Accidental Baby

by Banks, R. R.

  Jake looks over, his face darkening. “Shut it, Lester,” he hisses.

  “Hell, gimme that money, and I'll tell you where you can find her,” Lester says, laughing.

  Jake doesn't move, his eyes narrowing as he stares at the older man. Slowly, his gaze returns to mine, and I just shrug and reach out to pick up the money. If I can't get the information from Jake, I'll get it from somebody else.

  His hand flashes out, and he puts it on top of mine. He licks his lips, and I can see the nervousness in his eyes. He so badly wants the money, but I can tell he's also struggling with the idea of putting Katie in harm's way.

  And I don’t blame him for that. In fact, I respect him for it. He doesn't know me from Adam. Doesn't know if I'm going over there to do something terrible to her or not. In this day and age, you can't be too careful. I get it. I really do.

  But, I also need that address.

  “Look,” I say. “All I want to do is talk to her. I know she's pissed, and I want to make it right. My name is Aidan Anderson. I live up in Whitetail Hollow. Sheriff Keller knows who I am. If anything happens to Katie, he'll know where to find me. I'm being straight with you here, kid. I only want to talk to her.”

  I fish a business card out of my wallet it and slap it down on the stack of hundreds. It has my name, the company name, my office phone, and personal phone numbers.

  “Anything bad happens, that's how you can find me,” I say.

  I take my hand off the card and the money, and Jake reaches out, slowly and hesitantly, but finally scoops it all up and quickly shoves the whole pile into his pocket. He grabs a pad of paper and a pen and scrawls something down and slides it over to me.

  “You did not get this from me,” he warns.

  “My lips are sealed,” I reply. “You have my word.”

  I turn and head out of the bar, armed with the information I needed. Now comes the hard part.

  * * *

  Oliver is sitting patiently at my side, his head raised, as I knock on the door and wait for a long couple of minutes. I lean forward, straining my ears, but hear nothing. I check the address on the paper Jake gave me against the address of the house. It's the right place. Katie's car is in the driveway. I knock again, step back, and wait.

  Katie's house is a bitch to find and I think I passed it half a dozen times before realizing my mistake. It's nestled back in a small clearing in the woods at the end of a long driveway. You'd never see it from the road if you didn't know what you were looking for.

  I hear the muted creak of a floorboard from the other side of the door and suddenly get the feeling that I'm being watched. It's like a pressure that's weighing down on me. The unseen gaze carries a physical weight to it. There are windows on either side of the door with curtains drawn over them both. I can't see anybody peeking around them, but I can feel somebody on the other side, watching me.

  A moment later, I hear the locks on the door being thrown, and then it swings open a crack. Katie, looking like she'd just woken up, is standing there, peering at me, then around me, with wide eyes, and a look of fear on her face.

  “You – okay?” I ask.

  She clears her throat and then opens the door a little wider, standing in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest, an irritated look on her face. She's burning holes through me with her glare – which is about what I expected, to be honest.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  I hold up the bags in my hands and give her what I hope is a charming smile.

  “I came to offer an olive branch,” I say. “And to talk.”

  “I don't think we have anything to talk about,” she says, her voice cold. “I think you made things pretty clear the last time I saw you. And over the last month of radio silence.”

  “That's what I wanted to talk to you about,” I say.

  She stares at me with her chin raised and her jaw set. Yeah, she's not happy with me at all right now.

  “How'd you find out where I live?” she asks, her tone sharp.

  “I'm a resourceful man,” I say and grin. She doesn't smile back. “Look, you have every right to be pissed –”

  “You're damn right I do,” she snaps.

  “Please, Katie,” I say. “I just want to talk.”

  She lets out a long breath, and I notice that she's not looking at me. She's looking out into the driveway and woods beyond. Her eyes are moving back and forth like she's looking for something. Her body is tense, and it’s obvious she's stressed out about something.

