“What? No. It’s not a trap.” I reached for the test, but he held it out of distance from my fingertips.
He closed his eyes for a brief second. “Here’s what is going to happen, young lady. You’re going to go pack your things. Tell your aunt you were enrolled in an early program. You start driving.”
I shook my head. He was insane. “What are you talking about? No. I’m not doing that.”
He grabbed me by the arm, shoving me into the front of my vehicle. “You are.”
“I’m going to Saints College with Blake.”
“You’re going to any school but that one. I’ll pay for the transfer. I’ll pay for whatever I have to.”
The tears welled in my eyes before I could form words. “No. He has a right to know about his baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
He looked me in the eye. “What he has a right to is a future. A life of opportunity. You think I’m going to let my only son. The only person in this family with a real shot of leaving this village, squander it away because he knocked up some girl? I’m not.”
“I’m not some girl,” I fired back.
“He’ll forget about you in two weeks. That’s all he needs. Two weeks to get unbrainwashed. Football and college and you’ll be a memory, Sierra.”
“Why would you do this to your son? To your grandchild?” It made me sick making that connection, but it was true. I was carrying Roger Wyatt’s grandchild. His own flesh and blood.
“Because I love him more than anything. Anything. And he’s not yours. You hear me? Get your ass off this island.”
“Or what?” There was nothing he could say that would make me do this. I’d never leave Blake. I couldn’t pack up and pretend school started early. I had nowhere to go. No money. And now I was pregnant. Everything that was happening terrified me.
“I’ll tell him it isn’t his.” He snarled at me. “I’ll make him hate you. I’ll make him despise you. I’ll tell him that everyone has been talking about how you slept with Johnson Davis.”
“I did not. He knows I would never cheat on him.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you did. Maybe Blake needs to hear what a lying slut you really are.”
The tears mixed with my mascara and the burn was almost unbearable.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Take the deal. Take my money. Get off the island by tomorrow. I’ll keep him so busy tonight he’ll be too tired to call you. I’ve got sanding that needs to be done.”
“We could have the baby together.” I tried to convince him. “Raise your grandchild like a family.”
I looked around desperately for Blake’s mother. She was my salvation. The one chance I had of staying. She would never send away her first grandchild—never.
He laughed. “Family? You don’t even know who your parents are. You’ve been raised by some woman you think is your aunt.”
The anger rammed through my lungs.
“Oh my God.”
“Yep. So pack up. And don’t communicate with my son. It’s the only chance you have of saving any reputation you have.”
“Martha will want to know,” I pleaded.
I saw the man I had begun to despise choke back a sob. It was instinct, but I rushed to his side. Carefully, I touched his shoulder.
His angry eyes peered at me.
“We haven’t told Blake yet.”
“Told him what?” I asked.