Minder

Chapter 19

OLALLIE

“Whose baby is it?” It sounds like I'm underwater, or he is because I can feel the cold air sway between my fingertips. I blink open, and the numbing buzz vibrates the area.

Where am I?

“Knox?”

“Whose is it? The baby, they told me you're pregnant.” Knox’s voice sounds bold and a foreign font that begs the question of concern.

I focus on his voice. I try to place it, but it jumps and skips. I decided to move my hands to tell him, but I realize they were bandaged in ruins. My head ached from the cochlear being ripped from my head. It wasn't the first time, but this time hurt worse.

Not by choice this time either.

When they held me down, and I didn’t scream or cry, they attempted to pour boiling hot chemicals to get me to cower. My nostrils burn with the scent.

“My hands...” There is the nervous stutter again. How could I use my hands, my tools, words, and letters all boiled with the anger of another?

“They'll heal, Olallie.” Knox’s voice was never tender, at least not towards me. The coldness he persuaded people with, I was developing one of my own.

“I know. Please excuse me, so I may be alone.” They would heal, but not tomorrow. In weeks I would walk around head down, lost in the misery.

Maybe Kalonie was right, and I shouldn’t be here. It seemed her actions and my injuries were speaking its time.

“I want a name when I get back.” Knox moved to grab the handle and slam open the door.

Vayden and the girls were probably standing on the other side, waiting to flock to my side. Lawson would be in the waiting room, pouting if any telling of our conversation went last night.

The bad news for Knox Krause, he wasn’t getting a name. The boy whose dark beauty had become my wonderous light. He wasn’t getting his name because it wasn’t about protecting Lawson. It was about protecting me.

A boy I was sure I loved but could never give myself to. We were both tyrants like that, teasing each other until one backed down.

“I wanted to feel safe in your home, Knox. When Luna spoke about you, it was uplifting, like you were making a difference in the world, in this town. I have never found that home, felt at home. And the one I was gifted only lasted minimal years.” Breathe in and out; stay calm. “The guy who did this will not be punished because, in his arms, I found a home, and inside me, we created a new one.” Still staring at my hands, I wonder where the bravery comes from.

Where was it when I needed it last night? Why has it been dormant so long?

Knox was about to tell me that I was safe, that I didn't need to worry, Kalonie wouldn't be an issue anymore. But I shook my head, and I gawked at the pain that melted the skin off my palms.

“I will never share a house with you again, Knox. My mother was wrong about you; it's sad to know so many people are.” Knox has threatened Kalonie’s castaway before.

“Kalonie will be punished. She is being sent to a reforming camp. You blame me or are angry at me; it is misplaced.” If I closed my eyes, I could see how, as a child, this voice would be a natural shelter.

I grew up with Lennox being a mystery, not a father figure. His affection wasn’t shared as it was with Calhoun and Leonie.

As much as I hated to place Kalonie and me as equals, we definitely were when it came to Knox having to deal with us.

“No, I blame you. You hold onto your past so that you don't notice what is happening in front of you. And me, I am five and half months pregnant Lennox. You didn't even notice; you couldn't have even thought it was possible. In your mind, you are probably thinking, didn’t she learn anything useful from her mother?”

I mean every word and the others I choose to keep for myself.

“So I'm a f****d up father figure; I suck at parenting. You wish your mother was here instead of me.” Exhausted with his parenting or even caring at this point.

“Luna and Rebecca are never going to come back. They are gone forever. How grueling it must be to try and bring them back to life every day. Hoping they could fix your mistakes.” It’s so sharp, and to the point, he physically is uncomfortable with the attack.

“Getting life advice from my sixteen-year-old daughter hit a new low.” Blowing out a breath of air

“I turned seventeen last month.” To the exact day.

“f**k. You didn't say anything?” Now his anger grows, and it turns that I am the source.

“You didn't ask.” Simple, because I wasn’t born to be a reminder of everything he failed.

“Are you punishing me? Is that why you got pregnant?” Knox can play victim all he wants, but I let the shield go this time. I dismiss my cues to back down.

“This life isn't about you. My life wasn’t about you; Luna’s life wasn’t about you. When will you realize you’re drowning in your own misery with the belief others are holding you down when it is your hands around your own throat?”

The only source of warmth comes from the small window, and I stare out of it until he retreats. Others come and go, and I can’t consciously be present. I know two things for sure. Lawson doesn’t come to check my status, and it’s him I conceived a baby with.

After being released from the hospital, I learned that Zailey spent most of the night in jail. The girls who attacked me charged her with crimes they committed themselves.

Always the victims, they try to put the punishment on everyone else, never growing strong enough to prove others wrong.

“I'm pregnant.” Two words, I wonder if this is how Luna felt when she said them out loud.

“That fight was some stupid teenage thing. It won’t happen again. Promise. You have my word.” Lawson begs forgiveness. Using his pledge, words, as if they meant anything these days.

“I am pregnant.” Letting it sink in again and again.

“We can...pregnant? Like knocked up with a kid kind of pregnant?” Lawson loses his bravado the second he says the P-word out loud.

My turn to give the nod.

