Vengeance (Burning Beliefs #2)

Chapter Eleven *edited*

GRACIE'S POV

I have one corner of the fluffy blankets balled into my fists and tucked under my chin. Dad managed to dig up a few more, just for my comfort, because he could tell I'd been crying. He probably thought it was about Serena.

Of course, I haven't told him yet. How do you tell someone? How do you tell your father? Honestly, I'm just waiting until he notices it himself. I know that you can't exactly hide being pregnant.

I mean, that conversation is going to go down in history as the awkwardest words ever strung together.

Hey, Gracie Belle, you look fat today.

Oh thanks, Dad, but I'm just pregnant.

Oh, okay. Thank you for the update. Who's the father?

Haha, see you're going to laugh really hard at this... I don't know.

What do you mean you don't know?

It's nothing bad, I just slept with two different guys within a few nights of each other.

Ugh. I bury my head in my hands. Even the silky warmth of these fabulous blankets aren't going to help me with this one. No one can, for once, and forever, I am on my own for this.

"Quit moving," Dean yells down at me. "It's like I'm sleeping next to a garbage truck."

I scoff. "Well, that's a nice thing to say."

"It's true."

"Shut up."

"You know I never will."

"That much is obvious."

"Jesus, you are just drowning in sarcasm tonight. Or today. I don't know what time it is."

"12:13," I respond.

"Awesome."

"Whatever."

It's silent for a few moments. There's the air conditioning cottoning the space, and the occasional low hum from the computer room.

"I thought Dad wasn't working tonight," I comment.

Dean sighs. He's clearly not going to get any sleep as long as I'm awake.

"He's not," he says.

"Then why are the computers still running?"

"You don't shut down things like that."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because they take a couple centuries to turn back on. Are we done talking? I'm getting tired of these late-night lectures. It's like dealing with a little kid."

"It's not like there's another time for us to talk."

"Maybe I don't want to talk."

"Why not?"

"Because you're really annoying."

"Thanks, I try."

"Obviously."

"Hey, Dean," I say cautiously. "Do you like secrets?"

"Not really, no."

"Why?"

"Well, you try and hide them, because they're usually really stupid or really dangerous, or both. And then somebody finds out. And then they're mad, and you're mad, and the random third guy is mad too, and before you know it, everyone is mad at each other"

"Okay."

"Why'd you ask?" he grumbles.

"It's nothing."