Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(109)
“You did what?” Keira had never wanted to hit her mother more than she did then. What the hell had she done while Keira lay unconscious in the hospital? It was clear that she was rerouting Keira’s life, making attempts to change the course of how it would go. It didn’t surprise her in the least, but to reach out to Kona’s mother? Especially when their family was dealing with Luka’s loss?
“Steven saw her yesterday morning. She’d come to claim the body and arrange the burial.” Her mother waved her hand as though Luka’s death was a footnote to the point of her story. “I introduced myself and explained to her about your tests. We both agreed that terminating this pregnancy would be in both your and Kona’s best interest.”
“You both agreed?”
“Of course. You are too young to be a mother and that poor woman is dealing with far too much to be saddled with the role of grandmother. Trust me, you’ll thank me one day.”
Keira felt like a puppet. Her mother pulled the strings, twisted her this way and that until she danced, until she moved toward a long stage, one that her mother had set with checkpoints of expectations. She wanted to clip those strings. She wanted to clip them and wrap them around her mother’s neck.
She knew the open mouth, then the closed, hooded look she gave her mother was full of anger, but Keira didn’t care. Kona’s mother, her own, were thinking about this child’s impact on their lives; they wanted to snatch the decision, the responsibility from both of them and Keira wouldn’t have it. “Are you out of your f*cking mind?”
“Watch your mouth, Keira.”
The laughter, when it came, moved up her belly. It was loud, rude and highly unamused and it hurt with the dull ache that tasted like bitterness. “You tell me you’ve decided that you want me to kill my baby and all you can think to say is ‘watch your mouth’?”
That laughter turned cold, tipped into the smart burn of tears that Keira let fall over her face. She took to holding herself around her middle, trying to comfort the small person growing inside her, the one she hoped would be a salve over the anguish of the past week. She wanted Kona. She needed his arms, his strength, his protection from the world, from her mother’s cruelty, that she’d come to depend on so desperately. Brushing off her mother’s useless touches, Keira rubbed her face dry with the back of her hand. “Where’s Kona?”
“You don’t need to worry about him right now. He’s got enough trouble.”
Keira knew her mother meant to disregard her question. She didn’t want Keira asking about Kona or caring what happened to him and when the woman moved away from her, sitting back in her chair as though she wouldn’t give Keira any news on what happened to her boyfriend, she reached out and grabbed her mother’s wrist, jerking her forward. “Where is he?”
Keira was past caring about the shock on her mother’s face or the way the threatening scowl, the flared nostrils and thin set of her mouth warned that she’d soon lash out, strike. “Orleans Parish prison,” her mother finally said, extracting her wrist from Keira’s tight hold. “He’s been arrested for accessory to murder. He was there when those boys were killed and won’t be getting out anytime soon.” The tears came so hard now that Keira could feel a knot working in the back of her throat and still her mother continued, voice impassive, uncaring. “His mother agreed that telling Kona anything about the baby would be a bad idea right now. He’s just lost his twin brother because of his own irresponsibility and by the time he’s out, the procedure will be over. No need to rub salt in wounds.”
The woman smiled, a pleased, contented expression that told Keira this baby, the loss and the irrevocably broken lives could be pushed under the rug, brushed aside as though none of it really mattered. Taking a breath, steeling herself for the argument she knew would come, Keira lifted the sheet from her lap and dried her face. Then, mimicking her mother’s unaffected tone, she smiled. “There isn’t going to be any procedure.”
“What?”
“I’m not having an abortion. How in God’s name did you ever get my consent?” She narrowed her eyes at her mother, knowing instantly that there had been more under-the-rug brushing. “You waited until I was out of it, didn’t you? You had Steven hush things over and then what? Told Dr. Mitchell that I’d consent? My God, mother, how low would you go to get your way?”
“I’d do whatever it takes, Keira. I’d do anything to make sure you don’t throw your life away like I did.” Keira’s mother sounded weak, pathetic, but behind the low whisper of her words lay the ever-present threat, the grasp of reason, purpose that only made sense to her mother. “Why do you think I’m so hard on you? I push you because I want you to make smart choices.”
The sad thing was, the woman honestly believed that. Keira’s body hurt. Her tears had clogged up her sinuses, had her breathing through her mouth and she wanted her mother to leave. She wanted her to know that the only thing that mattered to her now was this child, its safety and the hope she believed it would bring to their lives.
“No, Mother, you push me so I do what you want me to do. And when I don’t, when I show the smallest bit of free will, you smack me around until I fall in line.”
Her mother shook her head, frown heavy. “If I’ve been harsh, it’s because I want you to realize your potential. I want you to use your limited attributes.”