Prodigal Son: A Sexy Single Dad Romance: Book 2 in the Marked Men 2nd Generation Series (The Forever Marked Series)

by Jay Crownover

  I barely managed to unpack the essentials elsewhere in the house, and I was having difficulty sleeping down the hall in the master bedroom. It wasn’t only the baby waking me up every hour with her fussing; it was the replay of everything that led me back to Denver, and after seeing Remy, everything that drove me away from home in the first place. It seemed like whenever I had a woman in my life who was important to me in one way or another, I was bound to screw it up.

  I couldn’t love Remy the way she wanted… no, needed me to when I was younger. I didn’t know how. And I couldn’t be there physically for Hollyn’s mother because of work and my commitments to the Army. I couldn’t let that happen with the little girl who had finally cried herself to sleep and was currently resting in her pretty white crib. I would have to explain to her one day about me and her mother and tell her why she had two last names—the same way I did—but not the person attached to one of them. I knew exactly what it was like to grow up wondering about the person who had birthed you. Wondering if you looked like her? If you acted like her? If she would still want you, given the chance? If she would love you? If she would be proud of you? Would your life be any different if she was still alive? It didn’t matter that I had parents who gave me everything and loved me unconditionally; I still wondered and still felt the loss of the woman I was too young to fully remember and never got the chance to know.

  I sighed deeply and slumped down to the floor with my back against the crib. It was dark in the nursery; the only light came from an elephant-shaped night-light on the other side of the room. I closed my eyes, buried the heels of my hands into the sockets, and rubbed furiously. The lack of sleep was starting to get to me, and I regretted not taking my mom up on her offer to stay with me for a few days while Hollyn and I adjusted to being in a new place. The baby was very fussy, and I was constantly trying not to read more into her outbursts than there was. Every time she screamed her little head off and turned red, I ran through a list of things that could possibly be wrong with her. I was ready to run her to the emergency room more than once a day. Luckily my family was close and did a pretty good job of talking me off the ledge whenever I got too close to it.

  My mom made sure my bed was made and that both the baby and I had our wardrobes unpacked. My aunt made sure the fridge was stocked and there were meals I could shove in the microwave to reheat in a rush. I was determined to be as hands-on with Hollyn as possible, but it was becoming crystal clear I would need more help along the way. I needed a plan for what I was going to do when it was time to start my new job—and so I could sleep for more than twenty minutes at a time. My family was the best, but I didn’t want any of them to stop living their own lives to cater to me and the baby. She was my responsibility, and it was my job to make sure she was taken care of, even when I couldn’t be there.

  The idea of hiring a nanny or live-in au pair was daunting and sort of made me sick to my stomach. That meant trusting a stranger with someone irreplaceable and precious in my life. That meant having faith in someone else to be there no matter what and believing they would put Hollyn’s needs before everything else. It was pretty overwhelming to consider, and I was so damn tired. I felt like I couldn’t think straight, and I doubted any decision I made was going to be right.

  I got up, left the nursery, and picked up my phone from where I dropped it when I rushed in to see why Hollyn was so upset. I knocked the corner of the device against my forehead. My dad was usually the one I turned to when I couldn’t wrap my head around something. He was always the biggest voice of reason in my life. I didn’t have a lot of friends, other than the kids I grew up with, like Remy and the other Archers and my cousin Joss. There were a couple of guys I got along with in my different units when I was in the Army, but no one I really clicked with until I got to Georgia. There I met another kid who’d enlisted because he was out of options, more than having a desire to serve. He was also the son of a police officer who was killed while on duty, so we shared the tragic loss of a parent as a tie that bound us. He didn’t seem to mind that I was quiet and withdrawn. He never seemed to care that I didn’t joke around or goof off like many other young soldiers. He didn’t pressure me to talk about my past or open up about why I was so serious all the time, which I appreciated. I considered him my best bud and let him into the dark places inside of me I hadn’t shown to anyone other than Remy. It would burn deep in my gut until the end of time that my fragile faith in someone else was repaid with infidelity and betrayal. It was never me he was interested in getting close to. It was always Hollyn’s mom. He stuck with it until she relented and gave in.

