Page 42 of Finding Us Again

Katie, what’s wrong?

KATIE

Other than I may be carrying a psychopath’s baby, not a damn thing.

LIAM

I’ll clear my schedule, and yes, I will meet you at the ambulance bay doors like yesterday.

I sat down heavily on the side of the bed. The laptop screen still lit up. Liam had sent a photo of the test results. Results of a test I’d not known she’d taken. The photo appeared to grow and grow until it filled the screen.

The longer I stared at those results, the more wigged out I became. Pop Rocks filled my head, causing my limbs to tingleand go numb. The laptop slipped from my lifeless fingers, hitting the rug under the bed with a soft thud before slamming shut.

Oh God!

My chin trembled, and vibrations took over my body as every emotion I could feel slammed into me all at once. My head dropped into my hands. Tears fell silently. Some ran down my arms, while others dripped onto the towel I had wrapped around my waist when I got out of the shower.

KATIE

I had a PT appointment. I brought Marcie, Lucia, and Hayden with me.

Another lie. She had PT on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s Monday. She was supposed to be done with PT last week.

JACKSON

I thought you were done with PT last week.

“Fuck this shit,” I growled, tossing my phone on the bed, not waiting on her to answer.

The test results were an omission.

Same fucking thing.

I stood and whipped the towel off. I used it to clean up my face as I walked into the closet, pulling clothes off the racks and dumping them into my backpack. I grabbed my charger and toiletries. Once my bag was packed, I pulled on the leathers I rode in when I wasn’t on the track and walked down the back stairs.

At the bottom step, the sounds of the family laughing and joking with one another washed over me. Usually, it would bring asmile and warm my heart, but not today. Not while my world was spinning out of control yet again.

I turned away from them, slipped silently out the back door, and headed to the garage. I started the bike and grabbed my helmet and gloves when I got there. As I strapped down my duffel, my conscience rebuked me. When I started pulling my gloves on, my conscience won out over my need to flee, getting the best of me as I pulled them on.

I promised I wouldn’t run from her.

Well, I can’t fucking stay.

I set my helmet and gloves down on the workbench. I lean back against the bench with my arms crossed over my chest, chewing on the “should I” or “shouldn’t I” like a piece of fatty meat until it made me gag with indecision.

Before I could come to any conclusion, two texts came in.

MORGAN

Hey man! Do you think you can head to PA today? I need some help.

KATIE

No. I have PT the rest of the week to make up the days I’ll miss for the wedding.

I sent Morgan a response first. I wasn’t sure how to respond to my girl just yet.

JACKSON

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