Authors: Chloe Adams

No Way Back (Mia's Way, #1) (23 page)

“Even if Daddy hates me, I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose you, Chris.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promises. “I’ll handle Gerard. You forget how good I am.”

I almost smile. “Ari’s dad is afraid of you.” The man who looks like Fabio shouldn’t fear anything, but her dad has told us both he’d never tangle with Chris’s legal team.

“The DA subpoenaed you Friday. I buried him in paperwork,” Chris speaks slowly, pensive. “It’ll take him months to get to you, if he does at all.” He rubs his face again. “Mia, are you sure this is what you want to do? You won’t change your mind tomorrow?”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“The nightmare will get worse before it gets better.
If
it gets better. You’re pitting my team against one of the best in the country. It may never get resolved, when two teams like ours are at court. It’ll be messy.”

“I just know I can’t live with her death. I won’t back out, Chris. I swear it,” I whisper.

Chris rests his head against the wall behind him. He holds my gaze for a long moment. I’m terrified, but I have to do it.

“It appears as though I submitted the wrong response to the DA. I’ll send him the appropriate one and let your father know,” he says at last. “Mia, this will not be easy on you.”

“I want to do the right thing.”

“Even if I can’t talk Gerard out of kicking you out? You might lose everything,” he says.

I swallow hard, but I nod. He’s quiet for another long moment.

“About this Saturday …” he says.

“I’m going to do it,” I tell him.

“Molly told me. I just want to be sure. These are two huge decisions. There’s no going back from either of them.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got to talk to Shea and Molly. We’re going to have to craft a press release for Monday. The world knows you’re pregnant. We’ll say your fight at school triggered a miscarriage,” Chris says. “Which will fix the issue of Jenna Saunders’s legal team calling to press charges for you punching her.”

I stare at him. I always thought Shea was the mastermind behind fixing issues. I had no idea so many people knew things my father didn’t. I wonder if Shea and Chris helped cover up Molly’s indiscretion, too.

“I’ll hold off contacting the DA until Monday. I have a feeling he’ll want you in his office two seconds after my call. Make it through the weekend, then we’ll deal with the next issue,” Chris says.

“Okay.”

“Once this ball is rolling, it can’t be stopped,” he warns me.

His words scare me. The idea of months or years at court – of losing my family and destroying Daddy – terrify me.

“I have to do it,” I tell him. “Is it selfish of me to hurt Daddy like this?”

“Mia, I think this is the most un-selfish thing you’ve ever done. I’m proud of you,” Chris replies, standing. “I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’ll send Dr. Thompkins home. Don’t be late for your community service. Keep things quiet until Monday. No more fights.”

I manage a small smile.

“You gonna be relatively okay?” he asks, studying me.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “Thank you, Chris.”

He hesitates, nods, and leaves.

He’s proud of me. Like Dom. Like Ari will be. I don’t know why that matters so much to me right now. I pray I’m making the right choice. My world is about to change again, and I’m scared of what that means.

Chapter Seventeen

I survive the rest of the week at school. I even make it through cheer practice without killing anyone. Ari doesn’t understand why I’m distant, but I promise her over and over I’ll let her know. I even ignore Benji. Not that he doesn’t try. Just that I’m really not able to take on anything else right now.

I go to my bridal fitting Saturday morning. As I expected, Molly has chosen classy but over-the-top gowns. All the bridesmaids will be in long, fitted, off-white silk gowns with fur lining the bodice. It’s not something I’d ever volunteer to wear or force anyone to wear.

Irritated at the waste of three hours, I check my phone and find Molly’s instructions waiting for me as promised. I follow her directions and walk through the pedestrian bridge, so no one else sees me, into a building of medical offices and labs. I go to the top floor, to a corner office, and I start to feel like I’m going to some seedy, back alley drug deal. I walk into an office identified only by a number.

Decorated in dark woods and jewel tones, the inside is as comfortable and pleasant as the location is not. A woman in a suit sits at the reception desk. Her nametag on the desk reads
Lisa.

“Hi, Lisa,” I say nervously. “I’m here about … about … um …”

“I understand. Your sister called ahead. We’re expecting you.” She smiles. “Come with me.”

I follow her through a hallway into an office that resembles a miniature study. I sit in front of a desk, instead of on a table.

“Dr. Agatha will be with you shortly.” Lisa closes the door behind her.

