Page 64 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
It must almost be time for my…
I bolted upright in the bed. It wasn’t almost time for my period. It was past due. Way past due.
Fuck.
I gulped in oxygen, like my throat was about to close over at any moment. Nope. No. I refused for this to be a reality.
I kicked Sampson. “Sampson, wake up. Sampson!” I hiss-whispered.
His eyes snapped open like he was the undead, which would have been pretty hilarious at any other time. “What’s wrong?”
“You need to get out of bed. We need to go out, but you can’t tell the others.”
Sampson didn’t ask any questions, just rolled out of bed and pulled on his sweats. I loved him for that. I did the same, just throwing on a sweatshirt and some yoga pants. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun and then put the hood of my sweatshirt up over it. Then I slipped on my Converse, and we crept silently from the hotel room.
We made it to the car before Sampson spoke. “What are we doing?”
“Going to find a drugstore.”
“Why?” He frowned, but still started the car and steered out of the parking lot.
I swallowed hard and looked out the window. I wasn’t sure if I could look at his face for the next bit.
“I think I might be pregnant.”
The air inside the car changed. It was like I’d dropped a flashbang into the backseat, and now I was just waiting for the people to come shooting. Or maybe I’d just watched the guys play too much Call of Duty.
Sampson cleared his throat. “Okay.”
What the actual hell? I swung back toward him, my mouth hanging open. “Okay?”
He turned briefly toward me. “Yeah, okay. What did you expect me to say? We were both there—well, at some point anyway—so if you’re pregnant, it’s not like you’re to blame. You weren’t out here poking holes in the condoms to get to my money or anything. You can have it without a kid.”
I was shaking my head. “The last thing I want right now is a baby.” Or ever. I could barely take care of myself—the last few months were basically irrefutable proof of that fact.
Sampson gripped my knee and squeezed. “Don’t stress. We’ll get the proof, then we’ll figure out what happens next.”
We spent the short drive to the twenty-four-hour drugstore in silence as my mind whirled around and around. I should have been smarter; I knew we were playing a dangerous game, but there had never been time to find a doctor and get a script for the pill or the IUD or anything. Now, it was too fucking late.
I tried to think when we’d been unprotected. Other than that time with Evan in Yokohama, and the plane with Sampson, we’d been damn fucking responsible as hell. The guys didn’t fuck around with protection—I guess that came from years of protecting themselves from paternity suits.
Could the Plan B pill have failed?
Maybe I’d conceived a Mile High baby?
Or maybe one of the condoms had failed. I mean, they were only meant to be 98% effective, so two in every hundred times, they failed. Right?
Fuck, not that I’d had sex with them a hundred times yet, but fuck, who’s to say they didn’t fail on the tenth time... Fuck, was that even how statistics worked? Fuck...
I was well and truly freaked out by the time we pulled into the drugstore parking lot. “Wait here. I’ll go,” Sampson told me softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Stop stressing out, okay?”
I snorted. “Let’s assume that until that little window comes up negative, I’m going to continue freaking the fuck out.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Good Girl. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Chapter32
Sampson