  If I was a more forgiving person, I would almost admire his dedication and perseverance… almost.

  Since it was late, I couldn’t call my dad. He woke up early for work, and any call this late would inevitably send both him and Mom into panic mode. They’d be on their way to my house before I could get a single word out. My cousin was also married and had a couple kids of her own. She would definitely pick up if I called her, but I didn’t want to disrupt her entire household. My Aunt Echo was the only one who wouldn’t freak out if she saw my name on the display this close to midnight, but she and my Uncle Benny had already done so much for me lately, I didn’t want to bug her again so soon, and not when I was trying to convince everyone I was okay and knew what I was doing.

  There was a tiny, irrational voice in the back of my mind that kept screaming at me that everyone was just waiting for me to screw up with the baby. It tried to convince me that Hollyn would be taken away if I did the slightest thing wrong. I knew it was paranoid, but when it was late, and I was as tired as I was, that stupid voice sounded so certain.

  There was only one person left to call. Remy.

  I should’ve forgotten her number considering all the time and tragedy that existed between us. But even after multiple phone and number changes on my end, I still had Remy programmed into my favorites. Having her number in my phone was like a security blanket. It comforted me regardless of where I happened to be in the world or what I was doing. It was playing with fire. On more than one occasion, I drunk dialed her and always regretted it the next day. Fortunately, she never answered and never returned the calls.

  When I first left and she was initially released from the hospital after a mandatory psychiatric hold, she called me nonstop. Sometimes hundreds of times a day. She left messages where she cursed me out and called me every name in the book. She texted paragraphs pleading with me to talk to her and to come back home. All of it was as intense and as overboard as Remy always was…until it suddenly stopped. Out of the blue, it was like she fell off the face of the planet, and I didn’t hear from her anymore. I was worried about the abrupt switch in behavior and messaged her brother to make sure she was okay. Zowen let me know in no uncertain terms that it would be best if I lost Remy’s number and never tried to contact her again. He promised me she was fine and told me she was in therapy and going through the process to find a medical cocktail that would help her live her life a little bit easier. She cut me off intentionally and didn’t want me to intrude in her life or on her newfound peace of mind.

  I wish I could say I was a good enough man to respect her wishes, but there were times when I desperately needed to hear the sound of her voice. It was the one sound that centered me. It was the one sound that made me feel like everything would be all right even if I royally fucked up. From the time I was a child until now, Remy’s voice was how I found my way out of my own head. I could follow her happy laughter, her cheery tone, to the ends of the Earth if need be. She was always the brightest spot in my personal darkness. My very own north star. And tonight, I needed to hear her, even if it was only her voicemail greeting.

  I pressed the number I knew by heart and held my breath as the line rang and rang on the other end. It was late, and I knew I was the last person she wanted to talk to, so it wasn’t a shock there wasn’t an immediate answer. I honestly expected her to send me to voicemail as soon as she saw wh
o was calling, which would have been preferable to this instance when she picked up and breathlessly asked, “Who is this?”

  It was my own fault she didn’t save my rotating number since I removed myself from her life, but it still stung to know she hadn’t kept any way to get in touch with me over the years.

  “It’s Hyde. Sorry to bother you so late.” My voice sounded raspy and ragged to my own ears. I could hear how tired and stressed I was, and I secretly hoped maybe my pitiful state would buy me some sympathy points with my former best friend.

  The truth was, I missed her. I missed midnight calls with her. I missed never knowing what she was going to do next. I missed the way she made me laugh and the way she made me angry. I missed her infectious smile and mischievous spirit. I missed all the color she brought to everything she did, and how deeply she cared about the things she was passionate about. There were times when I even missed the crazy way she used to love me and dodging her awkward advances. I knew no one in my life was ever going to treat me like I was the end-all and be-all of everything the way Remy Archer did. I honestly would’ve appreciated her devotion if it hadn’t scared the shit out of me. And if I had any clue what to do with any of it.

