Page 82 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

I stopped pacing and shot her a glare. “You said we were covered.”

“And I was wrong.”

Wrong? Wrong was so mild a word for this situation. This was my worst nightmare. This was everything I never wanted to feel again barreling down on me so fast I couldn’t breathe.

How could she have let this happen? How could I have let this happen? I should have taken more precautions. I should have insisted on condoms.

I should have never trusted Piper.

“Did you do this on purpose?” I asked. “Did you just use me because your husband couldn’t give you a kid?”

My words slapped her so hard, her entire body flinched. “You asshole. How could you even think that about me?”

“Can you blame me? It seems awfully convenient for you. You use me and get what you always wanted.”

“Fuck you.” Her face turned hard as stone. The spark in her eyes died, and she looked at me like I was nothing but the dust under her expensive shoes.

She could glare at me all she wanted because I didn’t give a fuck. I had a right to ask these questions. I had a right to know the extent of her betrayal.

Because after all, that’s what everyone did, didn’t they?

They betrayed me.

“I didn’t plot this.” Her voice was cold. “Do you think I want to have a baby with a man who I’ve known for only months? A man who I know nothing about? A man who is so determined to keep me out that he won’t even sleep in my bed after he fucks me? This is not the ideal situation, believe me. But it’s happening.”

It was happening.

It was happening all over again.

“I’m sorry for dropping this on you.” Piper squared her shoulders. “It was just as big a shock to me. But I won’t lie and say I don’t want this baby. I’m going to give you some time. We can talk later.”

Her footsteps grew distant as she made her way to the door. When they disappeared, I gave into the crushing pain and dropped to my knees.

I couldn’t go through this again.

I couldn’t.

So I shut it all out, like I’d taught myself to do years ago. I let the numbness soak into my bones. I let the darkness chase away the fear and pain. I let the light Piper had brought into my life be smothered by the black.

My knees were bruised by the time I shoved myself off the floor, then mindlessly walked home. I pushed open the door, but my feet wouldn’t go inside. The haven I’d built up here wasn’t safe anymore. It was tainted with memories of Piper.

I saw her sitting at my table, eating magic cake. I saw her in my living room, appraising my furniture with a quiet smile. I saw her in the kitchen, making me cinnamon rolls.

I pictured her, pregnant with our child, trapped in a crumpled car as life seeped out of her body in a crimson stream.

The need to flee hit me hard and I backed away from the door.

The same need had consumed me three years ago, after a funeral.

I’d left my entire life behind in the middle of the night, never looking back. I drove aimlessly until I got so tired, my drooping eyelids forced me to stop. I slept in my truck on the side of the highway, and the next morning when I woke up, I saw the sign welcoming me to Lark Cove.

It was as good a place as any to get lost.

For weeks, I ignored countless messages from Mom begging me to return home. I asked a buddy to take care of my house. Rent it. Sell it. Burn it down. I didn’t care. And I begged the landlord of my former shop to get out of my lease, then ship me my tools.

I used their pity as leverage. It made running away all too easy because they all agreed to help me without question.

I endured being a part of society for as long as it took to find and close on my house. Then I shut out the world for the worst few months of my life.