Another week passed. Olivia continued to ignore Charles' calls and letters. She was hoping he would forget about her existence and leave her alone.
Over the course of that week, Olivia had planned out what she would need to do with this baby. At the end of the month, she would move to Metropolis and hopefully find a job. For the duration of her pregnancy, she would work there under a different name, find a family willing to adopt her unborn child, and forget about Charles Branden. She would get rid of the thing the moment it was out of her and would be on the next train back to Gotham. By then, Charles would have forgotten about her and moved on with his life.
She could only hope for the best.
Olivia stood in the kitchen and rummaged through the freezer in search of the strawberry ice cream she had purchased the previous night. A knock on the front door interrupted her search.
"Just a minute," she called as she continued to dig. "I swear, if Dee ate it…Nope, here it is."
She grabbed a spoon and ran for the door with her ice cream in hand. After undoing the lock, she swung open the heavy door and nearly dropped her food.
"Charles," she squeaked out. "W-what are you doing here?"
The man leaned against the doorframe. His light green eyes were bloodshot and stubble was growing along his jawline.
"I need to talk to you," he said quietly.
Olivia frowned. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be on her doorstep. How had her perfectly laid out plan fallen apart so quickly?
He would want an explanation and by the looks of it, he wasn't leaving without one. Olivia swallowed nervously. "You shouldn't be here."
He ignored her statement. "Can I come in?"
"I don't think so."
The older man sighed. "Olivia—"
"I have nothing to say to you, Charles," she firmly stated.
He looked deflated and she fought the desire to throw her arms around his neck and make him feel better. No! her conscience screamed. He's the one who got you into this predicament. Don't comfort him.
"That's it, then?" he managed to get out. Charles looked down at her, his face serious, his eyes pleading. "Two weeks without a single word and you're just calling it off?"
"What is it that you get from this relationship?" she exclaimed. There was nothing to it! She was his hooker, he was her client.
Saying it made the situation seem easier. Inside, she could feel her heart being torn to pieces. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. No one had ever truly cared like he did…
Stop it.
Charles looked angry now. He took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "Are you even going to give me an answer as to why you're ending it?"
She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Mentally, she kicked herself. It hadn't even occurred to her that he would want an explanation. She didn't have a lie on hand and she doubted telling him she had gotten bored with him would be a satisfactory answer.
Olivia was left speechless. She stared down at her shoes shamefully.
"Is it because of your occupation?" he quietly asked. "Do you think you're just my whore or something?"
"Yes, Charles," she spat out. "That's all I am and that's all I ever will be."
"That's not true, Olivia," he snapped. "I know you don't believe me when I say it, but I do not view you that way. You're not just some whore I got off the streets, I genuinely care—"
"But that's exactly what I am!" she cried. Olivia pressed her hands to her face, failing to fight off the tears. In a muffled voice, she added, "That's all I am. A dirty whore you got off the streets."
His hands gently wrapped around her wrists. "It doesn't have to be that way."
Olivia jerked back and angrily wiped at the tears. "But it is, Charles! Look at us! You're a wealthy man and I'm a slut. Even if we tried to make it happen, it would never work."
She retreated back into the apartment, not wanting him to see her cry. Charles followed and closed the door behind them. He licked his lips, frustrated by her stubbornness.
"Listen to me," he said carefully. "I don't care what anyone else thinks about us. I know how I feel about you and I want you in my life."
"You have a wife," she choked out.
"Don't talk about her," Charlie snapped. She instantly shut up and stared at him, suddenly afraid. "I never want to hear you speak of her. The only thing that keeps us together is a marriage contract. Our marriage ended long ago."
"Then why are you still with her?" she demanded.
Charlie looked away. "It's complicated…"
"I'm sure it is," she hissed. "You know what else is complicated? Engaging in relationships with your mistress. Like I said, it would never work."
"Olivia, I haven't felt this way about any other—"
"It's lust," she interrupted.
