“You’re proud to be a Griffin? Are you fucking kidding me? You’re so proud to be a Griffin you would soil my name, my father’s name, by knocking up some gold digging whore and proclaiming her offspring a Griffin? You want to show him what being a Griffin is all about? How?”

  He shook his head and held his hands out.

  “You don’t know the first thing about being a Griffin. You are a loser. You are a disgrace to the Griffin name. You have no pride in me, your sisters, or your mother for that matter. At least she understood to keep her indiscretions a secret.”

  I started to stand up, to defend myself, but I settled back in my chair when I looked over and saw Erin crying through my own tears. She sobbed, but remained silent and listened to my father destroy me.

  “Let me tell you what it means to be a Griffin. A Griffin has ambition, drive, and goals. He works hard and fights for what he wants. He takes advantage of what his legacy offers him and doesn’t shit on it like you have. Do you understand what I mean? Now I’m not saying we are perfect—far from it—but when a Griffin makes a mistake, he fixes it. That’s all I ask you to do. Fix the problem.”

  I stood up and headed out of the room, but didn’t get three steps before Dad grabbed my arm and turned me around.

  “Do you understand, Joshua Elijah Griffin? You need to fix this problem. Griffins fix their problems. You need to fix it, or I will.”

  Dad enunciated each word slow and steady, but his face turned a deep purple and red. His eyes, so calm minutes ago, were bloodshot, and sweat popped out on his forehead. He never lost control.

  It struck me, the extraordinary nature of the situation. When I had broken into the high school at fourteen and trashed the principal’s office, my father chastised me in a calm tone and paid to renovate the principal’s office. Done, settled.

  At sixteen, I got in a fight at school, and the principal expelled me for two weeks. I broke the kid’s jaw. He smoothed out the situation, paid for the kid’s medical bills and a nice vacation for his family to Europe, and the next week, I transferred to another school.

  My latest arrest, he picked me up from the station house deep in the heart of Gator country. My dad, Mr. Florida State, charmed these men into expunging my record and turning down the offer when they said they would name the new addition to the city hall after him. I laughed, remembering the joke he made about the only yards a Griffin wanted in Gainesville belonged to those located in the Swamp every other year. The Swamp was what they called the University of Florida football stadium.

  I peered around my father and locked eyes with Erin. She pleaded with me to fall in line without uttering a word.

  “Son, you need to fix this.” His last words rolled around in my brain as I headed out of my family home. I took one look back, and my heart ached for what I was giving up, but I had no choice.

  ***

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  I tried not to freak out when I didn’t hear from Josh yesterday. I figured he needed more time with his family. We planned to stay in Dallas for at least six months.

  By Friday, I started to worry. I called Erin, but she wouldn’t tell me how their conversation with their dad went. All she said was that Josh left. He headed back to school right after dinner. Maybe he stopped at his mom’s place in Daytona.

  By Saturday morning, anger replaced my worry. Utter disappointment shook me. Gut-wrenching, sob-worthy disappointment in Josh and myself for believing in him.

  Walking on campus, I ran into Jackson sitting at a table in the student union, studying and eating lunch.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Look at you.” His eyes went straight to my belly.

  “I know. I’m huge.”

  “No, you look great.” He reached out to touch my stomach, but then stopped himself.

  “Go ahead, everyone else touches it.”

  He laid his hand flat on the side of my stomach, and the baby kicked.

  “Whoa.”

  “I know. Freaky, right?”

  “That’s insane.” He moved his hand up a little and the baby kicked him again, right in the middle of his palm. “Does it hurt?”

  “No, it feels like this.” I thumped him with my index finger on his chest. “But from the inside out. It feels foreign.”

  He laughed and removed his hand. I tried to smile, but as usual, he saw right through me.

  “Hey, sit down. You okay?” he asked.

  “No, not really. Josh went home on Thursday to see his family, and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Jackson appeared concerned, but not surprised.

  “Has he called you?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “When did he say he would be back?”

  “He said he would come right back, but that was two days ago. I called Erin, and she said he left Thursday night after dinner.” Jackson’s face remained emotionless, which was odd. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Jackson leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.

  “I don’t want to worry you.”

  “I’m worried. You know where he is?”

  “No, I don’t, but—” His gaze made me uncomfortable, like he needed to figure out whether to tell me something or not. “Usually, when he disappears for a day or so, it means he’s using again.”

  I knew this, but someone needed to say it out loud for it to make sense.

  I leaned back in my chair and wrapped my arms around my belly. A position I’d perfected out of maternal instinct, shielding my baby from negativity.

  “We were supposed to leave tomorrow,” I said and hid my face in my hand as the tears started to form.

  “Carrington, I’m so sorry. Don’t cry. You’ll upset the baby.”

  His concern for the baby made me laugh.

  “You are so sweet to me,” I said as I laughed through my tears.

  He knelt next to me and held me. His strong arms surrounded me, protecting me, caring for me. I leaned on his shoulder and thought about how I’d be content to stay there forever

  “If it’s any consolation, I think he tried. You know, because of the baby.”

