Reckless Reunion (The Reckless Rockstar Series)

by Samantha Christy

  This cannot be happening.

  I run to the bathroom and throw up again. After rinsing my mouth, I open the cabinet and take out the pregnancy test I bought Friday.

  Yesterday morning, I threw up twice—almost the same time as today. Morning sickness.

  I slump down on the floor next to the tub and cry. I can’t put it off any longer. I pull myself up on the toilet and pee on the stick. I don’t know why I’m bothering. I know what the result will be.

  Three minutes later, my worst fear comes true.

  ~ ~ ~

  The knocks on my door become louder and more persistent. I wish whoever it is would go away.

  “Reece, I know you’re in there. Your car’s out front.”

  My head sinks into the pillow. The last thing I need is to see Rob right now. I stay in bed, not making any noise. Maybe he’ll give up and think I went out for a walk or something.

  It’s quiet, and I relax. Bullet dodged.

  But then I hear a key in the lock and my door opens. What the hell? I grab my baseball bat and peek into my tiny living room.

  “Jesus, Reece,” Rob says. “Are you okay?”

  I run to the bathroom and throw up.

  He stands outside the door. “Are you sick? Don’t be mad. Garrett asked me to check on you. When you didn’t answer the door, I had the manager let me in.”

  I flush the toilet, brush my teeth, and splash water on my face, then I open the door.

  His eyes travel the full length of my body, from my bare feet to my yoga pants and up across an old, ripped T-shirt, past my face, devoid of all makeup, to the messy bun on top of my head. “Do you have the flu or something?”

  I push past him and lie down on the bed. “Can you just leave me alone?”

  “I promised Garrett I’d look out for you.”

  I laugh bitterly. “How convenient for him. He gets to follow his dream while his big brother keeps tabs on me.”

  “You haven’t been yourself for weeks. Are you going to break up with him?”

  “He’s going to break up with me.”

  “Oh, shit, did you cheat on him? Is that why you’re sick? You’re guilt vomiting?”

  “I wish.”

  “You wish you had cheated on him? What am I missing?”

  “Rob, I need to be alone. I have stuff to deal with.”

  “That’s why he sent me here. He wants me to help you with whatever is going on.”

  “You want to help?” I ask bitterly.

  “I do.”

  I march back to the bathroom, pick up the pee stick, and throw it at him. “Do you want to help me raise Garrett’s baby? Because he sure as hell won’t want to.”

  He looks astonished. He picks up the pregnancy test and reads the result. “Oh shit.”

  This is all so ludicrous. I laugh, then I cry, and it is nowhere as pretty as it is on TV.

  He hugs me. “It’s going to be okay.”

  When I finally catch my breath, I say, “Nothing about this is okay. I don’t want a baby. Garrett doesn’t want a baby. This will ruin everything.”

  “It doesn’t have to,” he says. “Sometimes surprises turn out to be blessings in disguise.”

  I push him away. “There is no blessing here. More like a curse. I’m eighteen. My boyfriend is halfway across the world, which doesn’t even matter, because if he were sitting here right now, nothing would change. Even if I decided I wanted this, he wouldn’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You should have seen him three months ago when my period was late. He actually kept track of my periods, can you believe that? I was literally less than a day late, and he freaked. He told me from day one that kids are not a part of his plan. He’d leave me.”

  “He won’t leave you. You have to give him a chance.”

  “He’s not going to find out about this. Rob—you can’t tell him.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying this never happened. He doesn’t have to know. He’s in Australia. I can have an abortion, and everything will be fine. He’ll come back four months from now and be none the wiser.”

  “You don’t want to tell him?”

  “My body, my choice.”

  “He deserves to know.”

  “It will be better this way. He’d hate me if he knew I got pregnant. He might even leave me. At the very least, he won’t touch me when he comes home because he’ll be afraid of it happening again. I love him. I couldn’t bear to be with him and have him wonder if and when.”

  “You want me to lie for you? To my brother?”

  “You won’t have to lie. If he doesn’t know about it, it will never come up.”

  “It’s a lie by omission, Reece.”

  “Would you quit being a lawyer for two minutes and help me? I didn’t have to tell you, you know.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because we’re friends.”

  “But he’s family.”

  “I know. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I don’t have anybody. The girls at the diner are kind of my friends, but we’re not close enough for me to share this kind of thing.” I can’t stop crying. “Garrett was my person, and he’s gone, and this is the one thing I can’t talk to him about. P-please don’t t-tell him. I don’t know what I’d do if he left me.”

  He walks me to the bed and sits me down before he paces my bedroom. “You’re putting me in one hell of a spot.”

  “I’m so sorry. If there was any other way …”

  He sits next to me and runs his hands through his hair. “Can you afford an abortion?”

  “I have a little money saved up.”

  “When will you do it?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Okay. Let me know when, and I’ll take you.”

  My eyes snap to his. “You’ll take me?”