"Woman," he continued. "I know the difference between lust and lo—"
"Don't you dare give me that bullshit!" she warned. The tears were coming out uncontrollably and she was beginning to lose her grip on her sanity. "You know how many girls in this profession have been told I love you? You know what happens to them? They're cheated. They are promised love and that their man will leave their wife. They're promised stability and love and a safe haven but it never happens. At the end of the day, we're screwed over. You guys never truly want us. We're just toys for your entertainment. You think you love me? No, you just want a distraction from your wife. You could never truly care for me, Charles Branden. You will never love me, you will never want me, you will never want this child—"
She stopped as soon as she realized what had slipped out. Her breathing was ragged and her heart thundered against her chest. Charlie looked just as shocked as her.
"What did you just say?" he whispered.
She didn't respond.
"Olivia," he said sternly. His eyes were wide. "What did you just say?"
"I…I…" she whimpered. Her face contorted and she whispered, "Pregnant."
The air between them was tense. A pin dropped outside the hallway could break the deathly silence. Charlie stared at her, his jaw hanging.
"Pregnant?"
All she could do was nod.
"With…my…child?"
The sobs broke through her mouth. She nodded again.
Charlie looked as though he had seen a ghost. "I…I…" He shook his head and backed away. "I need to go."
He hurried out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him. Olivia's sobs echoed through the apartment. She slid down the wall and buried her face in her knees, unable to stop the tears.
. . .
Jonathan impatiently waited on the stone wall outside the main building for Brynn to arrive. It shouldn't have surprised him that she was over fifteen minutes late. When had she ever been on time for anything? Punctuality wasn't the girl's strongest point.
After twenty minutes, he was beginning to wonder if she had stood him up. She hadn't been as open with him for the last few days and Jonathan found it frustrating. The last few months all she ever did was talk nonstop and now she wouldn't say more than five words to him. For a moment, he had assumed that they were on good terms and were beginning to get along. Had he really thought he could ever be on good terms with a girl like Brynn?
The warm sun shining on his face made him drowsy. Jonathan shifted on the wall and lied down, covering his face with his Psychology text book. What was up with him lately? Why did he care so much about what she thought and what she had to say? And why on earth did he feel all warm whenever he thought about her?
The warmth angered him like no other. It snuck up on him at the most inconvenient times, starting in his stomach and twisting its way to his face, arms, legs, wherever it could reach. He had never experienced anything like it. It was getting worse, too. What had started off as a warm, tickling feeling in his stomach was transforming into an uncomfortably hot sensation that invaded every inch of his being. And it was all because of her.
He was beginning to wonder if she knew about the warmth and was worsening it on purpose. That had to be it. That explained why she had been acting so casual around him for the past two months. She knew how uncomfortable she made him with those teasing smirks and gestures and outrageous actions. The things she did unsettled him—half the time he found himself hating what she did; the other half, he couldn't get enough of it and wanted her to keep acting that way, to keep teasing him and driving him mad. The whole ordeal confused him horribly.
Snap out of it! He mentally screamed. He couldn't keep thinking this way. He had to get her out of his head.
Jonathan was beginning to think of all the negative things about her when he heard someone running up to him. The noise startled him and he jerked up, his textbook, as well as his glasses, falling to the ground.
"I'msosorry," Brynn gasped out. She doubled over and tried to catch her breath. Then she lifted a brown paper bag. "I got—bagels—and the line—was out the door."
Jonathan shook his head and jumped off the wall, blindly searching for his glasses. "Were bagels necessary?"
"Bagels are always necessary!"
She controlled her breathing and stood up straight again. Brynn reached into the bag and fished around. "I wasn't sure what kind you'd like so I got you a plain one."
Jonathan took it from her. "Thanks?"
She nodded. Brynn took out her own bagel and bit into it. "Did you bring your camera?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," he scolded her. "And yes, I brought it. Where did you want to start?"
Brynn swallowed and took a sip of the Coke she'd brought with her. "Hmm. I was thinking we could go out to the soccer fields. I saw some flowers blooming out there. Then we can move closer to the shops and take pictures of that."