  “Yeah, well, like I told you before, it’s not our job to save him.” I let go of Jackson, and he sat back in his chair. “Do you think he’s been using all semester?”

  “Well, I know he stopped going to class. His English professor asked me if he had withdrawn from school.”

  “God, I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

  “Well, he’s pretty good at making people see what he wants them to see. He wanted you to see him as a devoted boyfriend and up until now, he has been, right?”

  “Yeah.” I bit my top lip and closed my eyes. “I can’t wait on him. I don’t have the energy anymore, but—”

  “What?”

  “I want to go home. I don’t want to be around when he finally shows up.”

  “Are you okay to fly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, let’s get you a plane ticket.”

  I walked back to the frat house with Jackson. We purchased a ticket for the following morning. Jackson said he would take me to the airport. I wanted to head back to my dorm and continue packing and try to hold it together until I made it back home. I wanted states between Josh and me.

  Being in the frat house, a pang of sadness hit me. I realized how much time I’d spent at the house over the last few months. I promised myself not to start down the road of everything I would miss, because I chose to have this baby instead of the college experience I’d promised myself nine months ago.

  I made these choices, I put myself in this situation, and I needed to make the best of it. It wasn’t Josh’s fault. I participated in our reckless relationship dynamic. I indulged him because the intensity excited me, and it felt good. My inexperience allowed him a kind of control over our relationship. He needed to deal with the shit in his life, but I figured we could work on it together. It never crossed my mind how that dynamic would play out in our little family.

  I shook my head at myself for being so naive and reckless.

  I stopped myself from worrying about Josh. I wanted no part of being with someone unless my baby and I were his number one priority, and Josh’s addiction didn’t allow a lot of room for anything else.

  I’d left a few items in Josh’s room. Jackson unlocked the door.

  “Take your time, I’m going to grab a book and I’ll walk you back to the dorm when you’re ready,” Jackson said.

  I put a hand on his arm. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

  “I like looking out for you.” Jackson placed his hand on the side of my face and stared down. I started to tilt my head up, but he leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. He opened Josh’s door and headed down the hall to his room without looking back.

  I peered into the room before entering. I half expected to see Josh lying in bed asleep or on the couch watching television, but there was no sign of him. His room looked the same as we left it on Thursday morning.

  I found a couple of items of clothes I’d left in the closet. I went into the bathroom to get my t-shirt off the back of the door.

  When I came back out into his room, I gasped and froze. Josh stood by the door with his back to me. He shut the door and locked it; the sound of the click from the lock amplified in my head. I studied him from behind. He wore the same jeans and t-shirt he wore last time we spoke. His hair lay matted and flat against his head.

  “Josh,” I whispered.

  He turned around and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His face was tinted a pale grey color, but his lips were blue. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at my belly. He wouldn’t raise his head to look me in the eye.

  Josh,” I said louder this time. He didn’t flinch.

  The urge to get out of here grew intense the longer he stared at me. I grabbed onto the doorframe of the bathroom so hard, my hand started to ache. Josh took a small step toward me and whispered something.

  “What?” I asked.

  He whispered, and I strained to hear him. Every fiber in my being told me I needed to get out of there.

  I sidestepped Josh’s bed in order get out of his immediate path and proceeded to the door, but stopped in my tracks at the sound of his voice.

  “I need to fix it. My dad said I was a Griffin, and I had a responsibility to fix it.” I broke out in a sweat from the tone in his voice. I bit my lip to avoid screaming and moved slowly, not wanting to make any sudden moves. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and willed myself to keep walking until I reached the door. I only made it halfway, one step past him.

  “Jackson,” I screamed.

  Josh turned. He grabbed me from behind. He pulled me into him. He smelled like garbage and his breath smelled like shit. His other hand wrapped around my stomach over my own arms, and he pressed. He stepped back and threw me onto his bed. I rolled off and landed hard on the floor face-down. I gripped my stomach and tried to take a mental inventory, but my mind went blank when Josh kicked me. It shocked me more than it hurt. His foot hit my arm, but I moved to examine it and his next kick landed full force on my stomach.

  It knocked the wind out of me. I rolled onto my side away from him. Trying to crawl under the bed, but the clearance wouldn’t allow me. Josh kicked again. It landed in the center of my back, and the pain radiated through my body, and my legs fell numb.

  Josh reached down and grabbed my arm so hard I thought he’d pulled it out of the socket. He dragged me to the center of the room and pushed me onto my back.

  He straddled me and felt around on my stomach. He squeezed several areas, and I recoiled on the inside, willing my child to find a safe place. Josh pushed on my stomach, feeling for our baby. I fought him off with one arm and attempted to protect my baby with the other. I scratched, pinched, and punched, but it did nothing to stop him or slow him down.

  I registered yelling, and someone banging on the door, and a small glimmer of hope entered my mind, telling me to hold on. Help was on the way.

  He put all his weight on one side and punched the other. I cried out again, but it only made him hit me harder. I gave up on trying to hurt him and used both arms to protect my baby. Then, he hit me in the face. His fist landed on the side of my head and my vision blurred. I started losing consciousness.

