Chained: A Bad Boy Romance (11 page)

“Guy! You never mentioned a guy to me before! Do tell,” she said, resting her chin on her fist against the counter top.

I cringed at her enthusiasm. “I wasn't sure where it was going with him. But honestly, he's completely not the type of guy I would have ever pictured myself with.”

“Where did you meet him? Is he cute? I can't believe you didn't tell me about him.” She waved her spoon at me like a mother scolding her child.

“We met at work—”

“Work! Was he a guard? Some of those guards are so hot, with their uniforms and tight pants. Did you
sleep
with him?” Her eyes were large with curiosity. She loved to know the juicy information.

Sara had a good heart, great intentions, but her addiction to gossip drove me crazy. She was the person who had the subscription to every tabloid magazine. She knew everything about peoples' personal lives, from politicians to the clerk at the local grocery store. Who, by the way, I now knew slept with the manager for a larger discount in the store.

I knew more about the lives of those around us than they probably knew about themselves.

My eyes rolled from her bombardment of questions. “Anyway, I'm just having a hard time. He is constantly on my mind. I've debated possibly trying to find him. But I don't know, maybe I shouldn't. He's not exactly the dating type.”

“You avoided my question. Did you sleep with him?” Sara placed her hands on her hips, eyes glaring at me for an answer.

“Yes,” I muttered out. I couldn't bring my gaze to hers. I fixed them upon Biscuit who was so elegantly cleaning himself in the corner.

“So, you slept with this guy and haven't heard from him in a while? Sounds to me like he just used you. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I wouldn't be wondering about an asshole like that.”

“It didn't happen exactly like that. I don't feel used.” I grabbed an uncooked piece of spaghetti.

“You better not be thinking about eating that raw, too! What are you, pregnant?” She laughed and turned to tend to her sauce.

Pregnant?
The question made me stand straighter.
No. No way. I had my period last month. It was much lighter than usual and didn't last as long as it typically would, but I still had it.
There was a lot of stress lately. I assumed that contributed to my abnormal cycle.

My eyes peered down at the spaghetti I had begun to eat.
Why am I eating this? I don't remember ever wanting to eat raw pasta.
I ate weird things occasionally, but still...

No, it's not possible.

It'd been two months since I had sex with Owen.

Silence filled the kitchen, Sara glanced my way. “Look, I'm sorry. It's just that I've been there before. Don't let it get to you, there is always someone else. He probably isn't worth it, especially if he hasn't called you.” Her voice was sincere and her eyes full of concern. “He must have been good in the sack for you to still be thinking about him.”

“It's not that, it's just he had been in a hard spot, now I'm in one, too. I guess I'm just curious about where he is now and what he's done with himself.” Nausea began to fill my stomach, I had the sudden urge to throw up. I tried to take a deep breath and suppress the feeling.

What is going on with me? Where is this coming from?

“You alright, Charlie?” she asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just feel sick all of a sudden.”

“Maybe it was the raw potatoes you just stuffed your face with. I would want to puke, too.” Her face mimicked vomiting.

“Ha. Ha. Funny,” I said.

Something is wrong, though. And I have felt different recently. I've been emotional, eating strange things, but couldn't that be from the stress of job hunting?

The cold nose of my dog against my ankle broke my train of thought. I leaned down and pet him on his head, quickly he flopped over so I could scratch his belly. His tongue hung freely from his mouth while his leg beat up and down.

“You're such a good dog, my little guy.”

“You better wash your hands after that, dinner is almost ready.”

“Yes, mom,” I said as we both giggled. I made my way down the hall towards the bathroom. Another wave of unease hit me, making my tongue tingle.
Oh no.
I knew this sensation.

Holding my stomach, I swayed towards the door. As the bathroom grew closer so did my urge to throw up. I couldn't push it away.
I'm going to puke. What the hell? I must be getting sick, caught some type of bug.
Before I could fathom another thought my face was buried in the toilet.

“Charlie! You alright?” The sound of feet came thudding down the hall.