  Oliver lets out a soft whine and wiggles a little bit, doing his best to resist the urge to jump up and run to her. I know it must be a struggle for the big guy – he really likes Katie. Her eyes fall on him and her expression immediately changes. The darkness etched upon her face lifts, and when she greets him, her smile is as wide and bright as the sun.

  Katie kneels down and opens her arms for Oliver, who quickly bolts over to her. He covers her face in kisses and leans against her, his tail wildly swinging back and forth. It's funny to me that she seems to have taken so well to him, given how terrified she was at first. But, the two seem to have bonded, which is good.

  I also knew that bringing him might be a good icebreaker, given the fact I knew I'd be getting a pretty frosty reception. Manipulative? Yeah, maybe a little bit. But, at least there’s good intentions behind it.

  She's in nothing but yoga pants, an oversized t-shirt, and socks. Her hair is a wreck – sticking out a hundred different ways – and she's not wearing any makeup. Yet, despite that, she's still breathtakingly beautiful. Her cool, alabaster skin is smooth and flawless, her brown eyes warm and bottomless. She's an absolutely stunning woman, and I don't think she even knows it. She's a lot like Maddy that way.

  Katie gets back to her feet but continues scratching Oliver behind the ears. Her gaze returns to me, and I notice her expression has softened slightly. It's not much, but it's a start. I can work with it.

  “Come in,” she says, even though there's a bit of reluctance in her voice.

  I follow Katie in, and she closes the door behind us, throwing the half a dozen locks on it, and my mind immediately flashes to the unset alarm in the house the night Maddy was killed. If only Maddy had – I immediately push those thoughts away. I'm not going to dwell on that right now. I'm here to make things right with Katie. There will be plenty of time to wallow in my misery later.

  “Wow,” I say. “You take home security pretty seriously.”

  I meant it as a joke, but Katie glares at me as she walks by, and takes a seat on the couch. She grabs the remote and turns the TV off, plunging the room into silence. Not knowing if an invitation to sit is coming or not, I decide to seat myself.

  Taking a seat at the other end of the couch, I set the bag on the table and start digging everything out.

  “Croissants and danishes,” I say. “Bagels with cream cheese and lox. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I figured I'd just give you a variety to choose from.”

  A small smile touches the corners of her mouth, and she stands up. “I'll get some plates and napkins,” she says. “I just put on a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”

  “I'd love some, thank you,” I say. “Black, please.”

  As she goes to the kitchen – Oliver following close behind her – I lay everything out and get it all ready. I can feel the tension that has been saturating the air since she first opened the door finally starting to dissipate. If only a little. At least it's something, though.

  Finished setting everything out, I glance over at her spot on the couch and notice the handle of what looks like a butcher knife poking out from beneath the cushion. I reach over and slide it out, seeing that it is indeed a butcher knife. A big one. Why would she stash a knife under the couch cushion? The knife and her demeanor at the door both tell me that something's very wrong here. She's clearly afraid of something. But, what?

  I slide the knife back into its spot and sit back when I hear Oliver panting excitedly a
s he follows Katie back into the room. He plops down on the floor beside her as she sits down on the couch, putting a tray on the coffee table in front of her. On the tray are two mugs, a pot of coffee, and a bottle of flavored creamer. There is also a small plate with some peanut butter crackers on it.

  She looks over at me. “I assume peanut butter crackers are okay for him?” she asks. “Dogs usually love peanut butter.”

  “Yeah, that's great,” I say. “I'm sure he won't object to a few treats. Thank you.”

  She tosses him a cracker, and Oliver snatches it mid-air, munching away happily. The quickest way to my boy's heart is through his stomach, that's for sure. She throws him another cracker, and Oliver quickly chomps it down, looking to her for another before he's even finished swallowing that one.

  “You're gonna have to slow down, mister,” Katie says and laughs.

  She hands me a cup of coffee and then starts fixing her own, pouring in a healthy dose of the creamer into her mug. She sets her mug down and surveys the spread on the table before her, finally picking up a cheese and cherry danish, and putting it on her plate.

