Page 36 of Wicked Brutal

“I knew you liked her. I did not know you were sleeping with her.”

“Can we please never say that sentence again as long as we both live?”

“Probably not,” he says, mouth twitching. “You’re having a baby. The evidence is fairly compelling.”

I take Ally’s hand. “There's also… Fuck. Tremblay expects her to be a virgin.”

“What?” Mom says.

Ally’s cheeks go pink, and I hate it — hate that she’s the one whose face does that, like she’s the one who ought to be embarrassed by any inch of this. “Roman told me,” she says quietly. “It’s part of the arrangement. He expects me to be... pure.”

Mom stands. Just stands. Walks three steps toward the sink, turns around. “No.”

Dad’s jaw is locked.

“Walter,” Mom says.

“I heard her.”

“She is eighteen years old.”

“I know.”

“And he is how old?”

“Fifty-four,” I say.

“Oh, absolutely the fuck not.” I blink — Mom doesn’t swear much.

Dad looks like he’s doing arithmetic on how to make a man disappear. “I did not know that was part of it,” he says.

“Neither did I,” Mom snaps. “Does Arthur?”

“Not yet.”

“Call him.” Mom starts pacing. “Call Saoirse. Call every mother we know.” There she is. Then she catches the look on Ally’s face and stops, comes straight back, crouches in front of her. “Not because of you. None of this — none of this anger is yours. You hear me?”

Ally nods, eyes filling. “Okay.”

“None of it.” Mom takes both her hands. “You being with Ryan is not something you did wrong. Loving him is not something you did wrong. Having sex with the boy you love is not something you did wrong—“

“Mom!”

Ally laughs wetly, and Mom ignores me completely. “And this baby is certainly not something you did wrong.”

Dad comes over and sits on Ally’s other side. “I didn’t know Tremblay’s expectations either,” he says, and his voice is calm — too calm, the calm that means somebody’s going to have a very bad year. “And when the others hear it, they’re going to be angry, Ally.”

Ally looks between them. “At me?”

Dad’s expression breaks, just a fraction. “No, kiddo.” He reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. “Never at you.”

“On your behalf,” Mom says. Ally looks down at her stomach, and Mom’s hand covers hers. “Point blank, this baby is loved,” Mom says.

“And wanted,” Dad adds.

“Very wanted,” Mom says.

I look at her. “You’ve known for six minutes.”