"Works for me," he agreed.
Brynn led him away from the main building toward the fields. He trailed behind, observing. She seemed cheerful and light, excited to be working with film and the elements around her. There was a slight bounce in her step and she hurried once the fields were in sight. He couldn't understand what joy she found in this hobby. To him, it was a silly waste of time.
For the next twenty minutes, they clicked and snapped, capturing pictures of whatever caught their eye. Jonathan would take pictures at random, unsure of what he was supposed to be looking for. Brynn, on the other hand, was clicking nonstop, finding meaning in everything. The soccer net. Click. A tree off to their right. Click, click. The buildings of downtown Gotham that could be seen behind the trees. Click, click, click, click, click.
Jonathan stopped taking pictures and watched. Brynn was in the zone; she worked silently, her eyes constantly searching for a new subject. This was the first time he had witnessed her so…focused. It was interesting, observing her. It was like seeing her from a new perspective for the first time.
He was beginning to understand the meaning of the project.
Brynn finished up in the field and they headed off in the direction of the shops and restaurants. Jonathan walked with his hands in his pockets, silently observing. Her brow was furrowed as she flipped through the pictures she had taken, silently muttering to herself.
"You have an eye," Jonathan broke the silence, surprised by the compliment that had just slipped out of his mouth.
"Two, actually," Brynn replied.
He ignored her sarcastic remark. "Do you do this often? Walk around and take pictures of…whatever?"
"It's not 'whatever,'" she scolded him. "It's art. And not as often as I used to. School's gotten in the way."
"But you have time for partying?"
She didn't respond.
"That's what I thought," he smugly replied.
"Shut up, Brat," she fired back.
Jonathan frowned. "Of all the nicknames you could have given me, it's Brat."
"What do you want it to be?"
"I don't want a nickname at all."
"You have to have one."
"Why?" he asked.
"Your name's too long," Brynn said.
"It's only three syllables—"
"That's two syllables too many," she cut him off. "You need a nickname."
Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. What's my new name?"
"Bitchface."
"Brynn…"
She snickered. "Kidding! Hmm, let's see… I hate the name Jon. It's too boring and plain."
"Then don't use Jon."
Why on earth are you letting her give you a pet name? his logic shrieked. He shushed the voice inside his head and patiently waited to be renamed. The warmth was back and for once, he wasn't trying to dismiss it. He allowed it to grow inside him and course through his veins.
"What about—" Brynn abruptly stopped and froze. She grabbed Jonathan by the back of his sweater and pulled him back. Before he could protest, she pressed her finger to her lips.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
She pointed to a bush. "Bunny."
Sure enough, there was a fat, brown rabbit nibbling on a flower. It was oblivious that Brynn and Jonathan were in its presence. Brynn readied her camera.
"I want a picture," she whispered.
"Get a pictu—what are you doing?"
Brynn sank to the ground and crawled army style toward the rabbit. She turned around and motioned for Jonathan to follow.
"I'm not—"
She glared at him.
He sighed before dropping to his knees and crawling to her. This had to stop, he realized. He gave into her too easily.
"Could you be any louder?" she hissed. Brynn turned away and started clicking her camera. Jonathan lied next to her on his stomach, his chin resting on his hands. He watched the rabbit's nose twitch as soon as it realized it was being watched. The animal froze and its huge ears perked up. It stared at them for a few seconds before turning its attention back to its flower. Stupid thing, Jonathan thought. It should have scurried off when it realized there was a possible threat.
The grass made his skin itch. Jonathan's nose began to twitch violently. He fought the urge to sneeze, knowing that he would anger Brynn if he scared off the rabbit. He lost the fight in the end.
"Achoo!" he sneezed loudly.
The rabbit darted into the bushes. Brynn glared at him and flicked him on the forehead. "Way to go."
"I have allergies," he muttered.