  “Hyde? Is everything okay? Why are you calling me?” She sounded alarmed, and I could hear her shifting around in bed like she was getting up.

  “I’m okay. The baby is fine, I just…” I trailed off and let my head slump forward until my forehead touched my bent knees. “I’m tired, and I don’t know what to do when it’s time to leave Hollyn with someone when I start work in a couple of weeks. How do new parents do this shit? It’s exhausting.”

  “Uhh...” There was more rustling fabric and the sound of something falling to the floor. Remy swore, and I could clearly picture her shoving her curly hair out of her face in frustration. “I mean, I don’t know anything about having a kid. I don’t know how anyone does anything with a baby. They seem so breakable.” She cleared her throat and told me to hold on while she grabbed a glass of water. When she came back on the line, she sounded more alert. “I do know when something seems hard, or even impossible, it’s okay to ask for help. Maybe that’s where you should start. It might be a good idea to ask someone who has actually had a baby to find out what worked best for them. Parents need other parent friends to ask for advice. Just look at ours.”

  “I don’t want new friends.” The words sounded more bitter than I intended, and I realized I was very close to losing the iron grip I had clamped on my emotions lately. “New friends didn’t work out so well for me the last time I made one.” I wanted to pour my heart out to her. I wanted to vent about my former friend and my former girlfriend. I wanted to tell her how hard it was to grieve through the anger of betrayal and how difficult it was to find forgiveness, because at the end of the day, I still wanted Hollyn to know about the good parts of her mother. But I knew it wasn’t right to drop all of that on Remy without notice. I hadn’t earned the right to vent to her the way I once did.

  “Oh. Well, okay…then ask a professional. Talk to a childcare expert or someone who has live-in help. Hell, even your mom had to have someone help when you were little. She worked crazy hours when you and your dad first moved in with her. Whatever she did with you worked out. You turned out fine.”

  I was so far from fine, but I didn’t call her to bitch about that. I called because I needed someone to tell me everything was going to be all right, no matter what. Even if it wasn’t true.

  “I have a hard time picturing a stranger in my house while I’m gone. I can’t imagine leaving Hollyn alone all day with someone I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to find something wrong with everyone on purpose so I don’t have to actually pick someone. I’m so scared of making a mistake; it makes me unable to do anything. I’m frozen.”

  I’d never been so cold.

  “Don’t do it alone. Ask for help. Have your parents interview candidates. Better yet, ask your Uncle Ben to do the interviews. That guy is super scary. No one is going to mess with him. Hire a service that vets childcare providers. Start slow and work your way up to leaving her home alone with someone. Honestly, if Daire hadn’t had such a terrible summer, I would suggest you have her stay with the baby for the first few weeks when you go back to work. She’s great with kids and could use the distraction. It’s going to be all right, Hyde. Like you said, this is something all working parents have to deal with at some point. You’re lucky to be surrounded by family and friends. If you were still in Georgia, it would be much harder.”

  As soon as Remy said the magic words, I felt like I could breathe again. I probably should’ve tried to catch as much elusive rest as possible while Hollyn was sleeping, but talking to Remy did so much more for my current state of mind.

  “Thank you for answering my call. I didn’t think you would.”

  She snorted loudly, and I heard her sheet rustle again. “If I had your number saved, I wouldn’t have.”

  I put a hand to the center of my chest, in the very place where it felt like her words speared right through my heart.

  “I feel better after talking to you, Remy. It’s good to hear your voice.” The sound took me back to a time and place when my life was less terrifying. There wasn’t a single deployment or assignment in eight years of my service that scared me as much as nearly losing my newborn daughter. Even when I felt fully responsible for Remy, it was less pressure than I felt now. I failed the first girl who loved me with her whole heart. I couldn’t fail the second one I’d been blessed with.

