Dirty Damage: Chapter 53

I’m losing the baby.

There’s a tragic poetry to it, really. I’ve lost the father; why not the baby, too?

But despite my body and mind telling me that perhaps this is the universe’s way of saying that Oleg and I were never meant to be, my heart and soul are telling me something else entirely.

I want this baby.

I can’t lose it.

Please don’t let me lose it.

I stare down at the text Mara sent me fifteen minutes ago, complete with a smiley face and a bunch of heart emojis. Mara’s not an emoji texter. The fact that I’ve gotten so many is a surefire sign that she’s worried about me.

She doesn’t know about the pregnancy, though.

She doesn’t know about the bleeding that started sometime in the middle of last night.

Just a few red spots to start with. I’d written it off as stress.

But then this morning, there were more spots. Bright red. Almost blinding.

I’d scoured the internet but it did nothing to calm me down. Breakthrough bleeding isn’t always serious. But it can be.

It can be.

And that’s enough to send me on a downward spiral.

MARA: Hey hon. You doing okay? 🙂 How about we grab lunch during my work break? I think you need an outing. <3 <3

Maybe an outing can counteract my downward spiral. Maybe some fresh air and a walk is all I need to alleviate the burning in my chest.

I probably should see a doctor, but for some reason, if it’s bad, I don’t want to know just yet.

At least I can stay pregnant for a few more hours.

SUTTON: How about the smoothie bar? I’m gonna head over there in a bit. Join me whenever you’re on your break.

I grab my bag and make the ten-minute walk to the smoothie bar. It’s a balmy day, the breeze riffling through my hair like warm fingers. Every corner I turn, I feel as though someone is watching me.

At least I know it’s not Oleg.

Every time I blink, I can see his face—the heartless way he looked away from me as he ordered me out of his home and his life.

Was it ever a possibility that we would live in that gorgeous mansion by the water?

Was raising a family there together ever real?

It feels like some sort of cruel joke. A carrot the universe dangled in front of me before taking it back.

Silly, stupid Sutton. That kind of life is not for grubby little orphan girls with no family and no future.

You’re a Palmer Woman, remember? You don’t get things that nice.

I blink back tears as I make the last turn to the smoothie bar.

My hand falls instinctively over my stomach. I can’t be losing this baby. Not when I can feel him or her so deeply inside me.

Surely, that has to mean something.

Surely, it means that the universe, in all its viciousness, is offering me this one consolation prize.

You will never have everything, but you will give everything to your child.

My feet hit the pavement in a steady click-clack, click-clack. And with every step, I can hear it echoed in someone else’s.

I turn twice, just to make sure I’m not being followed but there’s no one behind me except for a startled old lady who starts walking in the opposite direction the second time I glance behind my shoulder.

Great. I’m scaring old ladies now.

Feels like a fitting conclusion to my transformation from loser to total loser.

When I get to the smoothie bar, I make straight for the counter, place my order, and shuffle off to find a table by the window.

I haven’t been seated five seconds before a tall, hooded figure slips into the seat opposite mine.

The stench on him is sweat and Creed Aventus; I recoil instantly.

Drew grabs my arm, nails digging into my wrist so that I’m forced to stay in my seat. “Don’t be silly, baby, it’s just me.”

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” I enunciate every damn word.

He just grins. “Come on now, don’t be like that.”

“If you don’t let go of me right this instant, I’m going to scream bloody murder.”

He looks amused. “Would you?”

I steal a breath, ready to make good on my threat, when he releases my hand as though it’s just caught on fire.

“Jesus Christ, don’t scream,” he grumbles. “I just wanna talk.”

If only I had my smoothie. I would have thrown it full in his face. I just can’t catch a break recently. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Actually, that suits me just fine, because I have shit I need to say to you.”

“Of course you do.” I roll my eyes. “You love the sound of your own voice.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t know where you get off being so snotty. I did you a fucking favor.”

“A favor?!” My screech earns me a few looks from the neighboring tables. “Are you delusional or just plain stupid? You completely ruined⁠—”

I break off. What do I say? I can’t claim to have had a relationship with Oleg. It was fake right from the beginning. A cordial agreement, but an agreement nonetheless.

So I settle for saying, “—everything. You ruined everything!”

“I saved your ass,” he retorts, the smile sliding off his face. “You were in over your head with that Russian fuck. I had to get you out.”