Brynn rolled onto her back and began to inspect the pictures she had snapped. She muttered about the sun ruining one picture and another one being blurry. Finally, she sat up and look down at him.
"I've got it," she happily announced. There was a sparkle in her eyes and the sun bounced off her hair, causing it to shine.
"What?" he asked, confused by her sudden cheeriness.
"Your nickname," she explained as she stood up and wiped the grass off her shorts. "I have it."
"Oh," he replied as he pulled himself up. Dread washed over him. She was going to give him some ridiculous, crude nickname. How many of those had he acquired over the years?
"Jay," she surprised him.
"Jay?" Jonathan made a face. Well it was better than Bitchface…
"What? How do you not like it?"
He had come back to his senses and mentally kicked himself for allowing her to give him a nickname. He was a stupid fool. Jonathan arranged his features so he appeared bored. "I don't see why you can't use my actual name."
"Too long," she reminded him. That devilish smirk appeared on her face again. "Jay's a great nickname. It's cool and stylish."
"Stylish?" Jonathan flatly asked.
She nodded. "It's either Jay or Brat."
Jonathan huffed. "Don't overuse it."
She squealed with delight. "Okay, Jay."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm beginning to miss Brat…"
She stuck her tongue out at him and led him to town. For the remainder of the hour, they took pictures of the shops, benches, and other things. Jonathan estimated that Brynn had taken over a thousand photos during their time together. His rounded up to about fifteen.
Jonathan rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion was kicking in after the long session. He rolled his shoulders around and stretched out his arms.
Brynn's energy level was dropping as well. She yawned and looked at the younger boy. "What time is it?"
Jonathan checked his watch. "Quarter after."
"Shit," she muttered. "I have to meet up with Dominic and Terrence. We have enough, don't you think?"
Jonathan nodded. He tried not to let the fact that she was leaving him to hang out with those idiots bother him.
He removed his glasses and cleaned them with his sweater. "That wasn't as pointless as I had imagined. When will we finish this up?"
"I was thinking Sunday—" she paused and stared at him. "Take your glasses off again."
Jonathan's brow quirked up. "Why?"
She didn't give an explanation. Instead, she reached forward and snatched them. Jonathan blinked a few times as he adjusted his vision. The world around him was blurry.
"What are you doing, Brynn?" he snapped. "Give me my glasses back."
"Hold still," she muttered. She placed his glasses on top of her head, pushing her hair out of her face. "I want a picture."
"Of what?"
"Your eyes."
"My eyes?"
"Did I stutter?"
Jonathan stared at her incredulously. "Why on earth do you want a picture of my eyes?"
"Can I just take the picture?"
He sighed. "This is a waste of time—"
Brynn took a step closer to him and caught his chin with her hand. He inhaled sharply, unnerved by the fact that she was touching him. The heat reached a new high and spread throughout his body, causing his skin to tingle.
She tilted his head from side to side until she found an angle she liked. "Don't move."
Her hand left his chin. He was frozen.
Brynn brought her camera up to his face and started taking pictures. He didn't even flinch at the flash. All he could do was stare at her face and watch her dark eyes focus on him.
"That should do it," she said after a few shots, completely unaware of what she had just done to him. His glasses remained perched on top of her head.
He found his voice again and was relieved that it didn't come out as a squeak. "What was the point of that?"
She shrugged. "You have pretty eyes. I wanted a picture."
"Oh."
Brynn removed his glasses and shook her hair out. She slipped them back onto his face like it was no big deal. "Now I'm good. I'll call you later so we can finish up the project."
She disappeared down the street. Jonathan attempted to get his thoughts back in order.
The warmth in his stomach was viciously gnawing at him. It was at its worst ever.
. . .
He came back later that night. When Olivia tried to close the door on him, he stuck his foot in and stopped her.
"Please," he begged. "Let me talk to you."
"There's nothing to talk about," she whispered. Her eyes still stung from all the crying.
"Olivia," he whispered. His green eyes were sincere. "Please."