“Holy s**t! Holy s**t! I'm only eighteen I can't be a dad. Oh my gosh, what about college? I have to go to college. What about work? I'm going to have to work full time and go to school. Eighteen, I'm f*****g eighteen, and I knocked up some chick. Oh no, why am I going to do it.” Lawson paces back and forth.

“I was sixteen when we created this human.”

“Well, we can't keep it, right? We’re both too young, right? Yeah, you can have it, and we will give it up for adoption to a couple who is ready, that can provide for a baby.” Lawson’s reaction is normal, but it isn’t my truth.

“I…I...”

“You what? Do you want to keep it? Oh my gosh, you do; you're trying to trap me. I knew this would happen. I knew you were too young. What was I thinking about going out with a girl like you? I mean, do you know what other people say about you? How quiet you are, how you dress like a stuck-up conservative church girl. Oh my gosh, what have I done?” Lawson pleads on the gravel driveway now.

I shift my gaze into the distance, avoiding the downpour by his indifference towards the situation.

Lawson is standing in front of me, and there are words we need to say to each other. But the timing isn’t right, he shrugs, and I wonder if that is where we go from here into the unknown.

“Olallie! You’ve got to get back here. Something is wrong with your friend; she passed out.” Vayden runs over to us out of breath.

“Go get Leonie from the house,” I yell to Vayden and hurry around the gate.

“s**t! She’s seizing! Damn it, ugh, s**t, s**t, s**t!” River, Zailey’s friend, that’s a boy, hovers over her as tremors conquer her body.

“Hold on, I’ll call my sister; we live down the block.” Verse pulls out his phone.

“No, Leonie’s in the house. She’ll be out in a minute.” Lawson makes a comment before I need to talk.

Leonie comes out, calm and at a natural speed. Pries open her mouth and shove an apple inside.

“She’ll choke!” River again yells. I twitch at the vibrations in my ears.

“She’ll bite her tongue off. Stress-induced seizures. Olallie says she has medication?” All she does is put out a hand; Harper places a couple pills in it. Watching as we both wait for our friend to stop shaking.

“There we go; it’s almost over.” Leonie checks her pulse and nods her head.

“Does she have a concussion?” River’s freak out continues.

“Did she hit her head?” Leonie asks like he is an i***t. It’s not what she implies, just how her tone is.

“No.” Thank you, River.

“Then, no. Do you not understand how injuries to the brain work? Do you need a demonstration?” Leonie is on point, and I can’t help but gleam at her assertiveness.

My hand goes out from underneath my chin as I flick a thank you towards her.

“You’re welcome.” My eldest sister leaves without looking back. As she stands, she stares at my wounds, wondering how to find the solution to that problem.

“Is she going to be okay? Should we get her into the house?” Zailey’s male acquaintance doesn’t loosen his hold on her body. His eyes fret that he might have induced this attack.

“Sure, River. Follow Olallie inside. She’s going to be fine, just a little overwhelmed.” Harper pats his shoulder to go, and they linger inside.

Let me get us some drinks. Trying not to flinch at every wrong angle, I force my fingers to cooperate.

“O, let me get them. Your hands, remember?” Lawson bends his head and kisses the top of mine.

For a second, I think there might be peace in the time to come. Maybe Lawson reset his attitude, and we are whole again.

“What happened last night?” Amos tilts his head to my hands, hiding behind my back.

“She has an evil step-sister.” I tilt my head and tap my wrists, making Harper fix the statement.

“Half-sister, same thing.” Harper corrects the sentence for me.

“Your sister did this to you?” Amos, who has remained primarily levelheaded, starts to make a scene.

“She’s been bullying her, but it’s more hazing than casual,” Vayden speaks from the corner, a book in his hand.

“And you guys weren’t there to protect her, some friends.” Amos scoffs at our group, and I want to unleash some degree of wrath.

“Shaymus…” Harper tries to butt in, but it’s no use. Emotions are running hot, the tension is cutthroat.

“What do you think we do with our women exactly? Do you think you’re any better than the rest of us? If the stories I hear about the two of you assholes are true, I look like a damn saint.” A few glasses break when Lawson makes his way out of the kitchen.

“Law, maybe we should cool off. Let’s take it outside, go for a drive.” Verse tries to get him to reel himself back into sanity.

“Maybe you should listen to your pal there?” Amos stands, rolls, and back his shoulders, ready for a fight.

Getting the broom and dustpan, I bend to pick up the mess. Harper is there taking over the job.

“What are you doing? Now isn’t the time to defend your pride.” River eyes Zailey. Who is still gone from this world?

“Maybe you should listen to your pal.” Lawson stands a few feet away, and I can sense the anger rushing to his brain, ready to brawl.

Amos bumps chests with Lawson, throws punches, then Verse and River step in, trying to break it up. We start tumbling, Harper starts cussing at Amos.

My mind isn’t here, my hands still bruised with being alive. I try cleaning the shards of glass as best I can.

We leave with our tails tucked between our legs.

“Think this through; it’s not worth it.” River talks it out with Amos.

