Hunting Sawyer

Abomination

Joe gave me a week off. His cousin was traveling, so I stayed locked and hidden away in an unknown apartment on the other side of town. Without tips for the week, I would likely lose a lot of things. But…. I needed to prioritize my life. I didn’t leave. I didn’t turn on the lights. I didn’t check his mail. I was lucky to sleep, usually huddled on the couch, watching the door and expecting it to be kicked in any minute of the 1,440 in a day. Once I knew my cycle was late, I dressed in Joe’s cousin’s clothes and pulled a baseball cap low over my eyes. I kept my hair tied up under it and waited until the dawning hours of the morning. I walked two blocks to the drugstore and bought a test, noticing the “We’re Hiring” sign on the door.

I was shaking so bad, I almost dropped the damn stick in the toilet. But 3 painstakingly long minutes later, I knew.

Blake was right. I was pregnant.

I was going to be a mother.

And in that singular moment…I was terrified.

But I knew who I was. And terror defined my determination. And this….this defined it on a whole different level.

Because….Fuck Blake.

It was then I really got to work.

I got a second job at the drugstore. My shift started at 3:00am and I had at least 3 exits to the building and security cameras I could see right from the register. I kept my evening shifts at the bar, which was wearing me out on top of this whole growing-a-human thing. But I pushed through it. I had to.

A week went by and no sign of Blake. His cronies showed up on Friday, but no Blake. Their eyes darted across the room toward me, and my gut twisted into a nasty knot. But Joe served them and reminded them that any trouble and the police were making regular rounds out on the weekends now.

That somehow caused them to laugh.

Fucking assholes.

Behind the safety of the bar, my hand immediately snapped to my lower belly. At all costs….I’d protect my new reason for living.

The cronies had their fill of beer. One lingered behind as the others tossed their wadded-up cash on the table and stammered out.

It was the same guy I recognized that hung close to Blake often. He had darker features. He was a little older than I was with a gnarly gash across his eye. His dark eyes watched me with a sense of ultimate frustration and concern. The conflicting emotions blending like oil and water.

He visibly fought with himself before stomping over to me at the bar, where I was elbow deep in soap suds in the sink.

I didn’t speak, just c****d an eyebrow as he battled with himself.

“You didn’t do as he asked.” He stated. But I was ready not to give them any inclination.

“I still don’t know what the hell ya’ll are talking about. I’m completely fine.”

The man raked his hands over his face in frustration, before stretching his fingers, clearly in need to punch something. “You don’t understand, Luna.” I physically reacted, pulling back in confusion – looking for more answers from this guy. “Blake is not himself, especially recently. He is….different. And with this…. He will kill you. And there isn’t anything any of us can do to save you from that.”

I watched him intently. The pulse of responsibility fixated in his stare.

“Even if I was pregnant, I could give it up for adoption. It’s not like I can afford caring for a child.” My breath threatened to hitch in my throat. What I wouldn’t give….

“No.” He stated firmly, and I felt like he had smacked me across the face. “The child can’t exist. It would be an abomination.”

I held his stare. Threatening. Controlling my breathing as the anger swelled in my gut.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not pregnant then.” I raised my eyebrows, daring him to try me.

He just laughed nervously before running his hands through his dark hair and stretching out his back before stomping toward the front door.

“Don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.”

“Hey.” I called out and he faltered in the open doorway, chin barely pressed over his shoulder. “I started bleeding this morning.” I lied, hoping he’d buy it. “So can you dickwads leave me the f**k alone, please?”

I swear I saw him suck in a deep breath through his nose before closing his eyes and shaking his head. He sighed, “Hm. Let’s just hope to the Goddess that’s not a boldface f*****g lie.”

Thank the heavens above that the cronies and Blake did not return the next week. Or the next. Joe convinced me to move into the small side room at the bar to limit traveling back and forth. I was able to give up the apartment and all the bills and memories that came with it, as well as sell off a bunch of s**t I no longer needed.

Between my two jobs I was able to earn enough to buy essentials for the baby little by little. I was discreetly speaking with clients at both jobs, trying to find a place to disappear to. Joe was worried. I could see it in the new wrinkles around his eyes and the permanent pinch between his deepset brows.

Another Friday passed and I almost dropped a drink when I felt a distinguished kick. But that can’t be possible? I’m like two months at this point if my poor calculations were even close to correct?

I’d checked out a book at the sorry excuse for a library we had and read the whole thing in two days. But there was no way my child was developed enough for me to feel movement this early in the game?

Blake had said it would be an abomination…. what kind of child was I growing?