“We pretend we got rid of it,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, her hand going to her belly.
“I have an idea, but I need some time.”
“Fine.”
Chapter Eight
I knew I only had a few days before my dad figured out that Bridge was still pregnant, and I had an idea of what I needed to do, but I was looking for the perfect opportunity to do it.
Christmas Eve morning, two days after we left the clinic, I woke early, throwing on a t-shirt because it felt a little chilly. Our house was pretty much floor-to-ceiling windows, and the floors were stone. In other words, it didn’t matter how much money you had, it was damn near impossible to warm the place.
I dialed August, my roommate back at Brown. Ladies, hands over ears. This is how dudes talk and I apologize.
“What’s up, f**ker,” he answered. Told ya.
“Hey, ass**le. What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know, a little of this, little of that. This is named Ashley, that is named Farrah.”
I laughed. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“I learned from the best, douche.”
“I taught you much, young Jedi, but I never taught you that. Guess I’m just a higher breed of human.”
“I’m gonna take an axe to that f**king pedestal, nuckfut.”
“Still couldn’t knock me down to your level.” I laughed before turning serious. “Listen, uh, I’m sort of in a jam out here. Think you could do me a favor?”
“Yeah, whatever you need, dude,” he added, all joking aside.
When I got off the phone with August, I padded over to Bridge’s room and knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she grumbled.
I opened the door and found her hunched over a trash can.
“Yeah, we’re not going to be able to hide this for long,” I said, shutting the door behind me.
“Shut up,” she complained uncharacteristically.
“Why don’t you keep crackers by your bed?” I asked, repeating something I’d overheard somewhere.
I noticed her face looked pale and her eyes were watery. I wanted to kick the ass who did this to her.
“I do, but nothing works. Nothing. I mean, nothing works. All eating crackers gives me is something more substantial to throw up. God,” she groaned, “I wish I’d never let this happen.”
“Dude, it’s pointless now. What’s done is done.”
“Thank you, Spence,” she bit sarcastically.
I hid a smirk.
“What’s the plan? Send me off to our cousin’s? Pretend my nonexistent husband died in the war?”
“Funny, but not too far off.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, we have to hide, Bridge.”
“Maybe I can, like, take a semester off, have the baby here, give it up or something.”
“He’ll never go for that. He’d never risk being exposed.”
“Well, maybe-maybe we—” she began, the backs of her hands against her cheeks.
“We can’t anything other than leave L.A.”
“I can’t,” she answered desperately. She stood, then realized she could barely stay upright so she slumped at the edge of her bed. “I can’t leave L.A. All my friends are here, school. What about Mom?”
“Mama’s afraid of Dad, Bridge. She’ll only stop us.”
“Maybe she’d come with us,” she added wildly, wringing her hands.
“She won’t. She’ll try to stop us and you know it.”
Bridge’s hands pushed her hair out of her face. “I can’t do this without Mama, Spence.”
“Yes, you can. I’ll be there.”
“It’s not the same,” she said honestly.
My heart broke for her a little. “I know, Bridge, and I’m sorry for that, but this is what we have to work with.”
“What are we going to do about money? Where are we going to go?”
“I’ve got some money,” I hedged. “August is helping us with the rest.”
“August knows?”
“Yeah, I had to tell him.”
She huffed, reminding me of the teenager she was and making me cringe a little. “Fine.”
“Okay,” I said, stretching across the carpet that laid at the foot of her bed. My feet hung over a few feet but I didn’t care. I tucked my hands behind my head. “Okay,” I repeated, trying to remember everything August and I talked about. “August’s grandparents own a remote cattle ranch in Montana. He’s going to talk to them and let us know if we can hide out there, at least until you turn eighteen and Dad can’t touch us.”
“Dad can find us anywhere. This seems pointless,” she said, hanging her head in her hands.
“Not this time, trust me.” She didn’t believe me, but she wasn’t going to argue. “You know how Dad always yells at us about how he doesn’t want the liability if we ever got drunk and killed someone driving?”
“Asshole,” she said under her breath.
“Well, Mom told me he put our cars in our names to release that liability.”
“No way,” Bridge said, her eyes widened as she caught on.
“I know exactly where he put the titles in his office.”
“He’ll know you’ve been in there.”
“So what? We’ll be long gone before then.”