  I yelled inside my head, “No! No! No!”

  I willed my mind not to pass out. I needed to remain conscious. I prayed Jackson could hear me. I prayed he would find a way in and save me, but another blow landed across my mouth and a hand wrapped around my throat.

  My vision blurred. The scene played out in slow motion in front of me. Josh on top of me, his knees digging into my stomach. The rage emanated from his eyes as spit trickled from his face. He hovered over me, trying to choke me. My hand flew up to my neck as I tried to pull his hands away, and this left my stomach exposed, so he returned to punching and kneeing as I coughed and gasped for air.

  He stopped for a minute and leaned down, his mouth close to my ear.

  “I’m sorry, Carrington.” Tears fell out of his eyes and dropped onto my face to mix with my own. “I love you so much, but I have to fix this.”

  The pain from the blows to my stomach hurt so much. If I felt it, I was sure my baby felt it, too. The sense of being pregnant, of having something growing inside of me, faded away.

  It didn’t matter.

  I dropped my arms, and the world faded away along with the pain.

  Time to let go.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Carrington Olivia Butler

  I heard the commotion but kept my eyes shut. Fear paralyzed me and I held my breath waiting for it to end. Even behind my closed eyes, I saw Josh’s face hovering over mine. The pain on my face from Josh hitting me subsided or maybe the intense pain radiating from the inside out took over. A vise gripped my insides and twisted it.

  Holy heck, it hurt.

  I had a moment of relief when I no longer felt Josh’s weight on me. I rolled over on my left side and wrapped my arms around my stomach and the pain went away.

  “Brandon, get him out of here,” Jackson yelled, but he sounded a million miles away.

  Relief washed over me as I opened my eyes and found Jackson kneeling next to me holding my hand. I closed my eyes and concentrated on his hand rubbing mine. He whispered in my ear, “Hold on, Carrington. Help is on the way. Don’t move.”

  I barely understood the words, but the tone of his voice comforted me. I gripped his arm when another pain clenched my stomach, and I screamed for it to stop.

  Thankfully, it did.

  Jackson’s tears fell, but he tried to smile through them. I tried to speak, but the pain in my throat prevented any sound; I only erupted in a fit of coughs until another pain clenched my stomach, and I squeezed Jackson’s arms harder. His eyes widened, but he took my pain.

  “The baby’s gone,” I whispered. Jackson’s face inched closer to mine.

  “No, he’s fine. You’re both going to be fine. Hold on.”

  Someone yelled Josh’s name and Jackson’s head turned.

  “Where’s Josh?” I asked.

  He lowered his head down and whispered, “Don’t worry about it. I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”

  The contraction stopped, and I relaxed my grip and concentrated on breathing.

  “Don’t leave me alone. Okay?” I asked, but before he answered, the paramedics arrived and pushed him out of the way.

  I reached out for him, but the paramedics turned me over on my back and started working on me. One guy sat next to me and grabbed my arm. He put a blood pressure cuff on me as he asked me questions.

  “Miss, can you tell me your name?” he asked as he took my heart rate. “Let’s get a baby monitor on her,” he directed.

  “Carrington,” I whispered.

  “Hi, Carrington. My name is Ryan,” he said. “How far along are you?”

  “Twenty-nine weeks.”

  “Are you feeling contractions?” he asked as another contraction squeezed my gut, worse than the others. I screamed and tried to sit up. Ryan held me down.

  “Okay, Carrington, I need you to listen to me. Do not push. Breathe through it but don’t push. I’m going to feel to make sure the baby isn’t coming, okay?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Carrington, I need you to say okay.”

  “Okay, okay.” The pain subsided a little but not completely as Ryan felt between my legs. The other paramedic kneeled on my other side to start an IV.

  “Carrington, this is Mike.”

  “Hi,” Mike said.

  The paramedics spoke over me, and their medical dialogue made my head hurt. I heard the words ‘stop her labor’ and ‘sedate her.’

  “Carrington, Mike’s going to give you an IV, so we can get medicine in your system to stop your contractions, and we are going to give you a sedative so you won’t be in pain when we transport you. Okay?”

  I looked around the room and found Jackson leaning over the paramedic. He smiled and nodded his head.

  “Okay.”

  I felt a pinprick in my arm, and I tried to concentrate on Jackson’s face, but soon the world faded away, along with the pain.

  It took me a few tries to open my eyes. I thought minutes had passed between moments of consciousness, but for all I knew it was days. I woke up once and started sobbing and crying, and the pain or the medication or both knocked me back out.

  The next time, I forced my eyes to stay open. I surveyed the room. Light from the hallway allowed me to see my surroundings. I was in a hospital room. The smell of antiseptic, combined with sickness, swirled around my nose. The sound of hushed tones drifted in the room from the hallway. Surrounding the bed, monitors blinked, but the room was quiet.

  I lifted my left arm, and an IV protruded from the inside of my elbow. I turned my hand over. Bruises marked my hands and arms.