He could never be done with her.

John went off. "My best friend is dead. He fucking died, Alyssa! You were not supposed to run and fuck Ben! You were supposed to be there for me! In my fucking arms. Jesus Christ! Jace wrapped his truck around a fucking tree. Have a modicum of sympathy for me, will ya? I lost my best friend," his voice shook, his eyes starting to water. "That night was the worst night of my life. The weeks following were dark and full of misery. I was suffering inside. I made a few mistakes and then one night everything was put into perspective for me. I needed to make a change, so I did."

"I know . . ." she whispered. "I was with you when it happened, remember?" He remembered everything. Some days it was what got him through to the next.

"Yeah, I do, so you should understand what I'm dealing with. But fuck. You run to Ben?" he spat.

Alyssa fought back the tears. "It wasn't planned . . . I had no choice."

"Nothing in life is planned and we always have a choice, Alyssa. We make our choices. No one can hold us responsible for them but ourselves."

"You're right."

"I know I'm fucking right. I can't believe this shit."

Rubbing her belly, she softly said, "For what it's worth, I'm ninety-nine percent sure this baby is yours."

John huffed, shaking his head. "Ninety-nine percent . . . So obviously I can't come to your house. Can you come over tonight and we'll talk? Wait. Why aren't you living at home anymore?"

Alyssa nervously bit her lip. "That's a long story . . ." There was no way she could leave once Ben got home from work. Especially if it was to see John. In fact, she needed to start dinner. Ben liked his dinner hot and ready on a plate when he got home. And if wasn't ready . . . well she didn't want to even go there.

Glancing down at her watch, her heart sped up. She had an hour left. Alyssa needed to get a move on.

"I can't tonight," she said with a shaky voice. "Maybe tomorrow I can get away to see you?" Yes, tomorrow would be better for her while Ben was at work.

John's eyes narrowed at her sudden change in tone. "Fair enough. Can't imagine Ben would like if you came over to see your ex ... whatever anyway. I'll call you tomorrow-"

"No!" she interrupted John, her heart hammering now. If John called while Ben was still home it wouldn't be good for her. Then she definitely would not be able to leave.

Swallowing, she said, "I'll call you when I get up . . . You still have the same phone number?"

John nodded suspiciously. "What's going on Alyssa? Everything okay?"

"Yup. Fine," she replied quickly. "I just need to start dinner."

John sighed. "Come on, I'll walk you in."

"No! No . . . it's okay. Bye, Johnny." Alyssa turned around, waving goodbye as she did. She looked so sad that it killed him to see her like that. The bright blue eyes that once held so much spark was gone and replaced by a dull, sullen blue. That wasn't the Alyssa he knew.

Alyssa walked up the driveway. Her oversized white shirt looked like one of his undershirts . . . she was probably wearing Ben's come to think of it. His gaze traveled the length of her. He'd never guess from behind that she was pregnant. She looked so small and frail actually. The shirt nearly covered her blue shorts. Her thin, pale legs . . .

What. The. Fuck. Was that big black and blue welt doing across the back of her left thigh?

Pushing open the front door to his parent's home, it slammed into the wall, leaving a hole from the door knob.

"Whoa!" his father said coming around the corner. "What's going on, John?"

John was huffing hard, his chest tight with each breath of air. He ran home as fast as he could, not stopping to take a break. He saw red. And Ben's face. His fists were balled up, ready to strike. All the control he learned over those three months went out the window. Everything made sense now. Now he knew why Alyssa didn't want him to call, why he couldn't walk her up to the door, and why she looked so skittish.

"Boys," he father said to the twins, "Upstairs, now."

Motherfucking Ben.

But somewhere deep down he prayed it wasn't true. Prayed that Ben wasn't using his fists on her. Because so help him God, he would kill him. Consequences be dammed. He would put Ben six feet under if it were true.

"John, what's troubling you?"

"Alyssa," he said through gritted teeth. "I saw Alyssa. She's pregnant and had a huge black and blue bruise across the back of her leg."

