Authors: Brie Paisley
Temptation
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, places, character names, establishments, locations, or incidents are the work of the author’s imagination and is used fictitiously. If any resemblance of actual persons, dead or alive, places, locations, establishments, or events are coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Brie Paisley
All rights reserved. This book is not to be copied, shared, or produced in any way without the written consent of the author.
Cover art by: Rebecca Marie of The Final Wrap
Edited by: Karen Mandeville-Steer of Karen’s Book Haven Editing Services
Formatted by: Brenda Wright from Formatting Done Wright
There are so many people to thank, that I know I will forget if I start naming them off. So, instead of forgetting someone, I just wanted to say thank you for every single person that has helped me get to where I am now. I honestly have no idea if I would’ve finished this book as soon as I had without all the support from all of you. Y’all know whom I’m referring to! This amazing journey is far from over for me and I cannot wait to share it all with you again. I really don’t know how I can thank each and every one of you enough for everything!
Worshipped series
Worshipped-book one
Betrayed-book two
Coming soon:
Redeemed-book three of the Worshipped series
Table of Contents
My life’s ruined.
I can barely see two inches in front of me as unshed tears cloud my vision. I start crying hysterically, and I know I need to calm down, but I can’t. My life is over. All my plans for college and being a ballet dancer are no more. My dream that I’ve always wanted is just … gone. Everything has just ended with these two pink lines. How can two little lines destroy everything I have worked so hard to achieve? I put my hands over my eyes and slide down to the floor of my bathroom. My shoulders shake uncontrollably, and I know if I don’t calm down or at least be a little quieter, my mom will hear me. I’m not ready to see the look on her face when she realizes her baby girl got knocked up.
What am I going to do?
I know I need to tell my parents. They’ll help me figure out what I need to do. The best thing about my wonderful and loving parents is that they won’t judge me. Yes, they will be highly disappointed in me, but I know they will still be here for me and help me figure out what I need to do. I don’t even know if I should tell
him
yet. I know what he’ll say. He will want me to get rid of it, and I don’t think I can do that. I mean it’s a baby … It will be murdering a child. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I would put the baby up for adoption before I even consider aborting it. Malcolm’s going to be pissed at me. I know it takes two for shit like this to happen, but he will find a way to blame me. He always does. It’s who he is. The asshole never takes responsibility for anything. I should’ve known better when he tried for weeks to get my attention. He’s known for his playboy ways, getting what he wants then never hearing from him again. But, I thought he had changed. To me, he was different. Always saying the right things and being the perfect gentleman.
I bang my head against the wall while pulling at my hair, hating that I know we will have to tell his hateful mother. I don’t know why, but the woman just hates me. I assume she thinks I’m after Malcolm’s family’s money, but I’m not. I’ve learned at a young age you have to work for the things you want. The harder you work, the more pay off you get in the long run. Mom and dad taught me that and I agree whole-heartedly with it. I’ve experienced it myself. But I know what Malcolm’s mother will say. It’ll be a cold day in hell before that woman is nice to me even a little bit. I don’t see how Malcolm’s dad puts up with her. But then again, money loves money right, and that’s what their family is about. It’s ‘money this, money that’. I hardly ever go over to Malcolm’s anymore because his mother is always talking about how I don’t come from money. One day I will slap that bitch.
I wipe my eyes, deciding that I don’t need to dwell on this anymore. What’s done is done, and I can’t go back and change what happened. To be honest, I have no idea how I got pregnant. Well I know, but I thought Malcolm had used a condom that night. Now more than ever, I realize getting drunk and having sex was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made. I have no idea how I’m going to handle being pregnant and being a senior in high school. I just turned eighteen … how am I going to do this?
I get up off the cold tile floor and I pick up the test. I toss it in the trash and I recall how I got the damn thing. I begged my friend Casey to buy it for me. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. She told me I was acting crazy because no matter what, I still had to take the damn thing. I don’t know. I just couldn’t make myself go into the drug store and get it for myself. Which reminds me, I need to call her. That was the one condition for her buying it. She wanted to know right after what it said.
Casey is worse than a parent with her lectures and making people feel guilty. I really don’t know why I’m friends with her either. Funny how I’m questioning everything about my life now that I know everything is about to change. I won’t lie either. I’m fucking terrified. I look at myself in the mirror and my reflection makes me feel worse. My dirty blonde hair is everywhere. I need to brush it after all the pulling at it I’ve done.
Dark blue eyes rimmed with red stare back at me as I wipe away another tear as it slides down my cheek. I’ve cried so much today. My small build is from years of training as a ballet dancer and it compliments my round face. I think I’m just cute. Not sexy, no. Just … cute. Plain. Boring. And now, now I’m pregnant. I turn around when I can’t take looking at myself anymore. I can’t believe I let this happen. I always have a plan. There’s no room for variables or mistakes. I never leave anything to chance, but now I have no fucking clue how to plan this out. I don’t even know where to start, or how to take care of a baby. The thought of holding such a tiny life in my hands makes my stomach hurt.
I take in a deep breath trying not to let the feeling of dread overwhelm me. There’s so much to do, so much to figure out. I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I should tell Malcolm first. Then we’ll decide when to tell my parents and then his. There’s doctor’s appointments and to figure out what to actually do. Do I really want to be a mother? I’ll admit, the thought does bring some hope that things will be alright, but then again, I’m eighteen. I work part time at the ballet studio teaching small kids how to dance, but that won’t pay for much. I need my mom.
I open the door and walk into my bedroom. I sit down on my bed and I just look around my small room. It’s a typical teenager’s room I guess. Nothing spectacular about it. But it’s mine and even though this room used to be my safe haven and my escape from the world, I feel trapped. I feel as though the walls are closing in on me and I have to get out now. I jump up and walk out in the hallway. I shut my door and I lean back on it. I just need my mom. She’ll know what to do and she will tell me what to do. That’s what I need right now. For someone to tell me what the fuck I should do.