Full Count (Cessna U Wildcats Book 3)

by Kimberly Readnour

  “You’re willing to give up motherhood for me? I can’t let you do that.”

  “I chose you.” Her sobs came rushed and heavy. She jarred the driver’s door open, knocking me back. “I didn’t realize you’d get a piece of ass the first chance you got. I’ll never forgive you, Garret.”

  She slipped behind the seat and slammed the door. I stood there, mouth agape. It wasn’t until the purr of her engine that I snapped out of it.

  “Liv, you can’t drive like this. You’re too upset.”

  She didn’t look at me as she pressed the gas pedal, and the car jerked forward.

  “Liv. Don’t go,” I yelled, beating on the side of her car, but she kept going. The more I screamed, the faster she accelerated. It wasn’t until the last second I saw the delivery truck approaching the four-way stop sign. One moment, and all of my actions crumbled to nothingness as the grinding of metal and plastic collided.

  “Liv!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lexie

  Current Day

  Bah humbug!

  Mom comes waltzing in the kitchen, humming a Christmas carol. The Christmas holiday may officially be here, but I’m not in the mood to listen to anything cheery. And I don’t want to rock around anything, let alone a Christmas tree. Not after the shitty weekend I had.

  “I know finals are coming up, but if you don’t have too much studying, we could decorate the tree later this afternoon.”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” I try to sound enthusiastic. It’s not Mom’s fault Friday’s date still weighs heavily on my mind or how I didn’t receive a fun fact text all weekend. I grab the frying pan and place it in the sink. Mom made eggs and bacon this morning, and I was finishing up the dirty dishes.

  “Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Mom asks.

  “Thanksgiving was just last Thursday.”

  “We always put the tree up Thanksgiving weekend. What’s going on? You’ve been sulky all weekend. Did things not go well with your dad?”

  Grief, where do I even begin with that clusterfuck? “It went as well as expected. I mean, we are talking about Dad.”

  “How’s his new girlfriend? It’s been about five months now. She’s stayed with him longer than the others.”

  “She’s okay.” If you like bitches. Discussing Dad’s new girlfriend with Mom is the last thing I want to do. I have nothing against Jillian personally other than the fact that the skinny, gorgeous, and overly flirtatious woman drones on about nutrition—particularly my nutritional behaviors. Okay, so maybe I don’t like her. But how can I when she aims those passive-aggressive comments toward me?

  “You know how Jillian teaches a nutrition class at her gym?” I ask.

  “Yeah, you’ve mentioned it before.” Mom shoos me out of the way and dives right into washing the last remaining items in the sink. I slide over and start drying the few plates stacked in the dish rack.

  “Dinner was weird. It was as if the sole purpose of me being there was to join her class.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her and Dad started in about my weight before we even had a chance to order.”

  The pan in Mom’s hand slips. Suds splash in the air. She grips the edge of the counter and glances at me. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. It was as if we stepped into an infomercial.” I pitch my voice higher to match Jillian’s. “If I visit now, I can get slim and trim by New Year’s Eve.”

  “I swear, your father wants everyone to be anorexic,” Mom mutters underneath her breath. “The last thing you need to do is lose weight. You don’t believe her, do you?”

  “No, of course not, but the entire scene was embarrassing with Garret sitting next to me. He spoke out in my defense, but he didn’t need to witness their criticism.” And that criticism had angered Garret. That was apparent. But his demeanor changed the second he laid eyes on Jillian. Before she arrived at the table, he was relaxed. Sure, he got mad when Dad started his spiel before she joined us, but the moment he saw her, his body went rigid. And I could’ve sworn I saw recognition in both of their eyes. But then they played it off as if they didn’t know each other. Why would they do that? I stack the plates in the cupboard and grab the pan Mom finally washed. “It was a shitshow after that.”

