Chances (Mystic Nights #1)(29)
But she couldn’t blame her Mom for the recent pressure. She was an only child, and her parents, she was sure, wanted grandchildren. That brought a whole new wave of pain. Her abortion, all those years ago. She had immediately regretted it. It had been rash and stupid. But she had been so young, so terrified. Her fiancée was being terrorized by a serial killer. He had killed eight women already and he was threatening her. Andreas Marino, her former fiancé, had been a New York City police officer, a detective. He had tried to keep it a secret from her, had claimed he didn’t tell her about the threats so she wouldn’t be afraid. But instead, she had freaked out. She was barely twenty at the time. And instead of listening to him, she had blown up after she found several notes threatening her in his files one night. He’d left his briefcase on the desk, and when she had bumped into it, the contents spilled out and she panicked. She ended their engagement and fled to Nevada. Only a few weeks later she found herself pregnant. Telling Andreas at that point had been out of the question. He would have come and gotten her. Then she and the baby both would have been at risk. Plus, she wasn’t in the right state of mind for having a baby then. She’d been too raw, and terrified. The serial killer mutilated his victims, raped them, and then killed them.
She was twenty at that point, and without counsel from her parents who’d already moved back to Lantern Hill after she finished school at the dance academy she’d attended, she’d made a rash decision. And without even telling Andreas, she had gone to have the abortion. But the guilt ate at her.
Just days later, drunk, she had called Andreas and confessed everything. He had taken it remarkably well, though she heard the undercurrent of disappointment in his tone. She hated herself for a long time for that decision. He had every right to know, be a part of the decision. It had been his child too.
It had been a time of grieving and loss. But she grew up. Without the guidance of her parents, and Andreas to help make her way, she had been on her own for the first time in her life. She contemplated going back, but couldn’t. Then just months later, both of his parents were murdered by the same killer. His parents had been remarkable people. She grieved for them alone. She sent flowers to the funeral; it was all she could do. Knowing the man was still out there caused her to have many a nightmare in the next few years. Just recently, a decade later, he’d finally been caught. She heard it on the news just last month. And again it was Andreas who pursued and captured him. A decade, the man had hunted his parents murderer. She felt bad for all he had been through alone. She was glad he’d finally found someone strong enough to to stand by his side.
She spent six years in Vegas. Maturing. Perfecting her craft. But a dancer’s career in Vegas didn’t last forever. It was one of the reasons she had come back four years ago. It was time to let go of the pain, time to heal. It was one of the reasons she wanted to open a studio that would embrace her culture and heritage. She wanted to be that support for some other confused girl or boy. Help them through the tough times, but in a healthy way.
She saw Peter coming out of the hall and quickly got out of her car. He saw her right away and headed in her direction. Plastering a smile on her face, she held out her hand. He took it and pulled her in for a quick embrace. He was so touchy. She shook it off. “Sorry,” he started, “I know that didn’t go the way you wanted. But, it’s not a lost cause.” His voice sounded reassuring.
“I understand that Peter. And the clinic is something we need.”
“I’m glad you understand.” His smile was conciliatory.
“Believe me. I do. But I just wanted to talk to you for a moment. During my proposal I was so nervous I forgot to mention a few things, and I was hoping when you all met in committee, you could bring those things up.” She hoped he would hear her out.
“Of course, anything I can do. Shall we have dinner tonight?” he suggested.
Aliya shook her head. “I’m sorry. I am meeting with my parents tonight,” she lied knowing Jonathan wouldn’t understand. “I really just wanted to stress that my studio, although not a clinic, will benefit the community almost immediately. It would be a positive, healthy environment that would keep kids off the streets away from bad influences, like drugs, gangs, and sex.”
He nodded knowingly. “Yes, teenage pregnancy is quite an epidemic on the reserve.” He reached over to her, plucked a strand of her hair, and tugged on it playfully. Aliya moved her head back out of his reach. She hoped he would have respected that she was involved, but his invading her personal space told her he had no qualms about that. Jonathan was right about him. She cringed inwardly, but held her ground not wanting to insult the man.
Aliya also dismissed what seemed like a loaded comment. She didn’t know if he knew about her past, but let it slide. “Well, I hope I still have your support,” she remarked. She watched Peter’s eyes carefully. His glance shifted to her stomach, and it was then that she knew he did, in fact, know about what she had done all those years ago. She had confessed to her parents what she had done, and a few friends. She now knew the rumors had spread here.
“Oh, you have my support. And anytime you need someone to talk to, mull your ideas over, just give me a call.” His tone was suggestive. The man had no sense of decency. He just didn’t give up.
“Thank you Peter,” she replied smoothly taking a step back, and tried to keep the sarcasm and disappointment from her voice. “I know you will be fair. If I can’t get the space on the reserve, I guess I will just have to look elsewhere, open a studio nearby, off the reservation.” She began to turn, but Peter called after her.