Page 38 of A Deceitful Pact

“They go from the day of your last period, so we made a guess at seven weeks. I’ll know for sure when I get a sonogram.” She sighs as if I’m being an inconvenience, but I can’t stop smiling.

“I can’t believe we did it.” I shake my head as I let it all sink in, and when I go to place my hand on her stomach, she catches my wrist and holds it back.

“Congratulations, you’re a proven stud.” She gives me a look of warning before slowly releasing.

“Are you not happy about it?” I know she hates me right now, but surely she can’t stay angry at me forever.

“Of course, I’m happy. This is what I wanted.” She looks down at her still-flat stomach and smiles to herself.

“So why the hell didn’t you tell me? I know you’re mad and that I hurt you bu–”

“I’m not mad at you, Sawyer. I’m mad at myself. I let things go too far, I overstepped the boundaries of our agreement, and I’m sorry.” She cuts me off and confuses the hell outta me with her apology.

“You're sorry? Darlin’, if you're not mad at me and you’re sorry, why have you been ignoring me? Why keep me in the dark about this? You're sick, you're tired, you shouldn’t be sufferin’ all this by yourself.” I go to touch her again, but think better of it, her rejection stings far too fuckin’ much.

“That was always the plan, Sawyer. You played your part, and for that, I’m always gonna be grateful. The rest is on me now.” Her hand touches over her tummy protectively.

“You know, it don’t have to be that way,” I whisper, hoping that she’s gonna stop being stubborn and let me help her.

“It’s how I want it.” She looks at me so coldly that I feel the chill in my stomach. I wanna yell at her, tell her she’s wrong, demand that she answer all the questions I’ve got, but I also gotta remember that she’s carrying my child.

“Guess I should leave.” I stand up.

“That’s for the best,” she agrees, releasing a steady breath and fixing that brave face on again.

“If ya need anyth–”

“I won’t,” she assures me, and before I let her see how deep she’s cut me, I storm out the door.

“Sawyer, listen, man.” Hayden comes out from another room and starts following, trying to talk to me.

“Not now,” I call back at him, bursting out the door onto the street and heading straight back to the bar.

Beth is sitting dutifully by the bar waiting for my return, and she rises from her stool when she sees that I’ve returned.

“Sawyer, I’m?—”

“Get the fuck out.” I hold the door open for her to leave. She remains still, staring at me as if I’ve just escaped from the fuckin’ zoo. “Isaid,get out!” I yell. Gripping the door so tight in my hand, I feel my body shaking.

“You know what, Sawyer Anderson, one day you're gonna push me too far and I might not bounce back to you.” She snatches up her purse from the bar and storms past me; I slam the door, pick up one of the stools, and launch it across the room.

RILEY

Itoss the trash bag from my wastepaper basket in the dumpster down the alley before making my way back to my office, and lining it with a fresh one. It wasn’t nice seeing how hurt Sawyer looked when he left, but I have no reason to feel guilty. He knew what he was getting into, I couldn’t have made it any clearer. Maybe telling him I’m pregnant would have been the decent thing to do, but I’ve been trying to avoid exactly what just happened.

There’s a knock at my door, and when Harriet peeks her head inside, the awkward smile on her face ensures that I’m not going to like what she has to say. Knowing her, she will have had her ear rested against the door and heard everything that just happened.

“I have Mrs. Walsh out front, she’s insisting that she speak to you,” she informs me, looking like she’s waiting for me to snap. I have to admit that I’ve been more short-tempered than usual these past few weeks with her and Hayden. Just because I can blame hormones now doesn’t mean it’s okay.

“Guess you better send her in.” I take another sip of water and prepare myself for more mindless talk of dog owner etiquette.

“Sheriff Hale.” Mrs. Walsh lowers her head at me when Harriet sees her through. She takes a seat when offered and places her purse on her knees.

“I’m sorry, I have no more to report on the lawn incident. I spoke to all the owners and?—”

“Oh, my dear, that’s not why I’m here.” She looks back toward Harriet and smiles as if prompting her to leave. Harriet takes the hint, retreating and closing the door after her.

“I’m assuming that anything I say here is strictly confidential?” Mrs. Walsh shifts nervously in her seat.

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