My anxiety is growing. The office is too quiet. I can’t help thinking about the babies in the ward, of how delicate and small they are. Daddy thinks this is murder. But Daddy isn’t always right. If he’d let me take the morning after pill, before …

I pull out my cell phone. Ari has texted, asking about the fitting. I answer her. I look at my contacts, needing to talk to someone. I pull up Dom’s name and type a note to him. Since talking to Chris, I’ve been wondering about Dom. I don’t want him to be my friend when he finds out I’m coming forward. I want him to be my friend either way.

If I never come forward, will you hate me?

The door opens, and I tuck the phone away. Dr. Agatha is an attractive, older woman in jeans and a sweater with her hair in a French twist. She smiles and sits down in the chair beside mine.

“Mia, is it?” she asks, offering her hand.

I nod.

“I’m Dr. Agatha. You’re young.”

“I know.”

“Many of our clients are high-profile. Rest assured we will respect your privacy,” she says. “I counsel every woman I see the same way. I need to know that you are prepared for this step, and I require you to return in two weeks for a check-up.”

“Okay.”

“Your sister faxed us your last physical. You’re in perfect health physically,” she continues. “What I need to know is, are you mentally prepared for this?”

“Yes.” The words are hard to say, and my hands are shaking. “My family sent me to a natal ward Monday, and I researched my options. My decision is my own.”

We talk for over two hours. I cry as I tell her about the rape. She listens patiently and peppers me with questions about my plans for the future, my religious beliefs, my family’s opinion, my health history.

Finally, she excuses herself. I ask her where the restroom is and walk down the hall. Repairing my make-up, I look at my black eye and pale features. I’m scared. Always scared. I felt a message come in while I was talking to Dr. Agatha, but I’m afraid to look. I’m afraid Dom will tell me to go to hell. I’m afraid I’ll lose him, before I even start the ball rolling.

It shouldn’t matter, but it does. I draw a deep breath and pull the phone out to see his response.

I made that decision the night of the police ball.

I release my breath. So when everything hits the fan, I’ll have Ari, Dom and Chris. I’m not convinced Molly and Joseph will support me, if it means taking politically sensitive positions. I know I’ll lose Daddy, and I have a feeling Mom will never come back from rehab.

When I return to the office, Dr. Agatha is already there. She smiles at me.

“Have a seat, Mia.”

I do, and she sits beside me again. There’s a silver tray with two pills and a glass of water.

“You will experience heavy bleeding for one to two weeks, if not a little longer. If there is any pain beyond that of your normal period, go immediately to the hospital.”

She’s told me this twice already. I nod. So far, I haven’t had to sign any forms or provide insurance details or anything. I wonder if Molly arranged everything already. Dr. Agatha falls silent. I stare at the pills. My hands are shaking. This is the first step in a process that’ll probably get me kicked out of the family.

I take the pills. I guess I expect them to hurt, but they go down like painkillers. I’m in my first trimester. My body will think it’s a simple miscarriage.

I’m feeling sick about this and scared. Ms. Agatha gives me her card and walks me to the door. I leave the same way I came, through the building, across the pedestrian bridge and out of the building with the bridal boutique. My car is waiting and with it, the press. As always. I get into the car and go home.

I haven’t even told Ari what I’m doing. She wants to hang out this weekend, and I tell her I can’t. I know she’s upset, but I have to do as Chris says. Mom says to trust him. I think I do.

Dr. Agatha is right. My period starts the next day. The flow is heavy, and the sight of blood makes me sob uncontrollably all day long. I try not to think about the babies from the ward. Instead, I focus on the week ahead.

I skip school Monday. Ari sends me links. I open them to see the press release.

Joan of Arc loses baby.

I curl up in my bed. I can’t read it, but I’m happy I can talk to Ari again.

I’m so sorry! No wonder you were weird last week!
She texts.

I feel bad for lying to her.

You want to come over tonight?
I ask her.

Yes!

I smile at her response. It’s afternoon already. I spent the day in bed and force myself out of bed to clean up. When I get out of the shower, another link from Ari is waiting for me.

Rape victim dies.

I lean against the counter in my bathroom. I tell myself I’m doing the right thing and then I go to my closet. I’m there when Ari gets to my house. She looks at me. I know what she’s thinking, but she sits down beside me.

“Everyone’s talking about you today,” she starts. “They all send their condolences.”

“That’s nice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. She knows me well enough to know when something is up. Before she can pin me down about this, I tell her my other secret.

“I’m turning in Connor.”

Her eyes widen. “Because of the link I sent you today?”

“No. I made the decision last week.”

“Omigod! What did your dad say? What did Chris say?”

“Chris is helping me.”

“Wait, what?”

I laugh at her stunned expression. “I told him I need to do the right thing.”