Brothers of Darkness

Chapter 7

I'm pregnant.

Patrick struggled to find a word - any word. The only one that presented itself was, "What?"

Her shoulders sagged. "Yeah, that's what I said." She closed her eyes. "It isn't Mark's."

Patrick didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to think he'd kept his hands to himself, respected her f*****g relationship, while some other jackass hadn't. "Whose is it?" Then he realized he didn't really want to know. He didn't want involved with it.

"What did Mark say?"

"He doesn't know yet. No one does." She broke into a nervous smile. "Except you, I guess."

Though he understood conception, the ability to know who the father was confused him. "How do you know it's not his?"

"The timing is all wrong. Mark and I - it's been a minute. It's at least two months - this is the second period I've missed - and two months ago, Mark was still in Colorado, finishing his five month intern thing. He just got back six weeks ago."

Patrick couldn't find a flaw in the logic. "And you're sure that you're - ?"

"Yeah. I took the test today. God. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I guess you're going to have a baby."

She gave a sad sigh. "Yeah. I guess." She stared out into the distance. "I thought about getting rid of it, you know? But I don't think I could kill it. I mean I don't want a baby - God, I don't want a baby - but I don't think I could go that far. I've heard it haunts you forever."

He had no wisdom to share, so he mumbled, "Yeah, I could see that."

"And it's not the baby's fault. I don't want to kill it because I messed up. s**t. I should probably go to the doctor." She dabbed her eyes. "But I don't know how to go without Mark knowing." She turned to Patrick. "Do I look like I'm gaining weight?"

He let his eyes run up and down her body; over her rounded breasts, down to her hips, then the length of her legs, and up again, to her worried face. "I don't know."

"I am." She leaned on the fence again. "My clothes barely fit and my bras are too small. God. He's gonna notice."

"Eventually," Patrick agreed. Then again, Mark might not. Hell, she could give birth in the chair next to him as long as football or one of those dumb car shows were on TV.

She fell into a pensive silence, only to break it with, "Man, it's cold."

As if her words turned on his awareness, he noticed she was shivering. With a silent groan, he plucked his coat off and dropped it over her shoulders.

"Thanks. You always were sweet, Pat." She gazed at the sky wistfully. "Sometimes I wonder why we broke up."

Patrick reached for a cigarette, but they were in his coat pocket. With nothing else to do, he dropped his hands. He didn't want to have this conversation; didn't want to think about it. "I don't know. It was your idea."

She sighed. "I was stupid. I'm always stupid." She turned her face to his, suddenly too close. He could feel her warm breath on his winter chilled skin, see the tears that sparkled in her eyes, see where her lipstick crinkled at the corners of her mouth -

She kissed him. She tasted like cherries and alcohol. Before his foggy brain processed the action, his lips were already participating.

"What the f**k?"

The kiss broke and Patrick swiveled his head in time to see Christenson and Mark storming toward him. He was conscious of a vague watery thought.

Oh s**t.

The punch landed like a ton of bricks. Patrick stumbled backwards and landed on the fence. His knees crumpled at the impact and he dropped to the ground. Something warm and wet ran down his face and he licked it experimentally. Salty.

"What in the f**k do you think you're doing, Mullens?" Christenson screamed. He stood over Patrick swinging his ham hock fists. "I'm gonna kill you, you slimy little b***h. I told you before to stay the f**k away from my sister!"

Mark stood behind him, his outraged eyes wide as they swiveled from Patrick to Hailey. She bit her lip and shrank back, conspicuously silent.

Patrick climbed sloppily to his feet. He swiped the blood from his face and wiped it on his jeans. He gave Hailey one more chance to say something, one more chance to tell them what happened.

She said nothing.

"f**k this." He pushed himself off of the fence and stood, swaying before her furious brother. Bitterness and anger crashed through him. That was just like Hailey to leave him to shoulder the blame. It was just like everyone. He was sick of it. Sick of taking the blame for everyone else's bullshit. Sick of being their f*****g whipping boy.

"You know what, Christenson, you tell your sister to stay away from me." From the corner of his eye he saw Hailey flinch and it filled him with - what? Satisfaction? - so he added, "I've already been there once and I ain't going there again. It wasn't worth it the first time."

Mark shouted something, but it was lost under the sound of Christenson's fist slamming into Patrick's stomach. He fell backwards, bent double, and landed on his knees, all the air gone from his lungs. Christenson made to swing again, but Anthony jumped in the way.

"What the f**k do you think you're doing?"

"Get out of the way or I'll f**k you up, you little piss-"

Anthony wielded his cell phone like a weapon. "And I'll call the cops, you f*****g jackass. So back the f**k off."

Christenson looked ready to chance it, but Mark snarled, "Then you better get him outta here! Both of you. Get out of here and don't ever come back!" He jerked the coat off of Hailey's shoulders and threw it to the ground, then dragged her toward the house. "You've got five minutes, then I'm calling the cops!"

Christenson growled. "The next time I see you, I'm gonna rip your head off, Mullens!" Then he turned on his heel and stormed toward Mark. "Get your hands off of her!"

Anthony knelt next to Patrick. "Man, what did you do?"

He gasped out the first words that came to mind, "Hailey's pregnant."

"What the f**k? Is it yours?"

Patrick shook his head. "No. But it ain't - ain't Mark's." He coughed and used Anthony to climb to his feet. "She f*****g kissed me. That's when dipshit came out."

Anthony cleared his throat. "f**k this party. It's lame anyway, not really where I want to be at midnight. We can go hang at Twila's."

Patrick didn't argue.

Midnight found Patrick sprawled on the floor of Twila's front room. He was vaguely aware of an empty bottle near his head and a pair of lips kissing their way across his jaw and down his throat. He focused on the tangle of dark hair and recognized one of Twila's friends. Or maybe it was her roommate's friend. It didn't matter. When he closed his eyes they were all the same.

And none of them were Hailey.