26. Harley

TWENTY-SIX

HARLEY

Breaking up was always hard. It was a lot harder when it was on the day you were scheduled to get a paternity test. It was even harder when the break up was fake. There'd never been a time in my life when I considered myself a good actor. Now, I was being asked to pretend to break up with Tate, make it believable, and then go running to Emily. Not only that, I had to keep acting like Emily was my bosom buddy. Could I fake cry? Would I need to? It was so stressful to think about it that I had a hard time focusing on what the doctor was saying.

I was sitting on the exam table, holding Tate's hand, the doctor's voice droning on and on. "…a very easy and simple procedure. It's non-invasive and ninety-nine percent accurate. There really is nothing to worry about. You and the baby will be fine."

None of what she'd said before had stuck, but I did understand that part. This was all safe. My baby was safe. That was what mattered the most. Secondarily, I could finally find out, for sure, if Tate really was the father. He was sure, and so was I, but knowing would take more stress out of our lives.

The doctor looked at Tate and smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, there can't be anyone else in the room while we perform the procedure. Mr. Mills will need to exit the room for a bit while we proceed."

Tate's hand tightened on mine. "Well, can't I sort of… stand in the corner? I'll be quiet. I'd really like to be here."

The doctor smiled again. "Again, this is a very safe procedure. No need to worry. Besides, I have a nurse ready to take your oral swab. You can go with her and get that taken care of. Once you're done, it will just be a few more minutes, and we'll be finished. It's simply our policy, I'm sorry."

Tate looked like he was ready to argue, but I gave him a nudge. "Tate, it's fine. It's just some blood. I'll be done in no time. You go on."

He looked at me and nodded. He gave me a quick kiss before leaving with a nurse. After worrying so much about it, I was a little surprised at how easy it was. Anticlimactic, in fact. All she did was take a vial of blood. If I'd known it would be that simple, I probably would have argued for Tate to stay.

The doctor labeled the blood vial and patted my arm. "All done. You need to rest, and not stress about anything. We should have results in a few days."

Tate and I met in the hallway after we were both done. I asked, "How was yours?"

He raised his eyebrows. "She put that swab halfway down my throat. Not very pleasant, but I've experienced worse."

We stepped into the elevator. We were alone, and Tate said, "Are you good with the plan? The story seem believable?"

"I think so."

"Okay, we have to remember, if she doesn't bite, I'll need to stay at my place for a few nights. We'll have to make it look real in case she's watching. Don't worry, I promise I'll have extra eyes on you to make sure you're safe. You will be okay. No matter what."

He pulled me close and kissed me long and hard, making my knees weak. It was almost like a goodbye kiss. That wasn't what I wanted, but I knew the next part would be difficult. It was his way of telling me he didn't mean any of what he was about to say. It was hard to hide the smile on my face when he pulled away.

The elevator doors opened, and he held me back, leaning out and looking around the foyer of the doctor's office. Then he leaned back in, and said, "Show time."

He stiffened, and a look of irritation and anger masked his face as he stomped away from me. I followed a few seconds later, already caught off guard by what a good job he was doing. Tate slammed his hands into the glass door and shoved it open. Every motion of his body exuded anger. He was intimidating like this, but I did my best to channel my inner movie star and pushed through the door with what I thought was a moderate reenactment of how he'd gone out.

The doctor's office was in a building right on Main Street. Lilly Valley was a small town, and most of the activity was located here. A strange combination of terror and excitement filled me when I saw how many people were out and about walking by. Excitement that there would be plenty of witnesses to our ‘break up' and terror at how many people were going to watch as Tate and I pretended to nuke our relationship.

Tate spun on a heel and pointed at me. "You know what? I think it's horseshit you even asked me to do this damned test. Christ, if you'd been on the pill, we wouldn't even be worrying about this."

He seemed so angry that it took me a second to screw up my courage and reply. "Well, no one held a gun to your head and told you not to put on a condom. We both screwed up, don't pin it all on me."

Tate scoffed sarcastically. "Oh, okay. It's like that? Obviously one of us is at fault. Shit, I'm the one in here getting fucking DNA taken to prove I'm the father. How many guys did you fuck anyway? Jesus."

He was acting, but his words seemed so vitriolic that I actually felt a little hurt, and responded waspishly. "Well, if you're sticking your dick in every woman who walks by without putting a condom on, maybe I need to get another type of test."

A ghost of a smile flashed across Tate's face. He was fighting a laugh. He pulled himself under control and deepened his scowl. It was nice to see. I'd been ready to cry until then. We were being mean and nasty to each other. It felt like we were saying all the hateful things we wanted to say months ago when things had been awkward. Like it had all built up and was exploding right here and now. That trace of a smile kept me grounded, but there was still an ache in my chest.