Olivia took a step back from the door and allowed him to enter. Charlie looked around the apartment slowly, his eyes taking in the chipped wall paper and stained carpet.
She left the room and went into the kitchen to make herself some tea. "Do you want anything?" she asked quietly when she heard him approach.
He shook his head.
They stood silently in her kitchen. The clock on the wall ticked loudly. Outside, cars could be heard honking at one another. Dee was with a client, leaving Olivia and Charlie alone.
He cleared his throat. "You're sure you're…pregnant?"
She nodded, unable to lift her eyes from the floor.
"How far along are you?"
She shrugged. "Not far. A few weeks."
Charlie sighed. "Was that why you were avoiding me? Were you afraid to tell me?"
Her vision blurred and the floor tiles morphed together. Olivia's face contorted and she quietly whimpered, "You left me when I told you."
The tears leaked from her eyes and splattered on the floor. She felt Charlie's arms wrap around her gently. She gave in and buried her face against his chest. The smell of his cologne wafted to her nose. He smelled like soap and spice, a scent that provided her comfort.
"I know," he whispered against her ear. "I'm so sorry, Liv. I was overwhelmed when you told me. I…I didn't know how to react. I won't leave again. I promise."
"You don't know that for sure," she miserably moaned.
"I do. I don't want to leave ever again," he whispered. Charlie pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "Look at me. Look at me, darling. I want to be with you. I won't leave again, I swear."
She calmed down a little. "What are we going to do about this?" Olivia pointed at her stomach.
Tentatively, Charlie placed his hand against her stomach. "I think that decision's up to you. You're the one carrying it."
"I don't want to raise a child by myself, Charles," she told him.
"I'll help."
"It'd be difficult." She turned away from him and walked over to the window. Outside, the sky had darkened and storm clouds were rolling in. She shivered; she hated thunder storms.
"You're right," he agreed. "There's no denying it. But I will be there to take care of him. I've always wanted a child, Liv. I don't have any of my own."
Her heart twisted. Don't let your emotions make this decision for you, a voice whispered. You need to take this seriously. Puppy dog eyes won't work.
"The child would forever live in shame," Olivia muttered. "Or in darkness. I don't think you'd want your colleagues finding out about your bastard child—"
"Olivia," he warned. "Don't refer to the child as a bastard. I will help take care of it. Yes, we'll have to stay quiet about it for now. At least until we know what to do. But it's your decision, Olivia. If you want this child, I will support you one hundred percent. If you don't, I suppose we could always put it up for adoption."
Those last words pained him, she could tell. He wanted the child. She could see the sincerity in his eyes when he proclaimed he wanted the child.
This wasn't a fairytale, however. She had to be realistic. There was always the chance that he eventually would walk out on them and leave them to fend for themselves. Olivia was in no position to support a child. She knew the hardships that followed. Her own mother had been a single mother whose husband had walked out on her. They had always been hungry, Olivia remembered. Her mother didn't bring in enough to support the family. She still remembered the ache in her stomach that was present whenever they were forced to miss a meal.
The responsible thing to do would be to put the child up for adoption. That way, it wouldn't be forced to live in shame its entire life. Olivia and Charlie could find a nice family with a white picket fence and a golden retriever to take care of their child.
But then again, did she really want to give up her first child? How would it affect her later in life? Would she feel constant guilt over giving her child up?
What do I do…?
"I want it," she surprised herself. Olivia closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I want to keep the baby."
She began to cry and Charlie held her close to him. "I'll take care of it," he promised her. "I'll be there every step of the way."
She held on tighter and prayed he would stay true to his word.
. . .
Brynn, Dominic, and Terrence Wheeler walked out of Checkers and were greeted by the cool, night air. It was close to nine o'clock and the trio had been wandering around for the last two hours. There weren't any big parties going on that night and all the usual hangouts had become boring.
"We could sneak into a club?" Terrence suggested.
"We did that last time," Dominic mumbled. He kicked a pebble and cursed when he stubbed his toe.
