Page 129 of The Catalyst

“Casey,” I mutter her name, and her head snaps around, her body relaxing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…intrude, but you said to come to you if I needed help. I had nowhere else to go. Martin knows me too well. He knows anywhere else I would go, and his father won’t listen to me. He just won’t fucking listen! My body, my choice. My body, myfuckingchoice!” Her words all run together so tightly that I can barely understand the words coming out of her mouth.

“Casey!” Gripping her arms in my hands, I stop her pacing and gain her attention. “Take a breath and tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t have the full picture, okay?”

She takes a slow, deep breath, filling her lungs before slowly releasing the air, then her eyes open, pleading with me. “They want me to have an abortion.”

I blanched for a moment at her words. “You’re pregnant?”

She nods. “By Martin.” Her bottom lip trembles.

It’s a knife to the chest as I flinch.

I was not expecting this, but really, whatdidI expect? I told Martin I was going back to Nigel. We weren’t even dating, not officially anyway. He was fully within his right to start things back up with Casey, but some stupid part of me thought he might wait.

Martin Gray may be one of the best men I’ve ever known, but he’s still just a man.

“I thought he would be okay with it, but he freaked when I told him about the baby. His parents got involved, and they demanded I have an abortion. They said abastard childwas the last thing they needed, and if I ever wanted to be a part of their family, I needed to put them first. I tried reasoning with them. I’m okay with getting married to hide that I got pregnant out of wedlock. I come from a religious family so, I totally get it, but they wouldn’t budge. Nolan said if I don’t do it, he’ll drag me to a clinic kicking and screaming and force them to do it. They want to take my baby away from me. Please, Beth. I don’t know what to do.”

Nolan? Is that Martin’s father?

In this situation, my mother would have a lot to say. She would say abortion is againstourreligion and a sin, but she would also say it’s a family matter and not to get involved.

Iaminvolved. Casey came to me, and I could never turn her away, knowing how much she needs help. Plus, this is Martin’s baby. My involvement is more than skin deep.

I’m not against abortion, but I do believe that Casey has the right to make that choice herself. No one should ever be forced into something like that, and I’m pretty sure anyone on either side of the Pro-Choice/Pro-Life debate would agree with me on that front.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask.

Casey flinches at my question. “Don’t make me answer that. I love Martin, and I don’t want anything to happen to him or anyone he cares about.”

“Not Martin,” I press. “I meant his father. Did he hurt you?”

She just stares at me, pleading in her eyes for me not to push any more.

I sigh with irritation. All she has to do is tell me and he would be on the chopping block. Then, Martin would also be safe. I get it, though. I have hidden abuse to protect people, too.

Casey grew up in Grove Hill. She may not know what the Bastards do to people, but she knows that something will happen if she confirms that he has hurt her physically. She wants to protect him, and I can’t fault her for that. I did the same thing for my mom.

“Okay. Do you have any family out of state?”

“No. All of my family and friends are here.”

“Give me a minute to figure something out, okay?”

She nods, and I make a bunch of calls before coming up with a plan of action for Casey.

* * *

Teigan’s familydoesn’t have much, but they know I’m desperate if I call for help. They agreed to house Casey until she has her baby, and then they’ll help her get her own place. When I explained the situation to Nigel, he demanded more information, but there’s only so much I can give out. I’m not involved other than helping Casey escape the Gray patriarch’s clutches.

If I could help Martin escape, too, I would.

Nigel gave me the keys to his truck so I could take Casey to the bus station downtown, and the drive was uneventful.

“Thank you,” she whispers in the silent cab as we pull up to the Greyhound station, and she hugs the small backpack I gave her with a few essentials since she couldn’t go home to her father’s trailer.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

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