Page 21 of The Sinner’s Touch (Manwhore #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

She stared at the stick, willing it to show her a result.

She’d been arguing with herself for weeks, but when her period didn’t show up for a second month, she bit the bullet and bought a pregnancy test. Combined with her queasy stomach that never seemed to go away and her ability to sleep at the drop of hat, Jasmine told her to get herself to Walgreens and buy a test.

The clerk at the drugstore had given her that knowing look, and Angel told her where she could stick that condescending expression.

She hated when people looked at her like that, like she was worth less than a normal person.

Yes, she wasn’t married, and she might be knocked up, but so what?

The world today was full of unwed mothers.

Her body went cold at the thought. All the bravado in the world wasn’t going to change facts.

She wasn’t married, and she might be a single mother.

She was only nineteen. How could she be anybody’s mother when she barely knew how to take care of herself?

She was a stripper, for God’s sake. Pregnant women didn’t strip.

What would she do? Get a job flipping burgers?

Every cliché scenario she could think of ran a marathon race through her head.

The toilet seat caught her when she sank down, her knees going weak. What was she going to do? She was barely an adult, just learning about life. How was she going to take care of a tiny human? One who depended on her for everything? Hell, she barely depended on herself.

What was she going to do if that test came back positive?

A baby.

A tiny human.

Her hand went to her stomach.

A tiny little life growing inside her.

She picked up the stick again. Nothing. Stupid thing.

What would she tell Kade? She used birth control, dammit. They used condoms. There was no way she could be pregnant.

Only there was. When she’d had the stomach flu and skipped her birth control for three days because she’d been too sick to keep anything down.

Then there was that one time in the shower.

One time. Only one freaking time they hadn’t used a condom, and she’d promised him it would be okay because she was on the pill, not thinking about the previous week.

Oh, God, would the birth control pills hurt the baby? She’d been taking them religiously since then. Could they cause birth defects?

What if Kade was furious? What if he told her to fuck off and he didn’t want any part of it?

She didn’t see him as that kind of person, but they’d only been dating for six months.

There was still so much she didn’t know about him, so much he refused to talk about.

Whenever she tried to talk to him about his family or his past, he shut her down.

Never in a mean way, but in a joking manner, and changed the subject.

What if he wasn’t the man she thought he was? What if he was like the boys she knew who would run screaming from the situation?

Did she even want the baby? There were options.

Abortion was out of the question, though.

She respected other women’s right to choose, but it was abhorrent to her.

Adoption was still an open option. If things didn’t work out between her and Kade, adoption could be a solution.

A baby deserved a real home with a parent or parents who could give it everything it needed. She wasn’t sure that was her.

Angel grew up with parents who loved her, who sacrificed everything for her and Peter.

They had been their parents’ entire world.

Could she do that for her child? Could she be that unselfish?

Or would she hate the restrictions the baby put on her?

She’d seen what happened to the girls in high school who’d gotten knocked up.

Some of them grew to resent their kids because of how much they had to give up.

The last thing she could bear would be to resent her own flesh and blood.

This was driving her crazy. Still no lines on the stick. Had it been fifteen minutes yet? Her watch laughed at her. Eight minutes.

“Out of the bathroom, Angel! I have to get ready for a date.”

Peter pounded on the door, and she ignored him.

What was she going to tell her brother? He’d sacrificed everything for her.

And here she went and got herself knocked up like every other idiot girl who thought it would never happen to her.

She took precautions, dammit, and it still might have happened to her.

Three more minutes ticked by, and she got up and looked at her pale face in the mirror.

Tears made wet tracks down her cheeks under red, swollen eyes.

How could she be crying without even realizing it?

Her breathing slowed, and it became harder and harder to pull air into her lungs.

Spots danced in front of her eyes, and she fought for air.

What was happening to her? She gripped the edge of the counter to try to stay upright as the world tilted and started to spin. She blinked several times, a whimper escaping. Panic clawed at her throat, and she fell back, unable to stop her legs from folding beneath her.