Brynn took a swig of the wine she'd managed to pass off as grape soda. Her senses were becoming fuzzy and there was a light pounding in her head. "Can we go downtown?"
"Do you want to get mugged?" Dominic asked. Brynn grimaced and took another sip of her wine.
Terrence reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie. Brynn's eyes widened when she realized what it was.
"Terrence, what the hell are you doing with that stuff?" she exclaimed. She watched as he rolled it up and lit it. The boy took a drag and sighed.
"Calm down, Brynnigans," Dominic said. Terrence past the baggie to him and he made his own joint. They stood on the street corner, taking drags and blowing out the smoke.
"Oh my god," Brynn muttered. She checked over her shoulder for any officers lingering around.
"Want some?" Terrence asked.
She glared at him. "I don't want to get caught with that stuff!"
He shrugged. "Suit yourself."
They smoked their joints and ten minutes later, Dominic's eyes were red. He yawned. "Let's go see a movie."
Terrence was the complete opposite. He was fidgety and speaking quickly. "No, let's go get food. I want pie. Pie's great. Do you like pie? Oh my god, pie—"
"Shut up!" Brynn groaned. "Why can't you be mellow like Dom?"
Dominic started tugging at her sleeve. "Brynn, come ooooon, I want to see a movie."
He dragged her down the street. Brynn had to coax Terrence to come with them and not wander into a nearby bakery. She cursed the two boys when they arrived at the movie theater for their stupidity.
"I want one…no, two," Dominic stated when he arrived at the ticket booth. "Mmm, naah, how about…five? Yeah, five for your eight o'clock."
Brynn covered her face with her hand. "Dom, it's nine thirty and there are three of us."
"I know that, Brynn," he snapped. He turned back to the wide-eyed girl selling tickets. "How about four tickets for…"
"I'm leaving," Brynn muttered. She started down the sidewalk, ignoring Dominic's calls to come back. Why were they such idiots? Everyone around them knew they were high off their asses…
Brynn turned down an empty side street, still grumbling about her friends' stupidity when she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced behind her, expecting to see Dominic and Terrence. Her heart dropped to her toes and ice settled over her body. Of all people…
"Brynn!" Riley called from the other end of the alley. From where she stood, she could make out his crooked grin. "Long time no see!"
She turned around and started walking faster. Her heart thumped violently against her chest. What had possessed her to take the side street? Of all people, she knew better than to take side streets in Gotham.
Riley and Griffin were ganging up on her. Brynn broke out in a sprint and ran as fast as she could. They had been closer than she had expected. Griffin grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. She slammed against the wall of a brick building, her head banging hard against it. Dark spots blemished her vision.
"Babe," Riley whined. "Why are you running from us?"
"We've missed you," Griffin added.
"Can't say the same about you two," Brynn spat. "I was enjoying your absence."
They chuckled darkly. "Spunky thing you are," Riley cooed.
Brynn wanted nothing more than to spit in his face. They had her cornered. She couldn't fight them off and wouldn't be able to run away without a distraction. Unfortunately, there were no hoses nearby to aid her.
"What do you want?" she growled, trying her best to keep her voice even. At this point, all she could do was pretend they didn't bother her. Then, maybe, they would leave her alone and grow bored with her. Maybe Jonathan's theory would work.
She highly doubted it.
"You know what we want," Riley said in a low voice. He brushed a piece of hair away from her face. "All-Stars treatment."
Brynn swatted his hand away from her face. "Over my dead body."
"I mean, if that's what it has to come to." Griffin shrugged.
"You're sick."
"Believe me, you're going to feel worse when we're done," Riley said. "Now, about that All-Stars treatment…"
Brynn stomped on his foot and dashed. She didn't get far before Griffin was pulling her back. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Brynn yelped when she felt Riley step on her foot.
"How do you like that, you bitch?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Doesn't feel so good, huh?"
"Go to hell," she gasped out. Griffin was pressing his arm against her throat. She clawed at his arm, desperate for air.
