Chapter 3 Unexpected turns

The soft knock on my door came exactly as I'd expected.

"Kaira? I'm coming in," Tony said.

I quickly composed myself. When Tony entered, his face was filled with the same pity I'd grown accustomed to seeing from him.

"Are you... Okay?" He asked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm fine," I said, forcing a weak smile.

"Thank you for what you did out there. You didn't have to..."

"Why not?" His interruption came quickly and intensely.

"I should have stepped up sooner, then it might not have turned out this way. I'm sorry, Kaira. I'm so sorry for all of this. It's my fault." Tonia added.

"You are someone special.. and I.. I let them continuously hurt you for so long. I was a fool.."

The genuine remorse in his voice made my throat tighten. I looked away, afraid I might cry.

"And now, they want you to go to the grocery store," he continued, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

"I know it's not fair, I.. let me go with you.. "

"No. You don't have to. I'll be fine, brother." The word slipped out naturally.

But Tony's face crumpled at the word. He made a small clicking sound with his teeth, a nervous habit I'd noticed whenever I called him brother, but I never understood why. He prefers I call him by his name.

The sadness in his eyes deepened, and I wondered what memory I'd triggered.

He let out a deep breath, his head facing downward,

"Please forgive me. My cowardice ends today." He said, intensely.

I replied with a nod and stood to leave, but his hand caught mine.

"Wait. I'll be right back." He said.

"But.." I was cut off as soon as I started talking.

"I've got you," he said simply, and disappeared from the room.

He returned minutes later with a tube of pain relief gel.

"Thank you," I breathed, accepting the tube with trembling fingers.

I began applying it to the visible bruises on my arms, but when I tried to reach the spots on my back, Tony stepped forward.

"Let me." He said.

I hesitated before slowly lifting the back of my shirt, exposing the red welts left by the mop handle. His intake of breath was sharp, pained.

"Ouch!" The exclamation escaped before I could stop it as the gel touched a particularly tender spot.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured, his touch becoming even gentler.

"I'll be more careful."

His hands were steady as they worked, applying the medicine carefully. When he finished with my back, he guided me to sit on the bed again.

"I'm not finished yet." He said.

"Is there more?" I asked.

"Your face. Some parts are swollen." He replied.

My fingers moved to my cheek, finding the tender spots I'd somehow missed.

As Tony began applying the gel to my face, his movements slowed. His eyes grew distant, and his hand lingered on my cheek with a gentleness...

"Tony?" I called softly.

No response. His thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone as if he were memorizing it.

"Tony?"

Still nothing. His breathing had changed, and there was something in his expression I couldn't quite read..

"Brother!" I said more firmly.

He blinked, startled back to the present.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I was..." He pulled his hand away abruptly, color rising in his cheeks.

"I'm done." He finally said, calmly.

I stood to leave, genuinely grateful.

"Thank you," I said.

His hand caught mine again, holding me in place with surprising strength.

"What are you doing? They're waiting outside. I'll only complicate things if I don't leave now, Tony."

"I know. But, Kaira..." He paused, struggling with words that seemed too heavy for his tongue.

"I-I.." He stuttered.

"Is it really true that you don't remember anything about it?" He asked.

Before I could answer, he continued,

"No, it's a good thing you don't remember him." He said.

"I'll come with you, Kaira. Let's go to the hospital before Dad's return. Let's abort the baby." He said, in a serious tone.

The betrayal hit me.

"Even you?"

The words slipped out before I could stop them, carrying all the hurt and disappointment of discovering that my last ally had joined them.

"Let go of my hand," I said weakly.

He released me just as weakly, and I walked away from him, feeling more alone than I ever had...

* * *

Inside the car, Damien James stared out the tinted windows as the city blurred past. The conversation with his father replayed in his mind, but it was overshadowed by the growing clarity of that night.

"Take me to the sketch artist downtown," he told his secretary.

Soon, they arrived there. The artist asked detailed questions as her pencil moved across the paper. Eye shape, nose, the curve of lips, the way her hair had fallen across her shoulders..

"Yes, this is it. I think." Damien studied the finished portrait.

He handed the portrait to his secretary. "Find her. Everywhere and anywhere. She must be found, no matter what it takes."

The secretary bowed slightly.

"Yes, sir. Any particular place you have in mind?"

Damien paused.

"Check the bars first. The Meridian, The Glass House, places like that." He said, unsure.

As his secretary left with the portrait, Damien settled back into his car.

"Dad, just a little more time. You'll get what you want. The marriage.. but not with Sarah." He said, inwardly.

* * *

The neighborhood felt different as I stepped outside to go to the grocery store. Eyes followed me from different directions.

"Tonia. She's done her specialty again." I said, inwardly.

Tonia had always been gifted at spreading gossip, turning small truths into dramatic scandals. Just in for my downfall.

Mrs. Chen, who lived three houses down, deliberately stuck her foot out as I passed. I stumbled, my hands scraping against the floor as I caught myself.

"Oops," she said.

"How clumsy. I'm sorry." She added, faking an apology before leaving.

Before I could get up, two girls from high school approached me. Both were younger sisters of Tonia's friend

"Look who it is," the taller one sneered.

"The neighborhood's newest prostitute." She added.

"I heard she doesn't even know who the father is," her friend said, mockingly.

The familiar shame began to rise in my throat. Together with anger that burned away the self-pity I'd been drowning in.

"So what?" I stood up, brushing dirt from my hands.

"Why do you even care when you're not the one carrying the baby?"

The taller girl's eyes widened with surprise.

"Look at her, raising her voice at us. Do you think you're special because you have a bastard inside you? You should be ashamed!" She said, in a bit louder voice.

"A bitch carrying a bastard," her friend chimed in with a cruel laugh.

"How ridiculous." How ridiculous.

The word hit me like a slap, but instead of crumbling, I stood up.

"I advise you girls to leave. Now." I said, firmly.

"Or what?" They retorted with a scoff.

"People will always believe a lie," I said, my voice steady despite the fury coursing through me, "because they want it to be true or are afraid it might be true," I added, letting out a short smile.

"People who get swayed by gossip don't care about the truth anyway."

I dusted off my clothes and walked past them, deliberately bumping the second girl's shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.

They stood there with their mouths open, shocked by this version of me they'd never seen before.

"My baby did nothing wrong," I said to myself, inwardly as I walked away with my head held high.

"He isn't even born yet, and he's already being treated like this. No matter what happens, I won't let my child see me broken. I won't let him be treated the way I've been treated." I added.

The grocery store was just across the main street now. Lost in thought, about how my future had turned, I stepped off the curb without looking.

The screech of brakes and the blare of a horn pierced the air. I looked up to see a black sedan bearing down on me, the driver's eyes wide with panic behind the windshield.

Time slowed. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare at the approaching car.

Then something slammed into me from the side...

Strong arms wrapped around me as we both tumbled away from the car, rolling across the rough asphalt in a tangle of limbs.

The sedan squealed past, missing us by inches.

I lay there gasping, my rescuer's weight pinning me to the ground. When I finally looked up, I found myself staring into familiar eyes.

"Are you hurt?" he gasped, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead where he'd hit the pavement. His eyes were filled with concern.

"Oliver James?"

* * *