"You don't even want this baby. Admit it. You just want to duck out on your responsibilities and do nothing. That's a shitty way to be a father."

People up and down the street had stopped to watch and gawk at our screaming match. I hoped Emily was watching. This was rough, and I hoped it was all worth it. Tate took three big steps backward and put his arms out to his sides, like he was being crucified.

He screamed, "You know what? You're right. Fuck off. Get out of my life, never talk to me again. You and that brat in your belly."

He spun on a heel and stomped away, jumping into his truck down the street and laying a strip of rubber on the road as he roared off. We were acting, it was a show, I knew that. The problem was, we'd done a really good job, and my body was pulsing with hormones, and I was still stressed beyond belief. Which meant that, despite me worrying if I could cry fake tears, I started sobbing and sank to my knees right on the sidewalk.

My hands fumbled at my purse, trying to dig out my cell phone to call Emily. The plan had always been for Tate to leave me stranded, making himself look like a total asshole. What no one else saw or knew was that Steff was waiting in an unmarked car in a nearby parking lot to swoop in and pick me up if Emily didn't take the bait. It made it a little better knowing that someone who knew what was going on was watching me, making sure I was safe.

Finally pulling the phone free, I dialed Emily's number. I prayed for her to answer as I wiped tears and snot off my face with a tissue from my purse.

When I was about to give up, she answered. "Harley?"

Obviously still crying, I said, "Emily? I need help. Tate's gone."

There was a long pause before she said, "What do you mean gone?"

"We had a fight. It was awful. He blew up at me and left me here at the doctor's office. He said he didn't want anything to do with me or the baby. I need you." My voice was clogged from the tears, and I was shockingly proud of my performance. "Please, can you come give me a ride? I don't have any way to get home. I'm so alone."

"Oh, sweetie. I'll be there soon. Just wait for me, okay?"

"Okay," I said miserably.

Hanging up, I stared at the phone, astounded that the plan was actually working. She was coming. I wiped the tears away, as I wasn't upset anymore, and sat on the sidewalk. The bystanders had all gone back to going about their business. Several folks looked like they were ready to ask if I needed help. I was torn, because they were being nice, but I was also lying. I didn't want some good Samaritan to use up a good deed on an act. I was both happy and sad that no one ended up checking on me. It was strange.

While I waited, my phone buzzed, and a single text from Tate came through: I feel terrible about saying all that, but I think we did a good job selling it. Are you okay?

I typed back: All good. Emily is on the way. We should be in the movies lol.

He sent me back a laughing face emoji. We were okay. Thank goodness. It made me feel better, but I also knew Emily would be there soon, so I tried to get my face back to the wretched mask of sadness and misery I'd had a few minutes ago.

Emily pulled up about fifteen minutes after I'd called. She nearly leaped out of her car and ran around to me. She knelt and helped me up.

"Oh my God. That piece of shit, I can't believe he did this to you," she said, wrapping me in a hug.

She let me go and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me to her car. She was supposed to get arrested. The cops had to be around here somewhere. They were probably waiting on Steff's word to run in and take her into custody. What if they were farther away than that, though? If I was in the car and driving away, it would be really hard to arrest her. I stopped right as she opened the passenger door.

"Emily, it's okay. I need a few minutes to get myself under control," I said.

She took my shoulder and not so roughly pushed me into the car. "You're distraught. You need a ride. I'm not letting my friend go through this alone in public. Let's go."

Emily closed the door behind me. I surreptitiously checked the handle, and a spike of fear hit me when I found the child locks were on. I couldn't open the door. My eyes were big as saucers by the time she circled the car and jumped in. This was not part of the plan. Where was Steff? Where were the cops and Tate? Emily's tires squealed as she pulled away from the curb.

One last glance back told me I was on my own. My heart pounded. Emily was a scam artist. She milked old people out of their money. She didn't kill anyone, she wasn't violent. At least, I hoped she wasn't.

"Um… where are we going?" I asked, as she passed the turn that I would usually use to go home.

Ignoring my question, she punched the steering wheel, making me jump. "Filthy damned animals. Disgusting. I can't believe this."

Her voice was almost out of control, vibrating with anger and… what? Revulsion? The car slowly ticked up in speed. Going from thirty, to fifty, then to seventy miles an hour. Stealing glances at her, I clutched at the armrest and wrapped another hand around my growing belly.