"And?"

"And?" he retorted. "And? And there's a strong chance that's my baby she's carrying. And there's also a chance that Ben put that bruise on her. She was different . . . something was off. I can feel it."

"Whoa. Slow it down, son. What makes you think Ben is hitting her? You can't just throw heavy words around like that."

"I don't know . . ." he began pacing. "She was fine, calm, even happy to see me, then in the blink of an eye she changed and got all nervous. She had to leave. It was like a different person all of a sudden."

"So that makes you think Ben is hitting her?"

"How does one get a huge black and blue across the back of their thigh, dad?! The door hit her back there? It only makes sense!" he roared.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Talk to her, see what you can find out. Did you see any other marks on her?"

John thought for a moment and tried to remember if he saw marks on her arms, but he wasn't sure. "I'm having her come over tomorrow. When I told her I would stop by, she freaked. Jesus," he said grabbing his head, "if he's hitting her while she's pregnant, dad . . ."

"Wait . . . you said she's pregnant?"

"Yes."

"And there's a possibility it's yours?"

John nodded.

Clark, stared at him. His weathered eyes held a small glimmer of hope hearing about Alyssa's unborn baby, but it quickly fled.

"Alright son, let's try and calm down. I know you're worked up right now, but let's think about who's at the center of all of this. Alyssa. You can't be jumping down her throat tomorrow or stressin' her out. I know you're upset and angry, but carrying a baby takes a lot from a woman's body. Their emotions are all outta whack. Lord knows I watched your mother go through it enough. Be easy on her tomorrow."

Clark was right, John needed to simmer down. But how could he? If Alyssa was being physically abused, he wouldn't be able to function knowing she was in Ben's house under his hand.

"First things first," Clark said, handing John a sandwich, "Let's not tell your mother about this just yet. Talk to Alyssa first then we'll decide from there."

Nodding, he bit into his sandwich. His dad was right once again. Mom didn't need the extra stress. She was doing well with her new medication that he didn't want to tire her out.

"Next," Clark pointed at John. "If Alyssa is pregnant with your child, we will be more than happy to help her out while you're training. Got it? We'll treat her like our own and take care of her until your placement is sorted out."

John swallowed. He only hoped he could be half the man his father is one day.

"Thanks, dad. I really appreciate that. So, ah, how long do I have to wait to see if it is my kid?"

John was absolutely clueless on anything that had to do with pregnancy, or babies. Google was about to become his best friend.

Best friend . . .

Jace. In this moment he wished Jace was here to talk about this with. He needed his friend right about now.

"I know a paternity test can be done once the baby is born, but that's court ordered most of the time, I think? To tell you the truth son, times have changed since your mother and I became parents. We'll have to get on the internet to see if there are any tests that can be done sooner. I'm a little rusty on this stuff."

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he crumpled it and dropped it on his plate. John asked, "What am I supposed to do? I'm twenty years old." Shaking his head, he was so confused.

Clark reached across the table and rested his hand on John's shoulder. His father's touch comforted him. "Don't worry, son, we'll get you through this. Together. I promise."

"Do you think, ah, tomorrow, maybe, you could have mom and my brothers out of the house so I can talk to Alyssa in private? I want her to be comfortable with me."

"No problem. I'll take her out to lunch with the boys."

Damn. His father was a Saint. No one compared to him.

"Thanks, dad. I really appreciate it."

Clark smiled. "I know you do, son."

John stood and grabbed both plates and brought them to the sink. He rinsed each one and then put them in the drying rack. He hadn't craved a beer in months and suddenly he wanted one. Instead, he was going to taking a steaming hot shower to calm his nerves and call Ford.

"You know it was pretty fucked up that you up and left without sayin' a word," Ford stated without sympathy. "No one had any idea what happened to you." He offered John a beer, but he declined.

"I know it was, but at the time I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I knew if I didn't leave that I'd be doing the same damn thing night after night and hurting the people around me. I mean, I tried to swing on you, one of my best friends." John's face fell and he turned silent.

