The Devil's Match

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The Devil's Match Page 16

by Amo Jones


  She glances down at her basketball and rubs it gently. “I know, right. Now if you could tell Raze to eas—” she stops midsentence, and her eyes water all over again. I follow her line of sight, landing on a sleeping Pax in Willow’s arms. “Oh my,” she stops, her hand covering her mouth in shock. “Oh, Ella.” Her tone sets chills over my spine. That was a “You’re in deep shit, Ella,” tone.

  “What? You didn’t know?” I ask, shocked that Raze didn’t tell her.

  She glares at me. “Of course not!” Then she cuts to Raze, her tone now accusatory. “Did you?”

  Raze’s eyes dart between Millie and I. “Yeah. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d flip out and start some recovery operation.”

  “Really!” Millie snaps at him, her hands going to her hips. “And why did you wait until now to bring her home, then?”

  Raze looks at me. “We need to talk about that. When we get a chance.”

  Great.

  Millie is taking Pax off Willow when I quickly introduce them both.

  Millie sucks in a breath. “Ella, Jesus, girl. You might need to get your ass back into training. You’re going to have a very angry Frost on your hands.”

  “I doubt it,” I blurt out, watching as Millie tucks Pax’s hair behind her ear. “Raze told me about his new woman.”

  Millie chuckles. “Oh, did he now?” Then she gestures toward the house. “Don’t worry. Taylor is a civilian. Straight shooter, owns her own business I think, or it’s something like that. She’s far too boring for Frost, and also, that’s not what I was meaning.” I knew she was meaning me, running with his kid, and the more it sinks in, the more I realize how bad I’ve messed up.

  I shrug. “That doesn’t matter anymore I guess.”

  “Devil face.” Oh shit. I don’t look up to the door because fuck that. His tone drops again. “You better look at me right now before I spank you.”

  I do as I’m told. Miles, in all his glory, is standing there in an immaculate suit, the tattoos all etched into his skin and equipped with the interesting twitch he always holds in his eyes, and the demons that dance behind them. “I’m sorry.”

  “Come here.” He opens his arms wide and I fall into them, a few tears slipping out. Miles and I have had a strange friendship since I was a kid. Since Raze brought him into our family. It’s a sad and dark story, but since then, he’s sort of been that strange brother. We’re close enough, but nothing like he and Millie. He’d die for her, and I’d bet my bottom dollar that he’s still in love with his Puddin’.

  “Miles, this is Willow, Willow, Miles. She’s Frost’s sister—who he hasn’t met—Miles is my brother—who has no problems with incest.”

  He whacks me.

  “We’re not blood-related, so ignore the sexual innuendos.”

  “Much better.” He sticks his hand out to Willow. “Nice to meet you.”

  “It is?” she asks.

  He cocks his head. “That’s an interesting answer. Usually people just say, ‘you too.’”

  “I’m not most people, but thank you, and it is nice to meet you too. Sorry. Jetlag.”

  Miles nods in understanding, but his eyes flash with curiosity. “I get it. Come on, I’ll show you your room. You’re right near Ella and Pax, who by the way,” he turns to face Millie, taking her out of Millie’s arms. “Hello, my beautiful girl. I’m your favorite uncle.” He coos, jiggling her in his arms as he walks her up into the house.

  “Everything will be okay, Ella,” Millie comforts, her hand squeezing my arm slightly. “Promise.”

  I don’t think it is. I never ran from her or from my family. I ran out of fear of what Frost would do, how he would react. I ran because I loved my baby and there was no way I was going to allow anyone to tell me how to take care of it.

  I go to walk forward and follow them when everything freezes. My movements, my thoughts, nothing connected to my body is able to move. I can’t function or even fucking swallow. The deep rumbling of a bike reverberates the ground, and it has my bones shaking and my blood turning thick. My heart beats so loud that I’m drowning in the deep thudding. The bike cuts out behind me, everything going silent, and I swallow, my eyes closed.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  And there we have it. The confirmation I needed. I know that I’m the only one left outside now too, everyone would have left me to deal with him on my own, as it is to be. Like a fucking McKenna. Shit. Without turning to face him, I keep my eyes closed. “I’m not in the mood, Frost. I’ve been flying for a fucking long time.”