The resulting crash brought her brother pounding on the door. “Angel? You okay? What happened? Did you fall?”

She tried to say something, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

“Angel? Answer me, dammit!”

She drew in a strangled breath as Peter rattled the door handle. It had to be a panic attack.

Peter’s shoulder hit the bathroom door, and it burst inward, hitting her left arm with such force, she fell sideways.

“Oh, my God, Angel. What’s wrong?”

He pulled her up, and she winced when he grasped her arm.

Damn, but it hurt enough to penetrate the panic.

She took a few small breaths and concentrated on breathing, telling herself over and over that she was okay.

She made herself focus on the throbbing pain in her arm.

Slowly, the world stopped spinning and she could breathe.

She blinked several times, ignoring Peter’s attempts to get her to speak.

Her gaze zeroed in on the little white stick that had rolled off the countertop when she’d fallen.

One line meant she wasn’t pregnant.

Two lines meant a tiny human nestled under her heart.

She leaned forward and grasped it, closing her eyes. If she looked, that meant it was real. If she simply refused to look, she could go on like nothing was wrong, like nothing had changed.

“Angel, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

She thrust the little white stick at him, unable to look. “What does it say?”

Bewildered, he looked down. “Uh, it doesn’t say anything?”

“How many lines, Peter? How many lines are there?”

Please don’t say it, please don’t say it, please don’t say it.

“Two lines.”

She sagged against the wall. He said it.

A tiny human.

“Is this a pregnancy test?”

She nodded, refusing to look at him. What if he looked at her like that stupid cashier had? With scorn, derision, and condemnation?

“Two lines means what?”

“A baby.”

He sat on the floor next to her and leaned his head against hers. “You okay?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t okay. She was never going to be okay again. “I’m scared, Peter. I can’t do this.”

“It’s a scary thing, that’s for sure,” he agreed.

“What am I gonna do?” The waterworks burst, and she started to cry, her breath coming out in loud sobs. Her brother pulled her into his lap and rocked her like their dad used to do when she got hurt. He let her cry until she was spent.

“It’s okay, Angel. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

His soothing words washed over Angel, and it calmed her down a bit. “I’m too young to be a mom.”

“Yeah, you’re young, but Mom was a year younger when she had me. I think you’re selling yourself short, kid.”

“But what if I don’t want to be a mom?” she whispered, and her stomach cramped up in protest. Shit, could the nugget hear her? No, surely not. It didn’t even have a brain right now, did it? She had no idea.

Peter stilled, but only for a moment. “I’ll support whatever you want to do. If you don’t want this pregnancy, I’ll go down to the clinic with you, and we’ll face it together. I’m here, kid. Whatever you want, I’m here.”

Angel knew for a fact how he felt about abortion, but he was telling her it was okay if that was what she decided.

She hugged him tighter. Despite his own personal beliefs, he put her ahead of himself.

That was what brothers were for. That was what he’d done her whole life.

He stepped in and did what needed to be done.

“No, Peter. No abortion. I won’t do that.”

His whole body sighed with relief. “Okay, kiddo. Then we’ll deal with it. Have you told Kade?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Don’t you think you need to?”

“What if he acts like an ass and walks away?” She hiccupped.

“Then I’ll beat the shit out of him, and we’ll never worry about the bastard again. Uncle Peter will make sure the kid never misses a good-for-nothing absent father.”

He always knew just what to say to make her laugh when she was crying. God, what would she do without her big brother?

“Do you really think I can do this?” Peter handed her some tissue he’d snagged from the roll, and she blew her nose. “What if I screw up? I might hurt it accidentally or something.”

“You will screw up. Mom and Dad screwed up. I screwed up all the time ? —”

“You did not,” she interrupted. “You were always there, doing exactly what I needed.”

“I was terrified. Every second after Mom and Dad died. Constantly worrying about you, if I was doing what I was supposed to. Remember that first temper tantrum you threw over me grounding you for skipping school? I was so scared you’d hate me forever.”

“I only hated you for about an hour.”