  I explained how Garret stood up for me and how he took me to a burger place. I leave out the part where he grew distant. Or how he blew me off this weekend using some flimsy excuse of leaving town. We talk every day. Not once in the past week had he mentioned going anywhere. We had joked that Grant better have chocolate cake for us since it was the last weekend for our chapter to help. Why would he joke about cake if he wasn’t planning on being there? None of this makes sense.

  “Good for Garret for sticking up for you. It’s about damn time someone put that bastar—” She stops and clears her throat. “That guy in his place.”

  “You can call him a bad name, Mom.” I do all the time.

  “I just don’t understand him.”

  “Same. Maybe Jillian needs to fill some quota before year’s end to get a bonus. Dad did offer to pay.” I scoff. “As if I’d take him up on the offer.”

  “That man! Somedays, I wonder what I ever saw in him.”

  This is why I should give up my pipe dream of being with Garret and stay single. Whatever made me think going after Garret was a good idea? In the end, all men cheat. All it takes is a new shiny object in the shape of a girl. But do I really believe that of Garret? My gut tells me no. But then again, Jillian tells me I need to lose my gut. So, what does it really know?

  “Oh, I almost forgot. I saw your friend yesterday at work.”

  My head whips to Mom. “Who did you see?”

  Before she answers, my brother decides to serenade us with his musical abilities. The loud percussion reverberates off the walls keeping in time with my pounding heart rate.

  “Oh, Lord, I wish that kid would grow into his talent.”

  I can’t think of anything but getting the answer from her. “Who did you see, Mom?” Please let it be an old friend from high school—the ones I never talk to anymore. Don’t let it be the one who told me he was leaving town.

  “Chad, shut your door,” she yells. She shakes her head before spraying the lingering suds down the sink. “We need a soundproofed room for that boy.”

  My pulse still races as I try to rein in my apprehension. Just answer my damn question. “Mom?”

  She turns back to me. “Oh, sorry, honey. I saw Garret.”

  “Yesterday? You saw him yesterday?” My mouth dries. My brain says not to jump to conclusions. I mean, there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. He could’ve stopped off before leaving town. Or he could’ve flat out lied to me. My stomach heaves.

  “Yeah, but just in passing. He was coming from the west wing. Are you okay? You don’t look so well.”

  “I’m fine. Just a little shocked. Garret couldn’t help at the Habitat house. He said he was leaving town. Maybe he had a change of plans.”

  “Whatever happened, I’m sure it’s not a big deal. It’s nice he visits family. Most young people don’t bother coming in.”

  “Yeah.” He’s a goddamn saint. And the bad part is, if he had lied, I have no grounds to be angry. We’re just friends. And other than him visiting family at a nursing home, I still don’t know what he does during the weekends. So, how close of friends are we when he won’t ever let me in?

  The kitchen is once again spotless, and I take off to my room.

  “Don’t forget about the tree later.”

  Christ. “I’ll work on some studies now.” Not that I can think between my friend lying to me and my brother’s rendition of “Enter Sandman.”

  I retrieve the cell phone from my bedroom dresser and fire off a text. I need to get to the bottom of this before jumping to conclusions. I guarantee he will give me answers tomorrow.

  Me: We need to talk. Meet me at your place for lunch?

  The next twenty-four hours will be the most
harrowing hours I’ve ever waited.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Garret

  High School

  Day After Graduation

  No one should ever endure this level of pain.

  “You have to give me an update.” I was losing my mind. The lady behind the counter gave me a pitiful look. One that said she felt sorry for me, but she also wouldn’t yield.

  “Sir, please have a seat. There’s nothing more I can do.”

  “That’s my girlfriend and my baby. I need to know if my child is okay.”

  Her eyes softened. “I understand, but I can only give information to immediate family members. I’m so sorry.”

  “But I’m the baby’s father. I have to know if they’re okay.” My voice broke. The agony of not knowing their condition was downright grueling.

  “We have specific instructions not to pass along the information. My hands are tied.”

