s been stalking us? The stench of cigarette smoke wafts off him, strong enough to invade my nostrils over the scent of the salt air of the Atlantic.

Mom steps between him and I. “I don’t know who you are, but my husband is up at the house. Let me go get him, and I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out with him.”

She grabs my arm and starts to walk us toward the path back to the house.

He steps in front of us, blocking the path. “No. We’re going that way.” He points toward the jetty with a gun that he pulls out his pocket. “Now. No screaming, not that they’d hear you with the wind off the water today.”

The chances of being able to run past him to the house are non-existent in the sand, but if he puts the gun away, and I get close enough, I can use the sharp point of the shell to hit him.Cyrus always said aim for the eyes. I have to keep Mom safe no matter what happens.

He points the gun again, more impatiently this time. There’s no choice but to do as he wants for now. The jetty is only about fifty yards away from us. I don’t have much time to formulate a plan.

He falls in behind us with Mom between him and I. Where did he even come from? There’s only one road onto the property, and he would have been seen by the guys because the trees that fell are right by the gate.

My questions are answered as we get to the jetty, and he nudges us up onto the rocks. He’s got a small dinghy tied to a boulder near the end. I stumble on the sharp, loose rocks, the skin on my feet tearing open as Mom grabs my waist to keep me from falling.

That’s when my plan formulates. It might not work. It could backfire, but anything is better than both of us getting tossed into the dinghy and taken fuck knows where. I just have to time it perfectly.

I won’t let my mom be taken.

The top of the jetty is a mixture of small, weather-worn rocks, sand, and mud, with the sides covered in slippery boulders. As soon as we’re halfway down the jetty, I pretend to trip, and as I stumble I grab my mom, and with all my strength, I push her off the jetty and into the churning waves below. Her horrified eyes lock on mine just as she’s about to hit the water, and I mouth that I love her one last time.

I have to hope she’ll make it back to shore; the water is too rough for her to try to climb back up the jetty. She’s a strong swimmer, I have to believe I just saved her.

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