The Arrangement Anthology 2(189)

He thinks the baby is real. It’s not.

In that moment, the world fades away. The only thing I can think about is the life I've thrown away. Not the picket fence or the little house, but the real life we could have had together, the real baby that looks like Sean. I mourn the real life of passionate kisses from a man who adores me and midnight conversations that last until dawn.

For the longest time, I only saw the outside of things--the house, the yard, the flowers--not the family within the house. I never realized how much I wanted to hold his child in my arms. Now I never will. I feel like I'm going to be sick, and try to hide it. Sean notices.

“You’ve been doing all this pregnant. I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry for everything, Avery.”

He takes a deep breath and looks down the beach at the elderly couple. When he glances back at me, the softness in his gaze fades as his walls go back up.

“She said you’re going to have a baby girl. Old people can spot a pregnant woman a mile away. She thought I was the father. I didn’t correct her. Come on, let’s find Trystan.”





CHAPTER 10





Even though it’s night, and there is very little light, I still feel like I’m going to get my head blown off. Their goal is for me to leave and get away with my rock star boyfriend, while the two of them figure out how to get out of this clusterfuck of a mess.

As we approach the shore, there’s a little white boat sitting on the sand, two oars stretched across the seat.

“Get in.” I climb into the little watercraft and go to sit on the seat while Sean grabs the oars. He shakes his head and points to the spot in front of the bench. “You can’t sit up. This plan only works if no one sees you.”

Mucky water, sand, and something slimy covers the bottom of the boat. I make a face and nearly protest, but when I look up at Sean, I just do it. I press my body down into the bottom of the boat, resting on something cold and slimy, unable to smell anything but rotting wood.

Sean takes us through the reeds around back, moving the boat insanely slow as to not make a sound. He’s constantly looking around, scanning everywhere without moving his head. I can’t imagine what’s going on inside his beautiful mind. He must feel so betrayed, but I had to do it. Sean isn’t indestructible. His mother was indestructible, and still she’s dead.

When we pull up to the dock on the opposite shore, I sit up and wipe the slime off my face. Sean grabs a rope and ties it to the boat, then turns to help me onto the dock. We’re at a launch a few houses down, directly across from the main road out of here.

“Why’d we come over here?” I don’t understand what they’re doing. No matter what, I’ll be seen going down this road.

“Masterson is meeting us here with a speed boat. He’ll drive you to a different port and Trystan will pick you up there. I couldn’t risk you being seen leaving from here.”

Before I can respond, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. A moment later, the hairs on my arms follow suit, and goose bumps cover my body.

“It feels like someone is watching,” I whisper to Sean.

“I know.”

“Who is it?” I stumble out of the boat like a drunk ballerina, swirling around to catch my balance. Sean takes my hand and steadies me.

“I don’t know, but they had plenty of opportunities to take us out and they haven’t.”

“So it’s a friend?”

His brows crinkle together as if I should already know the answer to that question. He releases my hand and looks over my shoulder before returning his gaze to mine.

“Do you know anyone who would risk their life for you that isn’t already here?”

I swallow the sob that wants to come up and shake my head. He hates me. Oh, God!

Sean tips his head to the side, indicating that I should follow him. I try to walk next to him, but Sean doesn’t wait for me. His stride is too long, so he’s about half a step ahead.

“Trystan isn’t that stupid. His distance keeps you alive, so it’s not him. Everyone else associated with you seems to have fled. I’m assuming you noticed that, right? Black is silent, Gabe is gone, and Mel ran.”

“Mel didn’t run. Someone framed her. The cops are still looking for--“

He rounds on me, cutting me off.

“No one is looking for her, Avery! Mel isn’t your fucking friend and at the rate you’re going, you’re going to be lucky if you weren’t her mark, too,” he yells in a hushed whisper.

“Mark for what? For a fabulous life of hookerdom? What the hell are you talking about?”

He closes his eyes and presses his fingers to his temple. When he looks at me again, he’s beyond livid.