  “Son, come have a seat. They’ll be out soon with news.” My dad’s hand rested on my back. My shoulders slumped forward in defeat. I was fucking gutted. I had done this. My dumb ass lack of caring last night might have killed my child and girlfriend. No, they had to be okay. They needed to be okay. I’d never forgive myself if they weren’t.

  I settled in the seat beside Mom. With my elbows on my knees, I leaned forward and stared straight ahead. Mom placed her hand on my back and rubbed slow circles—her silent way for sending encouragement. The practiced move reminded me of church when I’d lay across her lap. If I weren’t double her size, I’d curl up in a ball. I could have used some spiritual guidance right about now.

  Another agonizing slow hour crept by before the doors opened, revealing Mr. Fernandez and his wife. He cradled her in against him as if protecting her. I pushed to my feet.

  “How are they?” I managed to croak out.

  His dark, calculating eyes landed on me, and for a moment, I didn’t think he would speak. “We need to talk.”

  “Please, sir, tell me they’re alive.”

  “She’s breathing.”

  Mrs. Fernandez wailed as my heart broke into tiny shreds. He ushered his wife forward. “I’ll be back.”

  I shoved my hands through my hair. She’s breathing. She not he. Did that mean my baby boy was dead? Oh, God. I dropped to my knees as the worst kind of pain ripped through me. Mom rushed over to me.

  “Sweetie, you’re going to make yourself sick. You need to be strong for them. Come sit.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted to Mom. “I don’t know what to do. I think my son is dead.”

  “There isn’t much you can do but pray.” She shot a hard look in the direction Mr. Fernandez went. “I’ll say a prayer for that soul as well.”

  “There aren’t enough Hail Mary’s and Our Father’s for that guy,” my dad said in a flat tone.

  I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. I had done this. My son was dead because of my inability to see past Liv trying to save my ass. I was a fucking monster. Selfish to the core. I didn’t deserve either one of them. I should be the one dead. Not him.

  Minutes turned to hours by the time Mr. Fernandez walked back into the emergency room and summoned me. My dad stood alongside me.

  “I just need to talk to the boy,” Mr. Fernandez said.

  My dad stood straighter. “You’re not talking to my son without a parent.”

  Those black eyes narrowed. “Fine. It won’t take long.”

  I remained stoic, but my insides rejoiced a tad at having Dad with me. Thank God he had a backbone. We followed Liv’s dad to a private consultation room down the hallway. When the door clicked shut, he turned to face us.

  “Let’s cut to the chase. We had to make a decision. Our daughter’s life or the baby’s. We naturally chose Livia’s.”

  My hands balled into fists. I didn’t want to lose Livia, but I also knew her. She would’ve wanted her baby saved. Despite her actions the night before, I knew she loved that baby with all of her heart. My dad’s hand landed on my arm, attempting to calm me down. But the disregard this man had for my son’s life was maddening. I wanted to punch him so badly.

  “What happened to my baby?” I ask, my voice full of hatred.

  “They delivered them.”

  “Them?”

  “Yes, them,” he said through clenched teeth. “The boy had internal injuries and died immediately. But the girl survived.”

  It took a moment to process what he said. She carried twins. How’d we not know this? We only had the one sonogram, since that was all I could afford, but wouldn’t they have heard two heartbeats? “And Livia?”

  The color drains from his face. And just when I didn’t think my heart could break anymore, it cracked completely in two.

  “Along with her internal injuries, she shattered her leg. She threw a blood clot during surgery, which caused a stroke. It’s going to take time to see the extent of the damage. The chances look grim.”

  “Oh, God.” Tears fell from my face. My beautiful girlfriend. My son. My entire world ripped apart all because of my indiscretions.

  I felt my dad’s hand clamp my arm in sympathy. I heard the unspoken concern in Mr. Fernandez’s voice.

  “And the baby girl? Is she doing okay?”

  “She’s unscathed.”