  “Thank you for this,” she says. “I'm actually really hungry. I haven't gone out yet today.”

  “You're welcome,” I reply, taking a bite of my bagel. “I thought it might be nice to bring you a picnic instead this time.”

  Her smile is warm but hesitant. Which is a lot better than the scowl from earlier.

  Honestly, I was surprised to find a place in Ashton Mill that actually had fresh lox. I was more than a little skeptical at first. But, the flavor explodes in my mouth, and I’m very pleasantly surprised. Perhaps I've judged this place a little too harshly, and it's not the backwater town I thought it was.

  We eat for a few minutes, the silence between us strained and pronounced. I know she's waiting for me to say something, but I'm having a hard time coming up with the words. I have no script. No real plan. Although I expected her to be, I foolishly hoped she wouldn't be as pissed as I thought she'd be. That stupid dream was dashed the moment I saw her face in the doorway. So now, I'm just going to have to wing it – and I'm off to a very poor start.

  I set my plate down and clear my throat. It's time to address the elephant in the room. It's what I came here for. Katie idly tosses another cracker to Oliver who snaps it up happily.

  “I think he's going to like you better than me before we leave today,” I say and chuckle.

  She smiles politely, but it doesn't reach her eyes. My gaze is drawn to the handle of the butcher knife between the cushions again – though, she's managed to slide it back even farther, so only the butt end of the blade is visible. I'm curious, though, and want to ask her about it, but know I should wait.

  At least, for now.

  “So, anyway,” I say. “About what happened between us –”

  “Don't worry about it,” she says, her voice sharp. “It happened. It was great. We had a good time. But, you don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.”

  Though her voice is strong and confident, I can hear the hurt behind her words. She's projecting an image of strength. Toughness. She's trying to appear unaffected by it all. I can tell though, she's not the kind to casually sleep around. What happened between us surprised her every bit as much as it had me.

  Which must have made the aftermath of it incredibly painful for her.

  “I do though,” I say. “I – I owe you an apology for the way I handled things, and for not contacting you –”

  She shakes her head. “You don't,” she says. “I'm a big girl and –”

  I hold up my hand and let out a frustrated breath. “Can you let me finish?”

  She falls silent and looks down at the pastry on the plate in her lap. She won't meet my eyes and the tension radiating from her is like heat off the sun. Oliver, sensing the shift in mood, whines softly, and Katie tosses him another cracker. It hits the floor at his feet, and he continues staring at us, completely ignoring the treat.

  “I'm sorry,” I say. “I didn't mean to snap at you.”

  “I – it's fine,” she says.

  I can tell it's anything but, though. Yeah, this is going well. I hurt her once already, and I just keep piling it on. Way to go.

  “It's not fine,” I say. “And the way we left things the last time we saw each other isn't fine either. Stop being so damn agreeable.”

  The words fell out of my mouth before I'd even had a chance to think about them. I feel my eyes widen slightly, and the apology is already forming on my lips when Katie finally looks up at me. Her jaw is clenched and a fire is burning in her eyes I haven’t seen before. I can’t say it’s a bad thing, though. She should be more aggressive and stand up for herself. I hate that I pushed her to this point, but in a way, I'm glad. I'm glad to see that maybe, just maybe, she'll start standing up for herself – with guys like her ex, with Leon. Hell, even with me.

  “You know what? You're right. It's not fine. I'm pretty far from fine, actually,” she growls. “You made me feel like trash, Aidan. You were done, so you threw me out. Like I didn't matter. And I've had a month to do nothing but stew about it. So yeah, I'm pissed. More than pissed at you. You’re an arrogant asshole.”

  I know she needs to get this out, so I let her speak. I just sit back and letting her swing away, taking her best shots as she delivers them. It's okay, I can take it. Katie needs to vent.

  “I don't do things like that, Aidan,” she says. “I don't sleep around. I don't know why I did it. I just – I just got carried away or something. And then to have you treat me like that – like some random hookup you can't wait to get rid of – it hurt.”