Gripping the edge of the toilet, I groaned. “Yeah, I must have caught a bug or something. I'm just going to go lay down for a bit.”

“You sure you're not pregnant? I've never seen you this color before.”

My eyebrows arched in disbelief to her question. “No, Sara, I'm not pregnant.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Alright, I'll let you know when dinner is done and if you're feeling better, come eat. Otherwise get some rest. Hopefully it's just a twenty-four hour thing.”

I shook my head yes and made my way to my bed. I flopped down on the mattress, feeling more nauseous than I could ever remember.

This is awful. My stomach is turning and I don't know why.
I closed my eyes, hoping the spinning feeling would go away. A hand rested on my belly, the other across my forehead.

What if I am pregnant?
A heaviness engulfed my chest. Panic started to set in.

No, I can't be. Stop it, Charlie. You're not pregnant.
I could hear my heart pounding out of fear. What would I do? I didn't have a job or a stable home, and no clue about kids. The thought of carrying a child and raising it alone scared me.

I could always move home. I'm sure my family would be there for me.
Gritting my jaw, I took a slow inhale of air.
I'm not pregnant. I can't think like this, I'm getting all worked up for no reason. This is crazy.

My eyes opened to the brightness of light. Sleep had taken over while I laid in bed resting. My arms stretched up and it felt good. Biscuit rested at the foot of my bed as he always did.

As I looked at him I thought back to how lucky he was to be alive. It was great for me to have him and know he was safe.

I wish I knew if Owen was safe.

Suddenly Biscuit lifted his head, his ears leaning forward. A soft knock resounded against my door. He knew someone was there before they made themselves known. A quiet bark released under his breath.

The door opened slowly and Sara poked her head in. “Hey, good you're awake. How you feeling? Any better?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so. No nausea yet.” I gave her two thumbs up and a smile.

“Good, I have to head out for a few hours, you need anything?” she asked.

“No, I'm all set. But, thanks.” I pulled the covers up and reached for the remote. “I'm just going to lay here for a bit. Wait for my new employer to call and beg for me.” I glanced at my cell phone on the nightstand.

She smiled and nodded her head up towards the ceiling. “Excellent. Well, call me if you do.”

I heard the front door close. “Just you and me, Biscuit.” His tail wagged as a rumble spread across my stomach.

I'm starving.

The wood flooring to the kitchen was cold against my bare feet. I opened the fridge and looked in. W
hat to have?

Eggs and toast. That would be perfect.

The smell of breakfast started to permeate through the condo. The idea sounded delicious, but as the food began to cook nausea set in again.

Come on! Really? I have to be coming down with something.
The hunger disappeared and all I wanted to do was throw up. The smell of the food cooking caused my insides to turn.

Could this be morning sickness? I've never experienced this before, no matter how ill I was. It's different. Maybe I should just take a test to ease my nerves.

I will, that will stop these stupid thoughts. Damn Sara and her comment.

The drug store was just a five minute drive up the road. I entered and made my way over to the family planning section.

There are so many! I don't know which one to use.
It was mind boggling, the number of different choices there were for pregnancy tests.

I shut my eyes and chose the first box my hand landed on. It was a pink box, decorated with flowers and butterflies.
Is all that necessary? Seems a bit extravagant to find out about being knocked up.

It doesn't really matter, I'm not pregnant.

At the register my hands trembled. The cashier, an older woman about sixty, smiled while she rang up the item. “Is this all?” she questioned, I could tell she wanted to ask more.

“Yup, that's it.” My eyes darted around behind her.
Please don't ask me anything else.

She peered at my hands as I handed her the ten dollar bill. “Nervous, huh?” I stood speechless, not sure how to respond. “Well don't be, no matter how it turns out, everything works out in the end.” She winked and passed me the bag. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Swiftly I pushed the bag into my purse and walked back to my car. I glanced around the parking lot with the hope I wouldn't run into someone I knew. The door slammed loudly and I rested both hands on the steering wheel, a deep breath escaped as I squeezed the rubber tightly.