  I was getting ready to say goodnight when Remy’s quiet voice came across the line.

  “Talking to you makes me feel terrible, Hyde. Your voice hurts me. Do me a favor and think about that next time you have a midnight crisis.”

  She didn’t even give me a chance to apologize. She hung up and once again effectively cut me off.

  It was vastly different to feel barely tolerated by her than to be loved by her. There was no denying I preferred the second.

  She closed the door to her heart that was always wide open with welcome. Now it felt like I was on the outside banging on it, begging to be let in. I foolishly thought there was a way to go back to the way we’d always been now that she no longer loved me. But it seemed like there was no salvaging our friendship unless I could figure out a way to get her to forgive me for leaving her when she was at her worst.

  The problem with that was, I hadn’t managed to forgive myself yet.

  Remy

  “ZOWEN, I’M ABOUT to take a car service home. I sent you a picture of the license plate. If I don’t call you within the next hour… assume something bad happened and avenge me.”

  I giggled loudly at my own joke and held up a finger to let the driver know I needed a minute. “I left my car in the paid parking lot near Suzy’s Bar. If I forget where it is in the morning, remind me.”

  I’d finally gotten the little red sports car back from Wheeler after he was done thoroughly tuning it up and making sure it would withstand the Colorado winter that was right around the corner. Zowen almost cried with relief when I gave him back the street bike he lent me in the interim. I wasn’t sure if he was more relieved to get his toy back or that I hadn’t crashed and burned in the weeks I’d been riding it.

  “Have you been drinking?” The deep voice on the other end of the phone sounded confused and a bit surprised.

  I nodded even though my brother couldn’t see me. “Just a little bit. I really wanted to see the band playing tonight. Bowe told me they were good. You know I used to work at this bar, so I know everyone. I had a couple drinks to relax. You know I had a rough week.” I had felt off ever since that midnight phone call with Hyde. I couldn’t get it—or him—out of my mind, and I was driving myself crazy because I knew I was reading too much into the fact he still had my number after all this time. “I told you, stop worrying about me. I know my limits, and I’m not driving.”

  I slipped into the back of the car and waved my free hand at
the driver, who asked me to verify my address while looking at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Are you supposed to mix alcohol with your medication? That sounds dangerous, Remy.”

  I scowled and shook my finger in the air. I’m sure the sight was hilarious to anyone who happened to catch it. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m the big sister? You’re the little brother. Stop trying to manage my life, Zowen.” I sighed and slumped back in the leather seat. I could see the driver still watching me in the mirror, so I schooled my expression into one that was less mutinous. “No, I shouldn’t mix booze and meds. We both know that. But there are days when I want to pretend like I’m just like everyone else and unwind. I can’t follow the rules and do the right thing all the time. I’m not wired that way. As long as I don’t take it too far, things will be fine.”

  There was a litany of swear words on the other end of the call followed by a heavy sigh. “The problem with you is that you never know how far is too far. Give your phone to the driver.”

  I snorted. “Why are you so bossy tonight? You sound just like Mom.”

  “Hand the phone over. Now.” There was no room for argument in his tone.

  Not wanting to fight with my brother, and starting to feel sleepy because I really wasn’t supposed to mix my meds and alcohol, I handed my phone to the driver after muttering that my brother wanted to talk to him. While I was in the bar, surrounded by friends and dancing my butt off, I couldn’t feel the effects of the few cocktails I’d had. Sure, I was a bit buzzed, but now that it was just me in the back of a stranger’s car, trusting him to get me home safe and sound while my eyes got heavy and my head started to feel fuzzier and fuzzier, I realized I may have indulged more than I should’ve. It was so hard to always be hyper-aware that any little thing could alter the chemistry inside my brain and switch me from okay to very not okay in a matter of minutes. Usually, I didn’t mind the maintenance I knew I required, but lately, putting in the work to make sure I remained well felt overwhelming, and I resented the hell out of it. Which was dangerous. Very dangerous.