Emily continued staring out the window and mumbled, "They all need to be eradicated. A full cleansing of the earth. It's all they deserve." Snapping out of her strange trance, she turned to me and said, "I'm so sorry. This isn't how I wanted all this to go."

"For… what? How what was supposed to go?" I asked, my fear building with every second. She seemed unhinged.

Emily shook her head and chuckled ruefully. She looked back at the road, and I noticed something impossible. Her hands. I had to be hallucinating. All the little creases in Emily's knuckles were glowing. Almost like light was shining through them. I blinked, and instead of the light disappearing, it seemed to have spread. Now, the light was faintly radiating from both her hands. What the hell was going on? The world had taken on a surreal quality. So much so that I dug my nails into my leg, hoping to wake myself up from whatever fevered dream I was in. Unfortunately, I was already awake.

"This is all my fault," Emily said, sounding apologetic. "It's my fault that piece of shit found you."

Snapping my head toward her, I said, "Luis?"

"No," she said, exasperated. "Tate. He would have never found you if it wasn't for me. You'd have gone your whole life without ever knowing it was even alive. But I forced it to find you."

Nothing made sense, and why was she calling Tate It ? Already I was wondering if, maybe, Miles had been wrong. Had she done more than steal money? Was she dangerous? My God, what if she was a serial killer or something? Every word she was saying sounded insane. I continued to huddle close to the door, putting as much space between Emily and myself as I could. Then the car picked up a little more speed, and I swallowed hard. We were rushing into the mountains, the wilderness.

"Don't worry, Harley, I'm going to take care of everything. Tate will be the first to pay. I'll make sure of it."

"Wha… what does that mean, Emily?"

She looked at me, her eyes wild with rage and anger, psychotic eyes that sent shivers of terror into my soul. This was not the woman I'd gotten to know over the last few months. This was some other person entirely.

She hissed, "Every shifter, every single one of them, needs to be eradicated."

"What the hell is a shif?—"

Before I could finish my question, I felt a thump behind us as the car was rear ended. A short yelp burst out of my mouth, and I tugged at my seatbelt, only to realize I hadn't buckled it. I clicked it home and looked at Emily. She was checking her mirror, her teeth bared like an animal.

"You know, you've got shit taste in men, sweetie. First, you fuck a gangster, then you bed a damned shifter. You've got to try better, Harley."

There it was again. What the hell was a shifter? Emily was deranged, that was the only explanation. Before she could say anything else, another car shot in front of us. It wasn't the car that had hit us. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see it was a white van, but the windshield was too dark for me to see the driver. I recognized the car in front of us as Steff's car. I took a breath, knowing he was here. I wasn't alone, but why just him? Where the hell were the cops? They'd said the cops would be nearby.

Emily leaned on the steering wheel and screamed at her windshield, "You'll all pay. All of you animals." Spit flew from her lips and spattered the glass as she screamed, fully unhinged now.

Another car slammed into the back of us. Emily's hands slipped from the wheel as we were pushed into the car in front of us. Steff's rear end spun around, and he slid off onto the shoulder. Our car began to spin out of control, pushed along by the car behind us. My hands dug into the upholstery, my teeth bared, bracing for impact. We were going at least seventy when the rear tires went off the road, and hit a tree stump. The car lifted, and we flipped through the air. I wrapped my arms around my belly, asking every God there might be in the universe to save my baby.

As my stomach did barrel rolls while the car spun in the air, a strange pulse of energy burst through the car. It rippled through, and it almost was like the air itself became thick and viscous. The car's flip slowed and then stopped. While we were still in the air. I opened my eyes and saw Emily, her hands thrust out, glowing like miniature suns. Sweat beaded on her face and dripped down her cheeks. She looked like she was straining hard, almost as though she was holding the car up herself, but that was impossible––as equally impossible as the glow of her hands. Knowing that my mind must have snapped, I leaned back as the car slowly lowered to the ground and came to rest against a tree that we'd been about to slam into when… whatever it was had happened.

My breath hissed in and out of my lungs like I'd run a marathon. I looked at Emily. She was slumped over. If I felt like I'd run a marathon, she looked like she'd actually run three or four in a row. She looked absolutely exhausted.

"Emily?" I gasped. "What in the hell just happened."

Emily lifted her head as though it weighed a hundred pounds. Her eyes were half-lidded. She opened her mouth to speak, but she never got the words out. Her groggy eyes snapped open in surprise. Instead of speaking, I heard her scream, then I heard the passenger window behind me shatter. Before I could turn, a hand slid around my head. A gloved hand pressed something against my face. I slapped at the hand once, and then everything went dark.