  “You said you don’t have anyone. Nobody should have to go through this kind of thing alone.”

  I reach out and try to take his hand. “Thank you.”

  He moves his hand away. “I’m not saying I agree with what you’re doing, but I’m here to give you support if you need it.”

  “I understand.”

  He blows out a deep breath and finally takes my hand. “How did you get yourself in this position?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that my whole life.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Garrett

  “I asked you a question, Reece. Did you have a goddamn abortion?”

  The blood drains from her face. She sits on the bed. “I wanted to tell you so many times. The night you asked about the scar, I wanted to tell you everything then. Then again after you got home. I almost told you earlier today. I just couldn’t find the words.”

  I glance at her stomach, cringing at the scar I know is under her clothes. “You let them cut it out of you?”

  “No. It was a simple procedure, but there was a complication.”

  “A simple procedure? You think killing our baby was simple? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Tears run down her face, but I am completely without empathy. “I was eighteen, Garrett. And you made it clear time after time that you never wanted kids.”

  “So you decided you wouldn’t even give me the choice?”

  “You’d already made your choice. Don’t you remember how mad you got when I was only one day late?”

  “You should have fucking told me.” I gaze out the window, seeing a few young kids pass on the street below. “I could have had a five-year-old kid.” Rage flows through me. “You denied me that.”

  “You didn’t want one!” she yells.

  “Well, I want one now!”

  “You can’t blame me for doing what I did because suddenly you love Brad’s baby. You didn’t want one then. You would have made me get rid of it. I thought I was doing us both a favor.”

  “You call killing our kid doing us a favor?”

  I leave and go into the living room, un
able to look at her.

  “You have to let me explain,” she says, following me. “It was the right thing to do back then. I was barely out of foster care. I was scared, and the only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted you. I thought if you found out about the baby, you wouldn’t want me.”

  “That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. You broke up with me.”

  “Because I hated myself.”

  “For getting pregnant?”

  “For aborting our baby.” She strides over and holds out her wrist. “Look closely.”

  I examine the tattoo. There is a scar underneath it. My eyes snap to hers. “You tried to kill yourself?”

  She collapses on the couch, sobbing. “Rob found me.”

  “So you fucking married him?”

  “It wasn’t as simple as that. When I got the abortion, I did it for us. We were too young. We wanted careers. Kids didn’t fit into our plan. I thought it would be easy, but afterward, I felt terrible. There was other stuff, but I thought I made the wrong choice. I thought maybe I could have had the baby and given it up for adoption. After a while I started resenting you.”

  “Why the hell would you resent me? I didn’t even know about it.”

  “I resented you for being gone. For not wanting kids. For not wanting me.”

  “I wanted you, Reece.”

  She shakes her head. “I didn’t see it that way. And after …” She glances at her wrist. “The resentment turned to hate. I hated you. Rob was there for me. He held my hand during the procedure, until he couldn’t anymore. He sat by my hospital bed after I sliced my wrist. I hated myself. I hated the world. But he kept telling me everything would be okay.”

  “So you up and married him? You shut me out, killed my baby, and married my goddamn brother.”

  Black streaks of mascara line her cheeks as more tears fall. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was broken and I freaked. I thought you’d find out my secret and hate me. He took care of me. Paid my rent when I couldn’t work. He bought me a puppy and stayed with me when I was sad. He was offering everything I thought I needed. He was there when you weren’t. Things just happened.”

  “You’re saying this is all my fault because I went to Australia?”

  “Of course not. I know that now. But I was young and naïve. Who else did I have to blame but you?”

  I get off the couch and head for the door. “I can’t even look at you.”

  “Garrett, stop. We can’t leave things like this. I leave tomorrow. Stay. We can talk things out. I know you’re mad, but you can choose to stay anyway.”

  I turn. “Oh, now you’re giving me a choice? You took away my right to have a say. I had a goddamn part in creating a baby. It wasn’t just your decision to make. You were so selfish that you took my voice away.”

  “I know,” she cries. “I’m sorry. Please stay. We can work this out.”

  “You’ve lied to me one too many times. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’ve betrayed me in the worst ways imaginable. How can I sit here with you when you killed my baby without my consent?” I open the door. “Go on your tour. Get rich and famous. Do whatever the fuck you want but don’t ever contact me again.”

  Her sobs echo behind me as I walk down the hall. After I get on the elevator, the door shuts and I punch it, denting the chrome. I don’t even care if I hurt my hand—wounds like that will heal. I stare at my distorted face. “Fuck!”

  The doors open on the ground floor, and Maddox is waiting. After one look at me, he stops. “What happened?”

  “Ask your baby-killing roommate.”

  He sighs. “She told you.”

  “She didn’t. I found lyrics to a song she wrote back then. She’s been lying to me this whole time.”

  He looks at the ceiling. “Is she okay?”

  “I don’t fucking care. She’s your problem now.”