  “Yeah?” His voice echoes in front of me and I know he’s standing right there, so finally, I open my eyes. I feel as though my guts have dropped out of my stomach. My God. He hasn’t changed at all. His eyes still hold me captive, his lips still curve in all the right places, and his jaw is still sturdy, and I know for a fact that it’s a comfy place to sit. “I don’t give a fuck. I didn’t come for you.”

  A pang of pain pinches in my chest. Of course. He has a woman now. I shake my head. “Yeah, of course. Sorry.” He needs to leave. I’m not ready for him to see Pax.

  His eyes don’t leave mine. His mouth moves but I don’t hear it because my damn heart is thrashing in my chest from our proximity.

  “What?” I ask, watching his lips. I honest to God didn’t hear a word he just said.

  I quickly bring them back to his eyes.

  He grins.

  I flip him off.

  “Tell Raze I’ll come back tomorrow. You obviously have some catching up to do.”

  Yes, perfect. Then I can make sure that I’m not home all day.

  “I’ll tell him,” I smile sweetly, my panic attack residing.

  He’s about to walk past me when his eyes lazily go over my shoulder and then he freezes.

  “Now, I know that ain’t no newborn baby car seat.”

  Fuck.

  “Ah, yeah, no, it’s not.” There’s no point lying at this point. If he had left, I wouldn’t have had to lie, but now I’m about to be caged in. I can’t lie to him if he asks or even suspects. I can pray he doesn’t, though.

  “You had a kid? With fucking who?” I can feel heat radiating off of his body. I know that if I had had a kid with someone else, that would have sealed the deal for us probably never getting together. Frost is far too territorial and selfish with me to have me share such an intimate life with another man.

  “I do.”

  His eyes search mine. “Where is he or she?”

  “Ah.”

  “She’s here—” Miles cuts in from behind Frost, standing at the door. Fuck. Fuck, double fuck. Everything is about to crumble, but at least it’s happening on my turf.

  Frost’s eyes search mine in that way they always do, with his eyebrows pulled in, and then they got to the car seat. He turns around to face Miles, and then he turns rigid. The atmosphere turns cold.

  “Mama!” Pax calls out. I swipe the tears off of my cheek with a shaky hand.

  “Yeah, baby, Mama is coming.” I go to step around Frost and his arm flies out, stopping me.

  “Mama will be in soon. Miles….”

  Miles looks between the two of us, shakes his head, and then nods in understanding before he proceeds to take Pax back inside. Traitor. But this is how our world works. We have to dish in for the shit we dish out, it’s how respect is earned, and I wouldn’t want to go down any other way.

  Frost’s leather covered back slowly turns until his eyes are dead on mine. “Is she mine?” His voice is low, a notch above a growl.

  I don’t answer, and he launches his fist into the window of the truck, smashing it into thousands of pieces. “God fucking dammit, Ella, is she fucking mine!” he roars, and I burst into tears, dropping to the ground while covering my ears with my hands. My heart snaps in my chest. I wanted to see her grow. I wanted to see her graduate, paint her nails with her when she was big. I wanted to take her on girl’s days out. I wanted to take her to café’s and order her a fluffy hot choco
late while I sucked my coffee hit.

  I can still hear his heavy breathing as blood drips down the side of my face from his hand. “Get on the fucking bike, Ella.”

  “Please… Frost… please don’t kill me.”

  “Get. On. The. Fucking. Bike. Ella.”

  I stand, doing as I’m told. He gets on, but I don’t bring my eyes to his. I just follow my cue by shadows. Swinging my leg over, out of instinct, I wrap my arms around his stomach and hold on tightly. I’ll never see her again. A fresh set of tears pour out of me, and my chest aches. The tires rip up the driveway as he pulls out, and I close my eyes, letting the hurt takeover. With every sob, my crying gets worst. My baby girl. By the time we’re stopping, my chest is heaving, my breath is hiccupping, and my eyes are puffy, raw and red. I’m a mess.

