Free Twisted by Emma Chase

I was here
    all along, his eyes find mine immediately. They’re hard. Merciless.
    And his voice is as cold as the steel of an outdoor gate in a
    snowstorm.
    “Look who’s home.”
    Lots of women imagine how they would react if they caught
    their boyfriend or husband cheating. What they would say. how
    strong they’d be.
    Righteous and indignant.
    But when it’s for real? When it’s not just pretend predictions?
    Those emotions are peculiarly absent.
    I’m numb inside.
    Dead.
    And my voice is nothing more than a whispered stutter.
    “What . . . what are you doing?”
    Drew shrugs. “Just having a little fun. I figured, why should
    you be the only one who gets to?”
    I hear the words, but I don’t understand them. My eyes squint
    and my head tilts, like a bewildered dog.
    Drew steps away from the redhead and takes a swig from the
    bottle. he flinches as he swallows.
    “You look confused, Kate. I’ll explain. The first rule of lying is always get the alibi straight. See—right now, Matthew and Dolo-Twisted_1P.indd 70
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    res are on a plane to Vegas. Matthew’s been planning the trip for
    weeks—a surprise second honeymoon. So I knew you were full of
    shit this afternoon. I just needed to see if you’d actually go through with it. So I followed you. Gotta love the GPS.”
    Last year, a woman named Kasey Dunkin disappeared after
    a night out with friends in the city. It was all over the news. The police were able to trace her cell to an abandoned warehouse in
    Brooklyn, and even though she’d been stabbed multiple times, she
    survived. Drew and I had the same kind of program installed on
    our phones the next day.
    “You followed me?”
    he followed me to Bob’s office. he knows where I went. Does
    that mean . . .
    “Yep. I know where you were. I know everything. I fucking
    saw you.”
    he knows. . . . Drew knows I’m pregnant.
    And obviously he’s not pleased.
    My voice rises as I speak, gaining momentum. “You know?” I
    point at the woman who’s watching us like we’re her own personal
    soap opera. “And this is how you react?”
    Drew looks confused. “Do you frigging even know me at all?
    how the fuck did you think I’d react?”
    I’ve seen Drew annoyed before.
    Thoughtless.
    Frustrated.
    But this is different.
    This is . . . cruel.
    he asks me, “You’re not even gonna try and deny it? Make
    me think I’m delusional?” For a moment his face crumples. And
    he looks . . . anguished—like a torture victim about to break his
    silence. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong, Kate?”
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    he blinks and the anguished look is gone. And I’m pretty sure
    I just imagined it.
    Wishful thinking.
    I fold my arms across my chest. “I won’t discuss this with you
    in front of an audience.”
    Drew’s jaw locks stubbornly. “Are you going to end it?”
    My feet move back away from him, all on their own.
    And my hand drops protectively to my abdomen.
    “What?”
    he repeats himself, impatient with my shock. “I said—are you
    going to fucking end it?”
    Politically, Drew is pro-choice. Despite his Catholic upbring-
    ing, he respects and loves the women in his family far too much to let some old man on Capitol hill dictate what they can or can’t do with their bodies.
    But emotionally—morally—I’ve always thought he was pro-
    life. So the fact that he’s standing here telling me to abort a child, our child, is just . . . incomprehensible.
    “I haven’t . . . I haven’t had time to think about it.”
    he laughs bitterly. “Well, you better start thinking, because
    until your little indiscretion is out of the picture? I don’t even want to fucking look at you—let alone discuss anything .”
    his words hit me like a gust of wind on a cold day. The kind
    that leaves you breathless.
    Drew isn’t Joey Martino.
    he’s worse.
    Because he wants me to choose. An ultimatum. Like he did
    with