  The only one I didn’t even know existed. My girl. I was a father. A father who had a daughter and lost a son. I was a shitty father who didn’t deserve to be this girl’s dad.

  “No one knew she was pregnant unless you told your friends.”

  “No, no one knew. As far as they know, Livia needed to homeschool due to her illness, but they suspected.”

  “They can speculate all they want, but as long as you kept your mouth shut, my plan will work.”

  “What are you proposing?”

  “It’s not a proposal. This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to either take the baby girl or sign away parental rights so she can be adopted by people who can provide for her properly.”

  “We can provide plenty,” my dad popped off, his Irish temper rearing its head.

  “Suit yourself. I was laying down the options. If you insist on keeping the child, then I have a few rules you need to follow.”

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Garret

  Current Day

  Guilt wears many hats.

  “I’m sorry my visits have been short lately. I promise from now on, we’ll have our full-length visits.” I’m met with silence as my guilt deepens. For the past couple of months, our visits were under a half-hour thanks to Habitat for Humanity. But today’s the last day for our chapter to be helping.

  Livia stares at me, not saying a word. She doesn’t have to. Her silence screams at me, and I know what she’s thinking—this isn’t the first promise I’ve broken. I seem to be good at disappointing all women lately.

  I suck in a painful breath and eye her room as Olivia sprints to the white vase and replaces the older cut flowers with the fresh ones—white daisies. A ritual she does every weekend. Nothing much in her room has changed these last few years. Her senior picture—the one that bears her warm, genuine smile that attracted me to her in the first place—sits on her dresser. That playful grin is a consistent reminder of why we’re in this situation. My gaze strays to Olivia. She trots over to Livia and plants a kiss on her cheek.

  “Hi, Momma. I brought your favorite flowers.” Silence fills the air, but it doesn’t discourage our daughter. She’s too innocent to know the difference. Olivia runs over to me and gives me a hug, which I return. “I’m going to play with my dolls.”

  “That’s fine.” My smile is sad as I watch her race to her usual corner and drag out the dolls she keeps stored here. They’ll keep her busy for a while.

  I pull up a chair beside Livia and hang my head in shame. I don’t even know where to begin. There are so many things I need to apologize for. So many things I wish I could take back. Wouldn’t it be easier
if we could erase past mistakes like sentences on a dry erase board instead of them permanently etched to our soul? Then, maybe people wouldn’t be damaged for life.

  “I’ve fucked up, Liv.” Again. The strain in my voice is pathetic and weak, even to me. I’ve broken so many promises to her. The last thing I deserve is a second chance. Hell, I don’t deserve any chance at love. That option was snatched away the moment I chose to be unfaithful to the girl sitting beside me. I can use all the excuses in the world. I was too drunk. I was too young. Livia played on my weaknesses and fears. I thought she hated me. Although, every single excuse may hold truth, none of them matter. The look on her face the next morning will forever be a stain on my soul. She had tried to protect me, and I repaid her by breaking her heart. I’m such a selfish prick.

  And I sit here today, breaking it again.

  “God, Liv, I loved you so fucking much. I know I promised after Olivia was born, there wouldn’t be anyone else coming between us. I promised you the three of us would always be a unit.” Tears prick my eyes as my voice stutters. “But I’m trying here, Liv. I’m trying really fucking hard, but…” I don’t finish the sentence and look away. It’s hardly fair to her that I’ve developed feelings for some other person when she’s reliant on me. I’m her entire support.

  I turn back to her, and that same vacant stare that’s present every weekend cuts to my core. It doesn’t matter how incredible my time spent with Lexie is. None of it matters. My future isn’t with her. My future is here fulfilling the promise I’ve made and carrying out the sentence I’ve burdened myself with. There’s no one to blame but me. I did this. I did this to us.

  A shuffling sound draws my attention to the door, but when I glance back to look, the corridor is empty. I wait a few seconds, but nothing appears. I let out a stuttering breath and return to Liv. She just lays there, lifeless.