A heaviness pressed down on my entire body, enough to physically shift my shoulders forward.
I can't believe this. What if I am? Oh god! What if?

My head fell onto my hands.
Calm down, slow breaths. You're not, this is only for assurance.
I shifted the gear into drive.
Let's go and get this over with. You'll feel better once it comes back negative.

Back at the condo I braced the box in my hands. I spoke out loud to myself. “Alright, let's just do this. You're not pregnant. So, piss on the stick and be done with it.”

My body shook from nerves, each muscle quivered individually.
Why am I so worried? I know I had my period last month. Just ease my mind to be sure, it's not a big deal. It's going to be negative anyway.

I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking as I opened the directions. Carefully I made sure to read them all. I wanted to do this right and not end up with a false positive. It seemed simple, fool proof even.

All that needed to happen was for me to pee on the hormone detector, let it rest for three minutes, and if there was one line then it was negative, two lines positive.

Here we go.

Those three minutes were the longest I had ever experienced. I was sure I'd made a track around my room while pacing, waiting for my cell phone timer to beep. Biscuit followed me around in circles as if we were playing a game, his tail wagged  from side to side with delight.

It's not going to be positive. No way it's positive.

Yes, the last time was unprotected. But, it's been a while now. I think I would have felt symptoms sooner.

And I had my period! I had it.

It's negative. Absolutely negative.

Startled out of the self talk by the beeping of my phone, I glanced down at my dog. “Alright, ready for this?”

Biscuit just stared back happily, his tongue hung out slightly as he tilted his head to my question.

I inhaled a deep breath and slowly walked towards the bathroom. The image of an inmate walking to death row crossed my mind; that lonely trek down a dark corridor to a deadly finale.

My heart raced as I approached the doorway. I didn't want to look down, I wouldn't let myself. My eyes closed while I stood over the sink where the test rested.

Just look down. Don't be scared, it's negative. Negative.

I forced one eye slightly open and glanced down.

Two lines.

Positive.

Owen

I
glanced down at the watch on my wrist.
Two hours left,
I thought as I stared at the undercarriage of a rusty, wood paneled wagon.
What a piece of shit.

Life outside the walls was a tough adjustment. Time had stood still for me, while the surrounding world changed at a rapid pace. Everything seemed more difficult than I remembered.

But when you go from a life of crime to the straight and narrow, it should be expected.

I could make one call and be free of all this shit. It would be so easy for me to dial a few old friends. I just don't want to end up back at that place.

I wasn't used to all this freedom. Flash backs hit when the buzzing of my alarm goes off each morning. For a quick moment I'd have to catch my bearings. Recognition needed to set in that I was no longer confined, that the bell was a clock and not the jail house timer.

Sweat dripped down my temple. I wiped it away, smearing grease across my cheek. That mere trickle of water brought Charlie into my mind. That last meeting with her, our bodies hot and wet...

It was unforgettable.

I wish I could feel her again.
The moment she slid herself down over my cock and how her body arched with pleasure, the smoothness of her skin against mine had stayed with me.

I hadn't stopped envisioning her. When the smell of exhaust fumes burned my nostrils, I replaced it with her scent. A southern accent caused my head to turn.

I need her again.

There was one day in the supermarket when I thought I'd had seen her. Dark burgundy hair flowed over the woman's shoulders, she had the same hour glass figure from behind.

Except it wasn't her.

That split second of excitement vanished when she turned around. An unrecognizable face glanced my way.

Before that instant, I had almost placed my lips to her ear to whisper, “Did you miss me?” Thank god I'd held off, it would have landed me back in prison. A sexual harassment complaint would not go over well with my parole.

“Hey! How you making out down there? You napping? Let's go! Adjust the suspension bolts already,”  Bill, my boss, yelled. He was a tall, hefty man with a hot temper.

Owner and manager of 'Monroe's Mechanics,' he had been hiring released convicts for years through the prison employment program. It worked for both of us; I got a job and he got a major tax break.