A few seconds from losing control, we all let our shoulders drop. Harper and I try to breathe through the tension and testosterone.

Lawson snorts, and his fists let go of the hold. “s**t, O. Hey, baby girl, I’ll clean it up.” As he tries to come near me, my hands point in the opposite direction.

Dropping my hands, the wet bandages now slip from their place, and I whisper in pain as they rip open. Revealing blisters that look like I was sacrificed to the sun. The element doing its best to cleanse the disobedient.

“O, s**t, they’re bleeding. Hey, we need to cover those cuts. Are you in pain?” Lawson moves to come closer. I raise up my palms, blood freely flowing.

The liquid runs down my petite arms. Eyes speak, and Lawson stops in his tracks.

“Vayden, help her while I take him out back for a smoke.” Verse steers Lawson to the backyard.

“Olallie, come on, careless girl. Let’s get your mess under control.” My best friend leads me to the first aid kit in the kitchen bathroom.

Patch and Knox got the assault charges dismissed on Zailey for retaliation on Kalonie and her friends. It was their final thanks as they boarded a plane and left me where I belonged.

~

I let my wrapped palm travel the length of the wooden banister, feeling the rhythm dance through the element. Hoping it would satisfy the peanut, welcoming the noise.

Not being strong enough to stay away as I found myself entering a room that was damning.

Kalonie was intoxicated, sweating every drip of alcohol she put in her body.

“Where's my baby sister Olallie?” Her eyes were glossy as she scanned the room from her spot on the tattered couch. I took a step forward, and then I knew what came next wasn't a kind pleasantry, so I sat back in my dark corner, but my pale green maxi dress gave away my position.

“There she is! There she is! Olallie, the little angel and light of Daddy's eye.” Kalonie’s taunts don’t make me crumble anymore. I hold my ground; it's only going to get worse.

“Does everybody know that our baby sister got herself knocked up by one of those Sonny bitches?” Audible gasps circled around us, but I kept my eyes locked on hers; they played friendly and Calhoun by her side, not stopping the flames with which she was burning my existence alive.

Lawson looked at me with a scowl. Calhoun took his twin's side on all accounts, no matter the degree. Now his glare; I shifted to the ceiling.

“Which one of you was it? Pearson? Mason? Kingson? Ah, there he is, the man himself, Lawson.”

One thing I had to give to my sister she talked better and with more intelligence when she drank.

Lawson, whose eyes I didn't meet as the boys around the room, hooted and hollered, slapping him on the back. I could feel his eyes shift to me from the blonde he was trying to intrigue. Pity he was casting shame at me.

Verse and Vayden are vacant from their usual spot next to Lawson.

“It wasn't him,” I whispered.

“What did you mumble, little sister?” Calhoun to the rescue.

This time my focus met his, and I couldn't drag myself from his sneer.

“I said it wasn't him. It wasn't one of the Sonny boys.” Out of the corner of my eye, Lawson's fist clenched around his plastic cup.

“Oh, you get around? Like mother like daughter, isn't that right, Olallie?” She winked at me and swallowed her warm beer.

I gave her an acknowledging nod and turned to exit the festive night. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. It wouldn't be the last time, I reminded myself as they shouted out to come back. As I passed Calhoun, he struggled to reach me in time, and I shook my head.

I am alone again.

The baby in my womb and me, solitary partners.

I walked down the quiet, dim hallway to my room. I stepped outside my balcony and sat there, willing the moon to rise. My eyes clenched closed; I thought he loved me or would be able to.

“Would you return to the party, please? I am not in a proper mood to have company.” He leaned against my open door.

“You shouldn't let her treat you like that.” Lawson doesn’t knock when he intrudes into my life like it is his own.

“Thank you for your opinion. I will take it into consideration.”

“You don't have to be polite to me, Olallie. I'm the jackass who came inside you without a condom, basically on purpose.” Lawson isn’t mad, just confused.

“Ramona is a sweet young lady.”

“Whose Ramona?” Squinting his eyes in confusion.

“The blonde you were close to.”

“Oh, her, yeah, not my type.” Brushing off the casual woman I saw him with.

“Yes, blondes usually aren't.” Saying as I began to stroke my curls as they started to frizz in the fresh air.

“No, just her.” Confirming my own fear, I am his type.

Hmm was what I focused on as I closed my eyes.

“Why did you tell everybody that the baby wasn't mine?” There was curiosity covering a hitch of hurt.

“So they wouldn't look at you like they look at the rest of us.”

“Hey, I can handle myself. I own up to my mistakes.”

Mistakes? MISTAKES?

“See, that's the problem; I am not a mistake. This baby we created is not a mistake either!” And there it was; shock crossed his face. “The mistake was pursuing me, sleeping with the virgin sister, right? Letting me believe something might...” But I stop my voice; it no longer serves its purpose.

“Something might what? Letting you believe what?” His voice pleaded, but I was already back in control. He squatted down in front of me, peering into me with dark brown eyes I knew our child would most likely have.

“Please shut the door tightly as you exit; sometimes the wind catches, and it comes ajar.” Lawson shook his head. Sick of my pride, my posture, or even worse, my presence.