Derek Bloom || {I'd Hate To Watch You Cry} || Pete Wentz 1.

Chapter 14

"This is cute!" Sam marvelled, looking at the black and white striped jumper on the rack.

I walked over to it and read the price tag. I shoved it in her face. “I'm not paying $85 for a jumper that the poor kid's gonna take a dump in."

"That's what the monogrammed diapers are for."

I hip checked her as she laughed and walked over to the cashier. I handed her the miniature pair of Converse I'd found and she rung them up. I handed her my credit card and Sam approached me.

"Yeah, but you'll cough up $45 for shoes that it'll outgrow in a month."

I grinned cheekily and she rolled her eyes. "I'll wait outside." She drug her feet to a bench outside as the young girl handed me the bag and my receipt.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she smiled. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

"Are we done?" Sam asked.

I smiled. "Aren't you the one who wanted to go shopping?"

"Yes, but my feetsies hurt and my credit card's probably maxed out anyways."

"At least now I know not to leave you alone in Hot Topic."

"Five more minutes and I would've cleaned out the store."

We laughed as we headed back to the car. I glanced at my watch.

"Shit. We gotta hurry."

I threw my bags into the trunk and Sam leaned on the car. "What's the rush, mama bear?"

"I promised Pete I'd be home by 6, and I still have to cook."

"That jackass still makes you slave away in the kitchen?"

"I'm pregnant, not handicapped."

"Same thing."

I rolled my eyes and started the car, backing out of the parking spot. I had less than ten minutes to get home before Pete would start to hyperventilate. I looked at the traffic on the highway.

Expressway, definitely.

Pete's POV

"Stupid lettuce." I stabbed at the head of lettuce as it sat there, browning. Sadly, my specialities were PB & J sandwiches and pancakes. Salad, not so much. I ripped at the leaves and tossed them in a bowl, washing them with cold water.

I peered over at the clock.

6:31 p.m.

I shifted nervously. Evie had promised she'd be home by 6. She never broke her promises. And if she'd gotten caught up, she would've called, I knew that much. I was worried. I contemplated calling her when the phone rang. I rushed over to it and put the receiver to my ear.

"Evie?"

"No, no. This is Lieutenant Raymer."

I swallowed. "Lieutenant Raymer?"

"Yes. Are you… Peter Wentz?"

"Yes. I am."

"Mr. Wentz, I'm sorry to inform you that Evelyn Good has been in a car crash."

"Evie…" I sobbed.

"Mr. Wentz. I understand this is devastating news, but she is alright. She's in critical condition, along with another young passenger, but she is alive."

I took a deep breath. "That passenger… that's Samantha-Lin LaCoste."

"Are you sure about that?"

I closed my eyes. "A hundred percent."

There was a short pause before he responded.

"Mr. Wentz. I find it only fair to warn you that the paparazzi is here."

"WELL TELL THEM TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!"

Still, he remained calm.

"I can't do that. I can only bar them off so far."

"If they get a single picture of her…"

"We've banned photography on the premises. Only certified news crews are allowed."

I wiped the tears on my cheeks. "Where are you taking them?"

"Ridgeview Hospital."

"I'm coming."

"With all due respect, Mr. Wentz. You'll be bombarded. I highly doubt that's what you want right now."

"My whole world is being wheeled off to the ICU and you think I'm going to stay put because of some fucking shutterbugs? You must be joking."

"I'm quite serious."

"I don't care. I'm coming."

He sighed, realizing nothing was going to stop me. "We can get you in through the back so you don't worry about the photographers."

"Thank you," I murmured, hanging up.

I stared at the empty apartment, my heart falling to pieces. It was like I was being punished for loving her. I took a deep breath and grabbed my keys and phone.

First thing was first. I had to call Matt.

No more lies.

No more hiding.

He needed to know the truth.