"Let up, Griff," Riley scolded. His arm fell away and she inhaled deeply. "Wouldn't want to kill her before she gives us what we want."
"I'm not giving you anything, you sleaze!" she roared.
"We'll see about that," he replied. "I wish that little fag was here. He could then see what we have in store for you."
She needed to get out of there. They were giving it to her one way or the other. Brynn kneed Griffin in the loin as hard as she could. The boy doubled over in pain. She blindly lashed out at Riley and missed. He had ducked and was lunging for her.
The next thing she knew, his fist was colliding into her face.
. . .
Brynn didn't remember waking up. She stared at the ground moving beneath her and felt her feet dragging over the earth. There was a horribly loud ringing noise in her ears and her head throbbed violently. Her limbs felt like they had been filled with cement and she wondered how it was possible that she was floating if she was so heavy.
Floating?
Brynn jerked when she realized there were arms wrapped around her back. Panic settled and she squirmed wildly. I need to get away, I need to get away, I need to get away.
"Shh, Brynn," someone on her right desperately said. She knew that voice. It belonged to someone close to her but she couldn't remember who. "Calm down. It's alright, we've got you."
Dominic.
On her other side was Terrence. They half carried half dragged her across the soccer fields quickly. She could smell the marijuana that they had inhaled earlier. It clung to them like perfume and wafted to her nose.
The pain hit her so suddenly and harshly she began to cry.
Shaky sobs escaped her mouth. Crying only intensified the pain and the pain made her cry harder. The two boys repeatedly shushed her, promising that she would be okay.
They arrived to a lit building. The mess hall, Brynn realized in her delirious state.
"Go get some ice and paper towels," Dominic told Terrence. "We need to clean up the blood."
Terrence ran inside and Dominic carefully led Brynn to the stone wall nearby and helped her sit on it. The pain had intensified and the bright lights that illuminated the sidewalk were no help. She whimpered and closed her eyes.
"Shh," he shushed her. He stood in front of her with his arms wrapped around her stomach. Brynn's face was pressed against his chest. "I've got you. You're okay."
Brynn pulled away and peeled her eyes open. Her wobbly vision focused on Dominic's face. He had a busted lip and a black eye was forming. There were dark blotches stained onto the fabric of his shirt where her face had been seconds ago. She shakily reached up to her mouth and pulled back, her fingers stained red.
Dominic pressed her against his chest again when her breathing hitched. "Don't look at it. We'll clean it up. You'll be okay."
The sobs were muffled against his chest. "Did they…?"
"No," Dominic growled. "They didn't. We got you right after that dickhole hit you."
She felt a tiny pang of relief. It quickly disappeared when she was reminded of the pain in her head.
The door to the mess hall opened and Terrence reappeared. His face was just as messed up as Dominic's.
Dominic grimaced when he was handed the ice. "Hold on, Brynnigans. This is going to sting."
He carefully pressed the ice to her face and she yelped. Brynn pressed her lips together, only to intensify the pain. She dug her nails into Dominic's arm as the ice brought tears to her eyes.
The door to the mess hall opened again and the three of them froze. Terrence blocked her view and at the moment, she could care less about who had just walked out. Her eyes were trained on Dominic's chest.
"What happened?" a voice demanded.
Brynn froze when she recognized the owner of the voice. No, not him, she miserably thought. Don't let him see me like this. Not him…
"Crane," Dominic said in a shaky voice. He kept his eyes trained on Brynn as he rubbed the ice against her battered face. "Now's not the time."
"Dom, stop," Brynn moaned. "It hurts."
He dropped the ice cube and brought her against his chest again. She closed her eyes; she didn't want to see Jonathan. She didn't want to be lectured. Not when she felt like this.
She heard the younger boy approach them. Go away, she pleaded. Brynn focused on the circles Dominic drew on her back with his knuckles. It distracted her from the pain in her face.