  He shuts off the bike and we stay in that position for a few beats. Finally, I open my eyes onto a modest single-story house. It has a couple of large white pillars at the front and looks to be painted in autumn warm colors. The stairs leading to the front door are varnished wood, and there’s a swing that sits on the porch. The outside light is flicked on, making it feel warm and welcoming. It’s so beautiful that it briefly distracts me from my doom.

  “Fuck,” Frost whispers out hoarsely, his head dropping into the palm of his hand that’s probably still bleeding. That single word was said in such a raw tone, that it was the most emotion I have ever heard in his voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I answer, although I’m pretty sure my presence is just making this whole thing worse.

  He collects himself and then gets off the bike. I follow behind him up the steps until he stops and pulls out his keys, unlocking the door, and pushing it open. The inside is much like the outside. Warm and welcoming with modern furnishings, and a tidy appearance. It’s nice. The walls are all a creamy dark grey with white trimmings, and the couch that is in the sitting room is pure black leather. There’s a massive TV that hangs on the wall with a monster sound system, and just behind the sitting room is a modern kitchen with marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. It’s nice. It doesn’t look like something a biker would own, not to stereotype or anything, but these guys are chillingly scary. So, seeing this is Frost’s home, has me shaken.

  I shut the door behind myself, and Frost walks straight to the kitchen, opening the fridge.

  “Can you get this over with, please. I don’t want to drag it out. It’s too haunting.”

  He comes back toward me and hands me a beer. My eyes shoot between him and the bottle, about to question him, but think, hmmm, better not. I take the bottle and then follow him into the sitting room, taking a seat on the edge of the leather sofa.

  “Frost...”

  “What’s she like?”

  The way he asked that question sounded normal, smooth. Not one coming from a man who just found out he had a two-year-old daughter.

  “Pax?” I ask, but it was a stupid question. Of course he meant Pax.

  “You named my kid Pax?” He looks disgusted.

  “She’s named after the Roman goddess of peace!” I snap, offended.

  He rolls his eyes and hikes the sole of his boot onto the coffee table in the middle of the room, slouching back. “So? We’re fucking American, Ella. Not fucking Roman.”

  “Would you rather I call her Snowflake?”

  “Fucking yeah,” he nods, and I thought he was kidding until I saw he was not.

  “No. It’s bad enough that I endured over twenty hours of labor all for her to pop out and look exactly like you. I wasn’t giving her a name like yours too.”

  He beams proudly, and it’s the first time I have ever seen his eyes light up. “Knew she was mine when I saw her.”

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask, rolling the beer bottle between my hands.

  His eyes cut to mine. “I should.”

  I suck in a breath.

  “But no, Ella. I’m not. As fucked up as it is, the same reason I want to kill you is the same reason that is keeping you alive.”

  “Pax?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I can’t take away her mom.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  I take a sip of the beer and feel my nerves slowly relax.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook. You kept my fucking kid from me for almost three years, Ella. Why the fuck did you run?”

  I think over his question. “Honestly, there are a lot of reasons why I chose to run. But the biggest of all,” I pause, and then bring my eyes to his. He watches me intently and my heart begins thudding in my chest again. It will always be him. “Fear.”

  His eyes stay connected on mine, and I don’t break the contact. I don’t want to because in this very moment, it’s us again. Us against the world.

  He looks away and takes a long gulp of his drink. “Your instincts were always accurate.”

  He puts his beer bottle on the table. “What’s she like? Tell me about her.”

  “Well,” I slide backward into the couch and get comfortable. “Her favorite color right now is yellow. We’ve been in the snow for the past, however long, so I’m gathering it has something to do with the sun because a few months ago, she loved pink.” I pause, and then my mouth stretches in a smile. “Her first word was ‘mine.’” I bring my eyes back to Frost. “Fitting. Considering your final words to me were something along the same lines.”

  “Really?” he adds, a grin kicking up on the corner of his mouth. My heart flutters and my gut sinks. It needs to stop doing that. “’Cuz if I can recall, that was also the word I used when I was balls deep in you, too.”