  “I know,” I say softly and nod.

  “It hurt a lot, actually. And it pissed me off,” she says, her voice gaining even more heat. “I mean, who in the hell do you think you are? Why do you think you can treat women like that? I actually thought you were one of the good guys. A nice guy. Turns out, you’re the kind of asshole who uses women to get their rocks off, and then throws them away when they're done with them, regardless of their feelings. To me, that makes you the worst kind of asshole.”

  She opens her mouth again but says nothing else. She seems to be running out of steam. Katie falls silent and looks down, picking at the corners of her half-eaten danish. I wait a few moments for her to go on, but she seems finished.

  “I understand why you'd feel that way –”

  “Wow. That's big of you,” she snipes.

  “It's not what you think, though,” I say. “If it really was a case of me just trying to get rid of you, would I be here right now? Would I be sitting here, offering an apology and an explanation? Believe me, I don't explain myself to very many people.”

  She looks at me with uncertainty in her eyes as she nibbles on her bottom lip. I can tell that she wants to believe me – at least, in part – but is having trouble with it. I imagine it's because of that darkness I see in her. The past she doesn't want to talk about.

  Which also makes me wonder about the knife again.

  “The truth is, you're the first woman I've been with in a long time, Katie,” I say. “My fiancée – died –three years ago and I haven't been with anybody since. So, when we had sex, I sort of freaked out about it. I was fucked up about it. That's not your fault. That's on me. I dumped all my shit on you, and I know that's not right. It wasn't that I wanted to get rid of you, or that I'd gotten my rocks off and was done with you – I just kind of had a mini-meltdown in my own head. And I know I handled it poorly. So, I'm sorry about that.”

  I see her eyes widen as a stricken look crosses her face. I know that’s probably not anywhere close to what she expected to hear.

  “Oh god, Aidan,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I am so sorry. I didn't know about your fiancée. I'm so sorry.”

  I shrug. “How could you have?” I say. “Not like we know each other that deeply, and it's not like I talked about it. I just let myself get caught up in that moment with
you and one thing led to another, and – I didn't plan out what happened between us. It was just – it just happened.”

  The minute I see a flash of pain in her eyes, I know what I just said came out wrong. I'm doing a fantastic job of stuffing my own feet in my mouth today. It's alien to me because I'm usually very confident in whatever it is I'm saying. I never second guess myself. It would be fatal in my line of business to have this many crippling self-doubts. I am used to making a decision and going with it. If something goes sideways, I fix it. I don't spend time dwelling on it, nor do I ever need to explain my motives.

  Yet, sitting there looking into Katie's wide, beautiful eyes, I find myself scrutinizing every word coming out of my mouth. I find myself carefully considering everything I say before I say it – and I'm still fucking it all up. This is why I don’t like to deal with emotions. Why I prefer logic and reason. Emotions tend to get messy. Complicated. Nothing is ever simple.

  “Not that I regret what happened between us, Katie,” I add quickly. “I don't. Not for a minute. I just didn't expect it. What we shared though, was intense. It was pretty amazing, actually.”

  A soft smile touches her lips and she looks away from me, color rising in her cheeks. Katie looks so sweet. So delicate. So vulnerable. There's just something about her I find massively appealing – that draws me to her. Something I find utterly intoxicating. I don't know what it is, but the connection between us is real.

  And it scares the living hell out of me.

  “It was my own shit that made me pull back like that. It had nothing to do with you,” I say. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like that. You deserve better.”

  She looks up at me, and her eyes are shimmering. She's fighting hard, but loses the battle when one lone tear rolls down her soft cheek. I know that she's dealing with a lot of baggage and emotions that probably have nothing to do with me. But, I also know that I only made her burden that much worse with what I did.

  Obviously, what happened between us – specifically, the aftermath of it – triggered a lot of things inside of her. It seems to have brought a lot of negative emotions to the surface. Which makes me even more intensely curious about her story. About her.