Erin glanced at her, then away, then back again, chewing at her lip. “Yesterday…I’ve never seen you like that. It…” It had scared her, obviously. “Sam, what happened?”
To be honest? Or to shield a teenager from painful real life truths?
Honesty won out.
Sam gathered a deep breath, willed herself not to break apart as she told the story. “You remember the dark-haired woman who came up beside me at the fence?”
Erin nodded.
“Well, Aidan was with her before he was with me. And she’s…” God, it hurt, it hurt so bad. “She’s pregnant. And she told me, and I…”
“She’s pregnant…with Aidan’s baby?”
“Yes.”
“Holy sh–” She shook her head. “Oh my God. Like, for real? Is he gonna get back with her? Is…”
Sam held up a hand. “According to him, he’s done with her, and was before he ever went out with me, but…” It was so hard to make herself sound dignified in all this. She fell silent.
“So you broke up with him?”
“More or less.”
It was silent a beat. “But you really like him,” Erin said.
“Yeah. I really do.”I love him.
“Did he cheat on you?”
“No.” At least, she was pretty sure he hadn’t. There had been nothing fake about the tears in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice yesterday. He’d been devastated, just as she was.
“And he’d really broken up with her before he was with you?” Erin asked.
“Yes.”
“So…why is her having a baby such a big deal?”
Sam blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Do you really care if he has a baby with someone else?” Erin looked up at her with an eerie common-sense stare.
“The baby’s not a big deal at all,” Sam said, without thinking, and the truth closed over her hard. For a second there, looking at Erin, she’d wondered if she’d made a horrible mistake. But then she remembered – it wasn’t about the baby, it was about him not stepping up to the plate and being a man about the babywith her.
Eyes burning with tears, Sam said, “He has to grow up, and I’m just afraid he can’t do that while I’m around.”
~*~
The next morning, Maggie sorted through the mail at her desk. Bill, bill, bill, bike magazine, bill…
A fat manila envelope remained on the blotter, addressed simply to “The Lean Dogs,” with no stamp or return address. Someone had stuck it in their mailbox by hand.
A little shiver crawled down her spine as she tore the flap and pulled out the contents.
They were photos: Tango with his hands bound behind his back, blood trickling from a split lip, sitting on a dark concrete floor. A note:We have something of yours.
~*~
Aidan got to the shop early. He hadn’t been able to sleep, hadn’t felt like drinking himself into a stupor, and was restless as all hell. Tango still wasn’t answering his phone – it now went straight to voicemail – and he figured Sam didn’t want another idiotic message left. With nothing else to do, and a baby on the way, he decided OT was his best option.
