Chapter twenty-eight

I've been trying to get a hold of Shorty since we've been in Tennessee, but she hasn't returned any of my calls or responded to my text messages. I'm starting to worry, especially after I asked her to move in with me. She never gave me a definite answer. I can't help but feel disappointment building in my chest.

"I'm sure she's fine."

Ash tries to ease my worry, but it doesn't help.

As soon as we pull up to the house, I notice Mom outside planting flowers in the flower bed. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the car door slam. She smiles big, clearly excited to see us.

Mom gets up from the ground and strolls over to us.

"My babies. How was your trip?" She gives each of us a hug.

Mom and Dad eventually accepted the fact that I was going to be a father and have been supportive.

"Good. Have you seen Shorty?"

"She went home. Her grandmother came back," Mom explains.

I nod and start making my way to the front door when Mom calls out, "I'll make something for you boys to eat."

I wave in acknowledgement and walk into the house and up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time.

Out of habit, I gravitate to Shorty's room. When I push the door open, the bed is made, and all her belongings are gone. Her scent is the only thing left behind.

I walk out of the room and down the stairs with my phone in my hand, ready to dial Shorty's number, when Mom and Dad's hushed voices catch my attention.

I stand outside the kitchen, making sure I'm not seen.

"Charles, we talked about this. You can't make that decision without discussing it with me and especially Donnie," Mom hisses as she slams the cupboard.

"What are you doing?"

"Fuck!" I hiss and turn to Ash, ready to drive my fist in his face. "What the hell, man?"

"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "why are you whispering?" Ash tries to sidestep me, but I yank him back by his collar.

"Don't fucking move," I snarl, already losing my patience.

"What the fuck, D? What the hell is your problem?"

"I'm trying—"

"Sweetheart, this is for the best. Donnie will focus on school, and Sadie will stay behind."

"What?" Irritation surges up inside me as I round the corner into the kitchen.

"Donnie!" Mom screeches, holding her hand over her chest.

"Calm down, son," Dad warns, holding out both hands in front him.

"Calm down? I thought you understood. How can I calm down when you're trying to keep Shorty and my baby from me," I seethe.

"D—" Ash lays his hand on my shoulder, but I brush him off.

"You can't just make decisions about my life without talking to me first, Dad," I yell, unable to hold back my anger.

"You bet your ass I can if it's going to protect your future!" Dad yells back.

"Are you kidding me?" I let out a humorless laugh. "Shorty is coming to live with me. I am going to be there when she has my baby. I'm not fucking leaving her behind!"

"Donovan!" Mom yells in shock.

"No, she is not!" Dad yells, stepping into my space.

I take a step forward, but Ash gets in between us. "You don't have a say in what we do, Dad. She won't stay behind."

"She agrees with me!"

His statement halts me in place. I take a step backward. "What?" I ask, hoping what he's saying is not true.

Dad sighs and runs his hands down his face. "Sadie and I talked the other day—we had a good talk, and we both came to an agreement."

"What kind of agreement?" I feel myself unraveling. I need to get myself under control before I do something stupid like go back to the Pit.

"She agreed to stay here while you attend school in Tennessee. You'll see each other over Facetime, breaks, and holidays. She cares about you and your future, Donnie. She knows how important it is to you. She loves you."

No, she wouldn't do that.

She knows how much I want her to be near me.

She wouldn't take that away from me.

I look to Mom for some hope that Dad is full of shit, but when she turns away, I have my answer.

Anger.

Pain.

Betrayal.

It all spins into one emotion.

I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my hands into fists at my sides. Right now, the Pit sounds like a good fucking idea.

A wave of violent fury rises inside me. I run up the stairs and barge into the guest room. I rip the drawers from the dresser, then I yank the TV off the wall, followed by flipping the mattress upside down. I grab the lamp and fling it against the wall.

When I notice the nightlight in the corner, my legs give out and I collapse to the floor. With my head hanging down and my hands on my knees, I try to catch my breath and stich together the rip in my heart.

The thought of not being near Shorty while she carries my baby is torture.

There's no way in hell I'm going to give her up. I already lost her once. I'll be damned if I am going to let her go.