“By lying to me? Using me? Manipulating me?”

“Hate to break it to you, baby, but you understand that a lot better than you understand an honest conversation.”

My cheeks heat. I need something in my hands. A weapon. Sharp, preferably. I could use a knife or fork to jab him in the eye.

At this rate, I’ll gouge him with my fingers if I have to.

“How dare⁠—”

“Oleg Pavlov is a ruthless motherfucker. And he’s got a shitstorm coming his way. I’m talking about the kind of shitstorm he can’t get out of.”

My fingers tense on the edge of my seat. “What do you mean?”

He breezes right past my question. “Listen, I get it, okay? I understand why you would go for a guy like him. Mr. Moneybags probably pulled out all the stops. But throwing around money is easy for a man who’s drowning in it.”

“That’s not why⁠—”

“He’s going down, baby. And if you stayed engaged to him, you’d have gone down with him. I saved you. And I’m gonna keep saving you no matter what.”

I can only shake my head. “You’re insane.”

“Don’t you see how much I care about you, Sutton?” he croons, his hand twitching towards mine. I pull my arms out of reach. “I’m so much better for you than that egotistical asshole will ever be. We were so good together, the perfect team.”

I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but my throat is tight and the world is wobbly at the edges. Even speaking feels like more effort than I can make.

He sighs. “Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I forgive you.”

My jaw drops. I swallow air.

But at least I finally find my voice. “Excuse me?!”

He nods. “That’s right. I forgive you for being with him. He gave you security and I know how much you Palmer girls value security. But I can give you that, too, now. I’m coming up in the world, baby. And Oleg is going down.”

If my stomach weren’t empty, I’d be fighting back the urge to throw up. “Drew…”

“Yes, baby?” He smiles as though he’s certain of what I’m about to say.

I speak slowly and calmly, hoping that will convey to him just how serious I am. “What is it going to take to get you the fuck out of my life?”

His eyebrows flatline. “You don’t really mean that.”

“You want money?” I persist unblinkingly. “You want me to shout it from the rooftops? You want me to put a grass skirt on and do a rain dance? You want me to call the cops and get a restraining order? Because whatever it is, I’ll freaking do it.”

He lets out a grating hiss from the back of his throat. “Honestly, so fucking dramatic. As always. You and your sister have that in common.”

“You know nothing about me or my sister.”

“Need I remind you that I’ve spent a lot more time with her these past few weeks than you have?” His eyes narrow into furious slits. “Figures that you would get yourself a sugar daddy and forget the people who were around for you from the beginning.”

I dig my nails into the cushion of my chair. He’s trying to snake me into a conversation about Sydney and I absolutely refuse to fall for the same ruse twice.

“You really need to leave, Drew.”

“I love you, Sutton!” he cries, slamming his fist down on the table. “And I know you love me. Whether you admit it or not.”

I burst out laughing. “Are you for real?”

“You’re just in denial. You’ll see. You’ll get it soon.”

“I had no intention of discussing my relationship with Oleg with you, Drew, but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception.” My eyes zero in on him. “Being with Oleg made me realize how pathetic, superficial, and unhealthy our relationship was. There was nothing between us, Drew. Not then and definitely not now. You don’t love me and I don’t love you. I never did. I never will.”

He gapes at me, his eyebrows knitting together at the bridge. Little does he know that the joke’s on me.

Because apparently, my fake relationship was more real and more meaningful to me than a real one.

I’m expecting rage. I’m expecting him to make a scene, the way he always used to.

What I get instead is…

“Well, I’m not giving up on you.”

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows disappear into my hairline. “What?”

He nods as though he’s bestowing me with some great gift. “Yeah. You’re confused now. You’re pissed at me. But you need me, baby. And I’ve got a lot to offer. I’m gonna be making real money soon. Enough to keep you like a princess.” My heart shudders at the mere mention of Oleg’s nickname for me. “Sooner or later, you’re going to realize how much you care about me, about our relationship. I just have to be patient. I can be patient.”

I can only gawk at Drew, wondering if he was always this delusional or if this is a recent development.

Although…

Maybe, if he’s desperate enough, I can use his delusion to my advantage?

“You like deals,” I start, trying to find the right words to sweeten the proposition I’m about to make. “I’ve got a deal for you.”

“Do tell.” Drew nods, leaning in.