  “Garrett, come on. She loves you. Cool off and come back later. You can’t let her leave tomorrow with things like this.”

  “I can’t? Watch me. She made her bed, man. Now she gets to lie in it, right next to the blood from our dead baby.”

  I exit the building, throat burning. I swallow a huge lump when I see families on the street. Fathers pushing strollers. Mothers holding ice-cream cones for their toddlers. Kids on scooters. I follow one with my eyes. She could be mine. I could have been a dad.

  I thought marrying Rob was the worst thing she’d ever done to me.

  I was wrong.

  Chapter Forty

  Reece

  Six years ago …

  I hear the baby crying through the monitor. I get up, throw on a robe, and pad down the hallway past the music room and bowling alley. The hall gets longer and the cries louder with every step I take. I quicken my pace. I still can’t get to him. I run, my feet aching and my lungs burning. I finally reach his room. The cries stop, and my heart beats wildly. Is he okay?

  “No, he’s not okay.” Garrett’s standing in the doorway. “He’ll never be okay because you killed him.”

  I go to the crib and gaze at the faceless, nameless baby. Then I scream.

  I wake in a pool of sweat. The nightmares are getting worse. I change my sleep shirt and go out to the living room, turning on the TV for distraction. Every channel I flip to is another reminder of what I did six weeks ago. Must every late-night program have a baby or a pregnant woman? I turn it off and throw down the remote.

  I pick up my phone and text Rob.

  Me: Are you awake?

  Rob: I was just turning in. You have another nightmare?

  Me: Yes.

  Rob: Want me to come over?

  Me: It’s one o’clock in the morning.

  Rob: Doesn’t matter.

  Me: No. You’ve done so much already.

  I think about him holding my hand when I aborted his brother’s baby—before I blacked out from blood loss. After the night I told him, he never said another word about telling Garrett. He never tried to talk me out of keeping it a secret, and he never made me feel guilty. He did exactly what he said he would do—offered me support.

  I trace the raised pink scar on my wrist. He sat by my side again three weeks later.

  He’s been my rock the past six weeks. It can’t be easy for him, because I’m a wreck. I still haven’t gone back to work. Most days I can’t even get out of bed. Rob assured me it was only the hormones, but I know better.

  Rob: I told you I’d be here for you.

  Me: Just talking to you helps.

  Rob: How about I cook you breakfast tomorrow? I mean today. I can be there at eight.

  Rob cooking breakfast for me has become one of the highlights of my existence. He doesn’t simply make pancakes. He goes the whole nine yards. Eggs, sausage, and hash browns.

  Me: If you don’t pass the bar, Sheila will hire you as a cook on the spot.

  He sends me half a dozen laughing emojis.

  ~ ~ ~

  I hear a bark. Thinking it’s a dream, I turn over in bed.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  I wake up and focus on Rob. Right, I gave him a key. Those first few weeks after the abortion, he came over every day, and I got tired of getting out of bed to let him in.

  It takes me a moment to realize what’s in his arms. “You have a puppy?”

  He sits down on the bed and puts the cute furball next to my face. The puppy gives me kisses. “I got him for you. Thought you could use a distraction. A friend of mine had a litter. He’s part poodle, part lab.”

  I pick him up and let him lick my face. “He’s adorable.”

  “Everything you’ll need is in the living room.”

  After exploring my bed and chewing on my hands, the pup falls asleep in my lap. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

  “Anything for you.” He clears his throat and quickly gets up. “I knocked on the front door. You must have crashed hard after we talked last night.”

  “I did. Talking with you always makes me fee
l better.”

  He looks at me with guilty eyes. We’re both thinking the same thing, that Garrett is the one I should be talking to. He’s the one who should be making breakfast, the one I should look forward to seeing. And I do, but it’s been almost four months. We’re over the hump. There’s only two months to go.

  I should be getting more excited about seeing him, not less. It’s because of the guilt I feel over getting pregnant. Will he be able to tell somehow? Can our relationship survive this monumental secret between us?

  We go to the other room, and I put the sleeping puppy on the couch.

  “Get your ass in the kitchen and shred the potatoes,” Rob says.

  We cook side-by-side, keeping an eye on the puppy. When the food is ready, we eat in silence, but there’s no awkwardness. It feels normal. Satisfying even.

  Rob picks up his phone, reads something, and looks at me as if he’s about to be sick.

  “What is it?”

  “A Yale buddy of mine texted me. The results of the bar exam are in.”

  “Did you pass?”

  “I don’t know. I have to log in to the site to find out.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “What if I didn’t pass?”

  “You passed.”

  “But what if—”

  “Rob, you’re the smartest person I know. You passed.”

  He taps around on his phone. I walk up behind him, peering over his shoulder. It takes him a minute, what with all the passwords and test IDs and such.

  He drops his phone on the table. “I passed!” He jumps out of his seat and picks me up, spinning around with me in his arms. “I fucking passed!”