  “And that,” I snap at him again. “Anyway,” back to more pressing topics, “she’s really quite smart for her age. She loves everyone fiercely. She always tries to talk and loves sounding out new words. My favorite is Untle Chay.”

  “Hold up,” Frost’s voice drops low.

  Shit. I mentioned Chase.

  “About that,” he seethes. “I should kill you for that alone. You ran off to play happy family all loved up with Chase, with my fucking kid.”

  “Loved up?” I jerk my head in shock. “No. Chase and I were nothing but close friends. He helped with Pax a lot and purchased a house in Birmingham where we stayed. But we were never together.”

  His eyes search mine until it’s borderline chilling. “You ain’t with him?”

  “No!” I repeat, my tone inching more toward the annoyed side. “Not like you have shit to say anyway. Heard about Taylor.”

  He seems to think over what I’ve just said, then his eyebrows pull together humorlessly. “Yeah, she’s pretty great.” I don’t miss the bite in his tone.

  “Cool!”—it was not cool. I felt sick. I stand from the sofa. “I can catch a cab home. If you want to get to know Pax, of course, I’m all for it. Whenever you’re free, I can bring her around here or to the clubhouse, wherever you’d prefer.”

  His eyes narrow a couple of times, his jaw clenching as if he’s studying me. He’ll get an F this time.

  He stands. “I’ll take you home, and yeah, I want every single day with her.”

  “Every day?” I gasp.

  “Yes, every-fucking-day, Ella. You took away almost three years. I want the next lifetime with her. Are we clear?”

  “Well, yes, and that’s great, but I sort of didn’t expect you to be so open with getting to know her.”

  “She’s my kid, Ella. Whatever the fuck is going on between you and I, she will never hear of.”

  “Okay,” I nod, surprised that we can actually make decisions like real adults. For once. It took our daughter to have us finally acting like adults, but nevertheless, I’m pleased.

  “Here’s the thing, baby.” Okay, there’s a thing. I knew this was coming. Frost and his things. His fingers wrap around my chin, tilting my head up so my eyes are in line with his. “We’re not good people separated, but together? We’re even fucking worse. So whatever destruction explodes between us, can never touch Pax. Not even
the fucking shards from the blast. We need to keep this clean.” Meaning, he’s over me, well over me, and I need to get that through my thick skull.

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” His hands drop to either side of him and he gestures to the door. “Let’s ride.”

  I get off his bike and hand him his helmet. “Thanks for dropping me off.”

  He nudges his head, and I spin around to walk to the front door, but then I stop and turn back around to face him. He was still watching me, and with that, my cheeks heat. “Hey, do you wanna come in now and meet her? I mean, she’s probably asleep what from the travel, but then maybe not because the terror ran around Iris most of the way back, but, only if you want? No pressure or anything.” He could have done a lot worse to me, but he didn’t. I appreciate that, and I can see how much he wants to get to know his daughter. Why not start now since I’m no longer tired what with all the adrenalin pumping through my veins from my near-death experience.

  He stills, then smiles. “Yeah, all right.” He gets off his bike, just as his phone rings in his pocket. He grabs it, studies the screen, and then glances back to me. I didn’t have to ask to know that it’s her.

  “Oh, I’ll give you some privacy.”

  “Ella, shut up.” He swipes it unlocked and then answers down the phone, “You finished work?”

  There’s a long pause. “Yeah, look, there’s something I need to tell you. I’ll meet you at mine later.” Then he hangs up and gestures to the door. “After you.” I feel sick. Like motion sickness is churning in my stomach. He must care somewhat for this girl or he wouldn’t have kept her around for so long. Unreasonable jealousy blazes deep in my chest and then I feel it slowly spread through my veins. I’m getting angry. The traveling, lack of sleep, jetlag, and hunger pains are not helping me at all either.

  He closes the front door just as Pax comes running toward us across the glass tiled floor. The manor is still the same, maybe a few things updated, not that anything needed updating. This house is equipped with around twenty-something rooms, including cinemas, pools, a basketball court, and all that fancy stuff. Raze is rich enough to buy himself into the fucking White House.

 

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