I have to freeze in place to keep my body from reacting to his proximity. “I’ll come back to you.” His face breaks into a delighted smile before I add, “—on one condition.”

The smile falters slightly. “Which is what?”

“You have to speak to Oleg and tell him the truth. I want you to tell him what we’ve really been communicating about for the last few weeks. He needs to know that the only thing we ever discussed was Sydney.”

The moment the offer is out of my mouth, I know it’ll never work.

For one, there’s no way Drew will believe that I’m serious about coming back to him.

For another, the reason I want to clear things up with Oleg is glaringly obvious and plastered across my face for the world to see.

Drew’s grimace confirms it. “You really want that fucker back? Even after he kicked you out like yesterday’s garbage?” His sneer morphs into a wicked smile. “You know what? No deal. I like things exactly the way they are. Even if you refuse to come back to me, I’m happy knowing that he thinks you’re my whore.”

“You bastard!”

He just laughs, all the charm abandoning his face in one go.

I’m a fool for sitting here as long as I have. Grabbing my purse, I rip out of my seat and make straight for the door, ignoring the clerk calling out my order.

But Drew can’t even let me have a clean exit. He follows me outside.

Grabbing my arm, he drags me to the back of a nearby alley, right next to the garbage cans.

“What the hell?!” I scream, trying to wrest free of his hold. “Let me go!”

“Jesus Christ,” Drew roars. “Why do you have to be so damn difficult all the time?”

He throws me against the wall. I cry out involuntarily at the sharp bloom of pain as my tailbone hits the rough brick.

When I catch my breath, I look up at him through the hair fallen over my eyes. “You’re a piece of shit, Drew Anton. What happened to loving me, huh? What happened to protecting me? To never laying a hand on me? What happened to never wanting to be like your dad?”

He was drunk when he shared that little Drew Anton Fun Fact with me. Drunk and vulnerable and snotting into my skirt like a frightened schoolboy clinging to his mama.

But it’s clear from the flare in his eyes that he remembers.

He just doesn’t like being reminded of it.

“Don’t talk about my father,” he growls. “You know nothing about that.”

“I know more than you think,” I press on, aware of the risk I’m taking. “I know that your father was a bully. I know you were scared of him. I know that, as much as you didn’t want to be like him… that’s exactly what you’re becoming.”

He takes a step forward, forcing me against the brick wall again.

He’s done this before. The physical intimidation. The cold sneer. The unspoken threat of violence.

“Why the fuck do you have to be like this? I’m only trying to make you happy.”

“You can make me happy by leaving me alone, Drew. Please!”

His tongue darts over his lower lip. He glances over at the street. A couple of people are milling about. I have no idea what’s going on in his head and it freaks me the hell out.

“I know what’s best for you,” he decides confidently, grabbing my hand. “Just come with⁠—”

“I’m pregnant!”

I don’t mean to say it. It just bursts out of me, a last-ditch attempt to get rid of this man once and for all.

He pauses, clammy fingers still clamped around mine. “Wh-what?”

I nod, studying the shocked lines of his face. “Yes. I’m pregnant. Oleg is the father. That’s why we can’t be together.”

His gaze drips down to my stomach. He shakes his head. “No. No, it can’t be.”

“I assure you it is. I’m pregnant with another man’s child, Drew.”

He grinds his teeth together, twisting around for a brief moment so that all I can see is the steady rise and fall of his shoulders.

When he turns back, he’s pale. His eyes are glazed over, as though he’s far away.

“Drew…?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head and says it again. “It doesn’t matter. You’re pregnant and alone. You need someone to take care of you. You and the baby. And since you clearly can’t be trusted to make the right choices, I’ll have to make them for you. Whether you like it or⁠—”

“No, you fucking asshole, get off of⁠—”

I catch only a glimmer of movement.

Then I feel a sting so sharp that my vision goes dark.

I try to shake it off, but the world has exploded in dark little stars. I sag against the dumpster, which is the only thing that keeps me from plummeting to the ground.

He hit me.

He hit me.

I can still only see vague, blurry outlines. Drew stands over me, huge, horrible, staring at his hand like it acted without his permission.

Then, with a horrified, cowardly whimper, he turns his back to what he just did and runs.

His outline blurs into the mouth of the alley and disappears.

I taste blood.

My face aches.

Maybe this is how it was always meant to be.