Page 15 of Wreckage of Us
“Hey, I’m not judging in any way,” Jessica waves me off. “Trust me when I tell you that I am not one to comment on anyone’s pregnancy. My own situation is not exactly a fairytale,” she laughs with sadness.
I want to know more, but I can tell that she’s not ready to share.
“Yes, Dylan is the father of my baby,” I confirm to her.
“And Dylan is the biker, correct?” she asks for clarification.
I start laughing at the way she’s looking at me.
“He is,” I nod at her through my fits of laughter.
“Well,” she taps her perfectly manicured fingernails on her leg, “at least one thing is for certain.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s hot, you’re adorable,” she shrugs. “You’ll have a beautiful baby.”
5
Dylan
“You,”I point a finger across the yard to where Puck is standing. “Say your goodbyes because I’m about to kill you.”
I take off in a run, ready to pummel him to the ground. The fucker dodges me right when I’m about to put my hands on him, and I trip on air.
“What the fuck,” I hear Sully from somewhere. I don’t pay attention to anything else though. I got tunnel vision right now, and the only thing, or person, I can focus on is Puck.
“Dude,” he puts a hand up, like he’s trying to tame a beast. Way too late for that. “What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me?” I growl as I stalk him around the picnic table that’s tucked in the corner of the yard. “You came at me with this bullshit about Becca being pregnant…”
“Fuck,” he looks scared now. “She’snotpregnant?” His voice goes higher when he asks, trying to keep me at a distance, feeling safe and protected by the wooden table in between us.
“Oh, she’s pregnant alright,” I grumble, spit flying out of my mouth.
They already think I’ve lost it, might as well show it too, right?
With a sudden move, I flip the table between us to the side. With surprise on my side, I leap over the space and land right on top of Puck, taking us both to the ground.
“Running your big ass mouth,” I punch him in the face, relishing in the way a cracking sound echoes at the contact. “Just assuming shit and putting it in my head,” I punch him again, and again, and some more.
“That’s enough,” Sully grabs me from behind, then another set of hands helps him to hold me back.
I look down and see Puck’s bloody face, but I feel no emotion. I realize that blaming him for the fucked up shit I said to Becca doesn’t make any sense. But I need to take my anger out on somebody, and he seems like the obvious choice.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sully growls into my ear.
“Let go of me, fucker,” I respond, choosing to ignore his question.
“Not gonna happen, brother,” a different voice echoes in my other year, “if you start beating people for no reason.” I turn my head and realize with a start that Malone is here. Devereaux’s right hand man.
“Long time, no see,” I smirk at him.
“Sure has been,” he grins at me, his teeth looking whither than white against the darkness of his skin.
“How you doin’?” I give him a chin lift and return the grin.
“Doing good, brother,” he tells me in his jovial tone. “How are things with you?”
