Page 3 of The Paths We Cross
“Look out for the people coming up behind us,” I warn Travis.
His face drops when he looks in the rearview mirror. “Tighten your seatbelt,” he orders.
“What?” I ask.
“Tighten it!” He barks as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel.
I do as he says, my eyes wide in fear. “What’s happening?”
“I’m so sorry, Ev,” he rushes out. “This never should have touched you.”
I don’t have time to ask any more questions because three motorcycles surround us and force us off the road. My body feels weightless as the vehicle flies through the air. The last thing I see before everything goes black is the vehicle flipping before we hit the ground.
1
EVERLY
Seven Months Later
The school year ended a month ago and I don’t know what to do with myself, now. We were only a couple of months into the year when the accident happened.When I lost Travis.Being a teacher gave me purpose. My kids gave me purpose.
Since school let out, I’ve been trying to find a new reason for living. Yes, I’m pregnant and my baby should be enough of a reason to get up every morning, and they are.Whatever the baby is. I haven’t let myself find out the sex.
He or she is healthy. That’s the important thing. I’ve made it to every doctor’s appointment and taken every vitamin I’ve been told to take. I’ve exercised and watched what I’ve eaten. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do.By myself.
I never intended to be doing this by myself. Hell, Travis and I hadn’t even planned on doing this until we were married, but I always thought that Travis would be by my side for all of this. I thought he would take me to every appointment and help me decide on the colors and furniture for the nursery.Instead, I haven’t bought a single thing.
I’ve gone to the store a million times, but I can’t bring myself to purchase anything. It’s really weird and I should probably see a therapist. It’s not normal behavior. At least, I don’t think it is. Who knows what is considered normal behavior after bikers run you and your fiancé off the road and he dies but you survive. I don’t think there are many instances like that to go off of.
The police haven’t really told me much. They talked to the man who saved me, and he saw what had happened. He told them the same thing I did. That bikers ran us off the road. The police say that they can’t prove who did it, though. So, the case sits unresolved.Kind of like my life.
The police offered to give me the information of the man who saved my life, but I didn’t need it. The town was spreading all that information before I even got home from the hospital.Rowan Williams.
Not only is he the uncle of one of my students from last year, but he’s the vice president of the Sovereign Sons Motorcycle Club. You would think that would make me terrified of them, since bikers ran me off the road, but I know multiple members. No, the Sovereign Sons aren’t the ones to be afraid of.
I’ve seen Rowan Williams from afar. He’s a big guy. He stands about six foot three with dark hair and eyes, tanned skin, and a strong jaw with a little more than a five o’clock shadow. He’s more muscular than his brother, but other than that, they’re almost identical.
It’s almost lunchtime, so I walk over to my fridge and open the door. The cool air feels amazing on my overheated skin. This is one of the worst parts of being pregnant to me. I’m always hot.
I take in the meager options in my fridge and wince. I haven’t been to the grocery store lately, and it shows. I close the fridge and walk over to the door to grab my purse and slip onsome sandals. I’m in a dress that hugs my bump and although my mother would think it’s not flattering on me, it’s what’s comfortable. Plus, I think my bump is pretty cute.Thanks to my best friend training me to love myself on our almost daily phone calls.
It took me a while to think that way, since I’ve had my mother making comments about my size for my entire life. I’ll admit that when I first started showing, it just looked like I gained weight, but now my bump is round and firm. There’s no denying that I’m pregnant.
I run my hand over my belly as a wave of sadness hits me. Travis will never get to run his hand over my pregnant belly. He’ll never get to feel our baby kick.
I sigh and pull my keys from my bag as I walk into the garage. I climb into my new Kia Telluride and start the engine. After the accident, I decided I needed something bigger to keep me and the baby safe, so I splurged and bought this. It’s black with black leather interior. I probably didn’t need the nicest model I could get, but it made me feel good.
I pull out of the garage and onto the street, making sure to close the garage door behind me. I make the small trek to the grocery store and groan when I see how busy it is. It’s probably not the best time for my easily irritated self to stock up on groceries, but I’m not heading home now.
I find a parking space and slip from my vehicle, locking it and grabbing a cart from the return. I’ll take all the extra help with walking as I can nowadays. I know that sounds terrible since I’m only eight months pregnant, but my hips hurt.Sue me.It’s not like I’m taking one of the motorized carts.Okay, I did once, but when I crashed into a tower of cans, I decided to never do that again.
The sticky North Carolina air clings to me until I walk through the automatic doors and into the blissfully cool store. It’s loud inside with families all over, probably fresh from their church service.
I push my cart through the aisles, picking up things I need, and things I’m craving. When I come to the last aisle, my cart is already full. Coming to the grocery store when you’re hungry is always a bad idea for your wallet. I’m grabbing a bag of Buncha Crunch when I hear someone call my name.
“Ms. Kincaid!”
I turn around and find Asher Williams running towards me with a huge smile on his face. A smile immediately breaks out across my own, matching his as I open my arms wide for him. He throws himself into my embrace, making me release an audible “oomph.”
