The Risks

March: Chapter 49

A/N: I have looked at this chapter for nearly three weeks and I'm sick of it. Here, take it! P.s. Sorry for the wait. And, as always, thanks for being here.

"Well," Parker said, arms crossed tightly over his chest, "can't have a trip where something doesn't go wrong, right?"

I grumbled unhappily. We'd been so close to being home -only about an hour out- before the rear driver's tire blew out on us. Oh well. Nothing left but to take care of it, and I wasn't going to waste time; the sooner we got this done, the sooner we could get home. I let out a heavy sigh and moved to the back of the car.

"Pop the trunk, will you?"

He did, and I began pulling out the supplies we'd need. Jack. Wrench. I'd leave the spare tire for Parker to grab.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Changing the tire," I answered, setting the wrench on the asphalt and adjusting my grip on the jack. "What's it look like?"

I crouched down, but he took the jack from my hands. I gaped up at him indignantly.

"You are not changing the tire. I am changing the tire."

"What? You think I can't do it?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes, a tiny grin on his face as he took my place and picked the wrench up from the ground. "That has nothing to do with it and you know it."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You don't need to be changing a tire right now," he answered incredulously.

"Fine," I huffed, taking a couple steps away and crossed my arms. "I don't like being treated like a child."

"You're not. You're being treated like you're pregnant. Which you are, in case you've forgotten."

Oh. Okay. Apparently we were talking about this like it was completely normal. It kind of took me by surprise for a moment -the fact that he'd said it so casually. Like the whole thing wasn't riding on the slim chance that we could find a man who hated us and convince him to make a cure out of -what? The goodness of his heart?

"I haven't forgotten," I shot back sulkily. "I just don't want to be treated differently."

He glanced up at me from his spot beside the tire, squinting against the sunlight. "Well, you're just going to have to get over it," he chuckled. "I don't want you over exerting yourself. It's not good for the baby."

I frowned, trying to ignore the first thought that popped into my head. If I lost the baby naturally, it would take away all our immediate problems. Or at least take the persistent timer of this bomb out of the equation. But I immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. What was wrong with me?

I pressed my fingers against my tummy. I'm sorry.

"How about I loosen these lug nuts, then once I get the wheel off the ground, you take them off?" he offered, probably noticing my sobered mood and trying to make me feel better without completely caving. No way he was going to let me do this myself, and now that I'd had time to think about it, I couldn't say I disagreed with him.

"Okay."

When he'd had them loosened, and used the jack to lift the car, I knelt down and began to unscrew the lug nuts.

"Where'd you learn to change a tire?" he asked conversationally as he pulled the spare tire from the trunk.

"Taught myself. Got a flat one day when I was driving Oakley home from school."