Page 24 of Happenstance
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll cut my way through everyone you care about.”
The flatness of his statement was terrifying. Still, I opened my mouth to argue, “If you think you can bully me–” Once again he cut me off.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” His hand slammed down, stabbing the letter opener into the top of my dresser, “I don’t bully. I don’t make threats, and I don’t taunt people on the playground. Before you decide to play this game with me, I want you to remember one thing,” Preston walked over to my bedroom door and placed his hand on the doorknob, “Death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to someone.”
And then he was gone, just as quickly as he had appeared.
Chapter 8
Lana
My mind was a raging storm of thoughts the next day. The summons Parker gave me–which I still had to tell Nan about– was going to befun.Nan didn’t like Lillianna Whitley on a good day, and now, thanks to me, she was going to be linked to her forever. Sean would definitely be a better choice in Nan’s eyes. She wasn’t fond of Nash Callaghan, but she could at least tolerate him. I was with her on that one. Harper’s dad was way too strict, in my opinion. With Harper at least. Sean had a lot more freedom. He was allowed to come and go as he pleased. Harper needed permission to cross the street.
Half the time Nash was at home, he spent arguing with Sean, who felt his sister had the right to her own life. Which once again made me wonder if I was crazy? I was so sure Sean had attacked me, and was just too drunk to remember. I’d seen him so trashed he’d forgotten where he was. So, I mean, it was possible. But then again, maybe I was the one that was too drunk?
It felt like I was going in circles. So much so, that the world around me spun with my thoughts. Honestly, I was amazed I made it to breakfast without falling down. The second I saw Nan’s smiling face, something else flooded my thoughts. Coffins, dead bodies and funerals.
Preston wasn’t the kind of guy that made idle threats. When he said if I didn’t come to an amicable agreement with Parker, that the people I cared about would pay the price, he meant it. And by agreement, he meant whatever made Parker happy. Because I could guarantee Preston didn’t give a shit what I wanted. God forbid I wasn’t crazy, and this baby wasn’t Parker’s. We’d all be dead if that were the case. Either way, there was no good outcome here. Not that I could see. I was well and truly fucked.
“We have an appointment with the doctor at four, so I’ll pick you up after school.”
Shit.Well, here goes nothing.
“Actually, we have to rebook that.”
I carefully slid the summons across the table and gave Nan a nervous smile. Her brow tipped up in her ‘what are you up to’ look as she picked up the paper. I remained quiet and just watched her read it. The instant she came across the last name Whitley, I knew. Her face morphed from suspicion, to shock, and settled on the most unimpressed glare I’d ever seen on a human being.
Holding my breath, I waited for the inevitable lecture. Nan always told me not to hate people. That it was an ugly emotion not worthy of the time and energy. Except when it came to Lillianna Whitley. I could feel the ugly waves of contempt that filled the room. It weighed me down more than the possibility of my baby’s DNA. I could either make Nan mad, or Sean dead.
When Nan quietly got up and began digging through one of the drawers, I thought for sure I was getting the wooden spoon. I used to bury them in the backyard when I was a kid, hoping that would alleviate my punishments. It didn’t. Nan just went out and bought some more. Something that never occurred to my naive childhood mind. Apparently not much had changed over the years. I did sleep with Parker Whitley, after all. How smart was that choice?
Instead of a wooden spoon, Nan held up a business card. Which made my brows rise. Why wasn’t she yelling at me?
“Nan?” I called out as she picked up the phone.
She didn’t even look at me when she answered. Just said, “Yes, Lana?” while she typed in a number.
I think we were the only house in Ashen Springs to still have a landline. And not the cordless type, either, because that would be too much technology for Nan to handle. For at least a month after I finally convinced her to let me get a cellphone, she was suspicious of it. She’d whisper whenever I was around, in case someone could hear us. Despite how much I told her otherwise, she was convinced it worked like a walkie talkie. She still stared at it suspiciously.
“What are you doing, Nan?”
“Calling Mr. Craig.”
“The funeral home guy?” That really made my brows rise. “Why?”
“Because you, child, are going to land me in an early grave.”
Oh my God.
Nan always did have a flare for the dramatic. “Nan, it’s not the end of the world.”
“You tell me that when that witch does something horrible to my great-grandchild.”
“She won’t do anything. It's her grandchild too.”Hopefully.
Nan hung up the phone and rolled her eyes my way. “Do you think that matters to a woman like her?”