"What happened?" he asked again. His voice was low and harsh. Brynn was afraid to look up at his face and see the expression he wore. No doubt it would be one of disgust and disappointment.
Dominic could tell she wanted to stay hidden. He rested his chin on top of her head and angled his body to the right, blocking her from Jonathan's sight. "Can you not tell that you're unwanted here? Go back to your hole, Crane."
He ignored the jab. "What are you doing with the ice? You're supposed to put it in a bag and then on her face. Brynn, look at me."
She buried her face into Dominic's chest.
"Brynn—"
"I swear to God, Crane, if you're not out of here in the next five seconds, I'll murder you." Dominic backed away from Brynn and stared down at the younger boy.
The second Brynn was exposed, Jonathan's eyes landed on her. His nose twitched and he inhaled sharply. Jonathan looked back up at Dominic. "Why haven't you taken her to the hospital?"
"She's doesn't need to go to a hospital."
"Are you blind? Of course she does—" Jonathan paused midsentence and took a good look at Dominic. His eyes then jumped to Terrence and down to Brynn. She immediately looked down and focused on the cracks in the sidewalk.
Jonathan began to laugh. It was a low, humorless chuckle. "Of course. You idiots are high. That's why you can't take her to the hospital; you don't want to get caught."
"Get out of my sight," Dominic hissed. "She's our friend; not yours."
Jonathan shook his head. "You do a lousy job at taking care of your friends."
Dominic lunged and grabbed Jonathan by the shirt collar. He pulled his arm back to hit the younger boy.
"Dominic!" Brynn screeched. He stopped and stared at her, his eyes wild. He still held onto Jonathan by his shirt.
Brynn's voice dropped dangerously and her eyes seemed to turn darker. "Let him go."
Dominic reluctantly released him and Jonathan stumbled back. She turned her attention to him. "Jonathan. Leave."
He remained for a second longer. Finally, he shook his head and looked her in the eye. "You're an idiot."
His words stung greatly. Jonathan left the three of them alone. Brynn's head felt like it would explode at any moment. The tears began to roll from her eyes again.
Dominic hopped on the wall and sat next to her. He pulled her over and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Don't listen to him."
Brynn sank against him. "Don't leave me alone tonight. I don't want to be alone."
The boys dragged her back to their dorm. Brynn gratefully collapsed onto Dominic's bed. She was out the moment her head hit the pillow.
. . .
A/N: I'm sorry this is so long. I originally planned for this chapter to be two different chapters with other little scenes but I wanted to add them together. I'll try to minimize the next chapter hehe…
Shout out to fgjghjkgfkfgh, Amber, ElektraMackenzie, cbaudelaire, zulu, Yusuke, widdlehiddles, verdi, kitty, Roxie13, and mira for the reviews! Thanks to anyone who added the story to their alerts! All your reviews made me smile :)
Charlie found out about the baby! Olivia's not too happy about the pregnancy and it's kind of obvious that she's reluctant about keeping the baby. Their scenes will be occurring more often in the next few chapters. To be honest, the pregnancy goes rather smoothly. All the obstacles appear after little Brynn is born. It's going to be interesting…
So Riley and Griffin finally ganged up on Brynn… You could say this was an awakening for her. She won't be drunkenly wandering around the campus late at night anymore. Jonathan's going to lecture her BIG TIME in the next chapter. We'll see his darker side. He's not going to go easy on Brynn. He won't be too happy when he learns Riley and Griffin were responsible for it.
The poll for the sneak preview has been closed and the winner is the Batman Begins scene. It was close; it won by one vote. I forgot to mention that it doesn't take place during BB but a little bit before. For the time lapse, it goes from sophomore year to about a year before BB. To give you an idea of what's happening, Brynn and Jonathan have already met once but it was at a party. This scene is just the two of them alone. I'll start writing it now. I'm not sure when it will be up. Sometime between tonight and Sunday morning most likely. Keep your eyes peeled :)
Please leave a review! Reviewers will be permitted kick Griffin and Riley where the sun doesn't shine.