He only had one best friend now. Swallowing the emotion, John was ashamed. He couldn't believe he tried to hit Ford.

"That was fucked up of me, and I apologize for trying to hit you."

Ford shrugged it off. "I wasn't the one who got roughed up in the end," he grinned and John returned the smile. Ford had nailed him to the floor that afternoon-and with good reason.

"Touche."

John and Ford were catching up after he'd been gone for the last four months at Ford's house. Normally when they came out here, it was the three of them riding their ATV's or just hanging around shooting the shit. However, today, they were sitting in Ford's guest house that had been turned into a full gaming sports room many years ago.

"So, you're a Marine now? Active?"

John bobbed his head. "Just graduated from boot camp. Crazy, huh? I can't believe it myself."

"It's pretty fucking crazy actually. I bet your pops is happy about it." John nodded with a big smile. Clark was overjoyed. "I assume you're done with college then? That's it?"

"I have school in the Marines, but it's to train for my job. Maybe one day I'll go back to college, but for now we'll see where the road takes me."

Ford took a sip of his Coke. "So was boot camp as bad as they say? Man, I feel like I'm interviewing you it's been so long. Next time drop a line so we don't have to go through this."

A laugh escaped his throat. "A lot of guys couldn't hang and left. I ain't gonna lie, that shit was hard as hell. I was sore in places I didn't even know I could be. It tested me at every corner and some days I hated it, wondering what the fuck I signed up for, but I refused to give up. I'm no quitter. Once I'm in, that's it."

Ford chuckled. "Yeah, that doesn't sound like you. You're hard headed as fuck."

"In hindsight, joining the Marines after Jace passed probably wasn't the best move for me mentally. I was shattered, we all were, but then I think I needed that kind of mental distraction to help with Jace's death."

He nodded to John's head. "Where's all that pretty boy hair of yours?"

John ran a hand over his head and smiled. "Had to shave it. This is much easier to take care of anyway. Enough about me, what's going on with you?"

Ford shrugged. "Nothing. Same old . . . School and working on my family's farm. I'm going to leave when the semester is over and head to Tennessee. We have a farm up there that needs tending to pretty badly."

"No way. So in the new year?"

"I mean, it's not the same here . . . you know?" Ford looked around. "You're gone now too, not that I need you to hold my hand or shit," he laughed. "But it's just strange. My folks need the help, so why the hell not? They have tons of acres up there. Sounds like my kind of thing."

John's throat tightened. "Yeah." John didn't know that by him leaving would affect Ford as it had.

"Maybe I'll pick up some pretty cowgirl who likes to get down and dirty in a barn. And then at the end of the day she'll cook me a fat burger and bring me an ice cold beer," he joked.

John shook his head, laughing. "Why don't you cook her dinner?"

"Can I eat it off of her?"

"You're going to eat a greasy burger off of her?"

Ford chuckled. "Maybe not. Maybe I'll have her for desert."

"Oh, Jesus. So . . ." he eased into the topic. "I'm sure you heard about Alyssa."

"I've been waiting for you to bring that up. What the fuck is going on with that shit?" John shook his head in disbelief and told Ford everything Alyssa had told him.

Ford whistled. "Sure you don't want a beer?"

"I'm good." He was trying not to drink. If anything he'd force himself to go for another run.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know . . . I just don't know. She's in a tough place right now. I want to be there for her and help, but how can I when she's with that scum?"

"Ben Jones," Ford spat. "Of all guys? I've never liked him."

"I've been asking myself the same question, man. Something is going on and I'm determined to find out."

"You know, come to think of it, I've barely seen her since you left . . ." Ford trailed off.

"Like I said, something isn't right. I can feel it in my gut."

Alyssa was a bundle of nerves when she went to bed the night before. She thought if she went to sleep early, that it would help ease the tension in her shoulders and the emotions running through her.

Instead it only backfired on her.