Page 87 of Illicit Heir

I feel as lost as ever. I try to pull myself together and go back into the other room.

His thug has his phone to his ear. "All right, boss." He hangs up and looks at me. "I have to put your furniture in storage."

"Storage? What storage?" Mum demands.

The man shrugs. "Whatever storage unit the O'Connors tell me to put it in." He spins and leaves, shutting the door.

Mum turns on me. "What just happened in the bedroom?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"What did ya do in there?" she questions.

I shake my head. "Nothing. I just needed a minute. I didn't want to cry in front of him."

She narrows her eyes, and the same look she gave me the night before returns. "I want to know how ya knew to keep me out of the pub last night, Lauren."

I fib, "I didn't. Stop asking me about this."

She steps closer. "Since when do ya lie to me, Lauren?"

"I'm not," I insist.

She puts her hand on my cheek. "It can't be a coincidence ya sent me and the others home."

"That was so Emily and I could make better tips," I declare.

Her face falls. "After everything that's happened, losing the pub and now being under the O'Connor's control, you're going to stand there and say these untruths to me."

Guilt eats me. I start to speak, but a wave of nausea hits me so hard I put my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom. I throw up in the toilet, then sit back against the wall and grab a towel. I wipe my mouth.

Mum stares at me in the doorway. "How long have ya been sick, Lauren?"

I shake my head. "I'm not. I've just... I had some nausea the last few days. I'm sure it's due to stress. But I'm fine," I insist.

Mum steps closer and crouches down. She grabs my chin and stares at me.

Anxiety fills me. "Why are ya staring at me like that?"

Horror fills her face. "Oh, sweet Jesus. Tell me you're not pregnant."

A wave of shock crashes through me.

Pregnant? What is she talking about?

I blurt out, "Of course I'm not pregnant."

"When did ya last have sex with Caleb?" Mum questions.

"Mum!"

"Tell me!"

"Before we broke up! I haven't touched him, nor would I, even though ya want me to," I accuse, taking my anger over the entire situation and hurling it at her.

She sighs, rises, then leans against the sink. "Are ya sure you're not pregnant?"

"Yea," I affirm, trying to sound as confident as possible, but a new fear swallows me.

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