The Trap Quotes

“No—uh—no, I’m good.” I hold up a sleeve of crackers. “You were right, Paige isn’t feeling well. I thought I’d get her something to eat.” Lame lame lame lame. She’s going to see right through this whole cracker ploy for what it is. Attempts to settle her pregnant daughter’s stomach. Mrs. Nichols lets out an audible sigh as her brow puckers in sympathy. “Poor thing. Those cramps have always been such a nightmare. For that reason alone, I wish she’d remained on the Pill.” For the second time in as many days, everything stops. My breathing. My heart. And I’m pretty sure the couple seconds it takes for her words to register and their meaning to sink in, time grinds to a halt too. Paige’s mother chokes back a laugh as she takes in my expression. “Oh dear, weren’t you supposed to know that I knew my daughter was on the Pill? Or is it me talking about a woman’s cycle that embarrassed you?” she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I”
― Beverley Kendall, The Trap

“pulls back and her hand flies to her mouth. I hear a muffled, “I think I’m going to be sick,” before she makes a dash for the door. She fumbles with the knob for a second before she wrenches it open. By the time I follow her into the hall, she’s in the bathroom heaving over the toilet. Crap! Bring on the morning sickness. I hurry to her side. “Hey, you okay?” She’s puking her guts out. Of course she’s not, dumbass. I’m officially as useful as training wheels on a Harley. But what are guys supposed to do in situations like this, except to stand there looking like we don’t know our ass from our elbow? After”
― Beverley Kendall, The Trap

“Chapter Four   Mitch   The following day, I arrive at Paige’s house shortly before eleven in the morning. When Mrs. Nichols answers the door and ushers me in, she’s all big smiles and warm greetings. It’s obvious she still doesn’t know I knocked up her only daughter. As”
― Beverley Kendall, The Trap

“You sure the kid is yours?” Josh might as well of punched me in the face. Before I can get to him and tear his head off, he’s on his feet, his hands so high this time, he’s waving a white flag. “I’m just asking,” he says defensively. “I mean you’re up in New York most of the time. You don’t know what she’s doing when you’re not here.” If he knew how close I am to beating the shit out of him, his ass would be halfway to his car by now. I stand and make a move toward him but the look on his face stops me cold. Something in his eyes tells me he’s not simply trying to get a rise out of me. He knows something. I pull back and look him dead in the eyes. “Is there something you want to tell me, Josh?”
― Beverley Kendall, The Trap