Bailey gasped lightly. “He did that? I’ll have to find a way to repay him.” Touched by Lucas’s kindness, she wiped away more tears. “He hasn’t called me. I guess it’s for the best. Granted, I still feel it was wrong of him to do what he did, but I understand that he was using the only method he knew to get what he wanted. Making deals, it’s what he’s good at, what he succeeds at. Of course he’d use his money, power, and persuasion.” She stopped trying to clear the tears away. It was useless. They’d become torrential at this point. She grabbed a tissue from the box on her nightstand to blow her nose. As an attempt to change the subject, she asked, “When do you start on your tour?”
“I’m in New York now and will be here for the next couple of days, followed by L.A., and ending in Vegas. It seems surreal. I still can’t believe I won. Lu ...”
“It’s okay, go on.”
“As my sponsor, Lucas’s company has spared no expense. He had Kara set me up in the Grant Royal suites. Kara said Lucas is BFFs with Sean Grant, the man himself! Can you believe that? I also have a car and driver at my disposal. Lucas has been great. He even tried to make amends with Kevin for the K.O. He didn’t want you to be upset with him over it. Kevin wasn’t having it.”
Bailey frowned. “The what? Did you say K.O.? Knock out?” Alarmed, her spine stiffened into a tight column.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Sienna muttered.
“Sienna, what did Lucas do to Kevin?”
“Before you go off, in fairness to Lucas, Kevin provoked him. He was getting in Lucas’s face, taunting him over the fact that he knew where you’d gone off to, but he wouldn’t tell Lucas.”
Feeling guilty, Bailey exhaled heavily. “I didn’t want anyone to know at the time. I’m sorry about that. Sounds like whatever happened was also my fault.”
“It’s okay. Anyway, Lucas and I came back to the apartment to talk to you. Kevin opened his door when he heard us outside. He gave Lucas back the jewelry and then started in on him. I’m not sure what Lucas said that set Kevin off. I asked them both, but neither would say. All I know is Lucas whispered something to Kevin that, I swear, Bails, Kevin’s eyes turned black as coal. Before I knew what was happening, Kevin swung on Lucas, but Lucas blocked the punch and delivered two solid rights, boxing style, that sent Kevin airborne. Kevin was knocked out cold, but he quickly came around.”
Bailey gasped. “Oh my God! Is Kevin okay?”
“His pride is still bruised, but the black-and-blue bruise under his left eye is fully healed.”
Astounded, Bailey shook her head. “I can’t believe Lucas hit him.”
“Honestly, Kevin made the first move. Your boy Lucas got skills.” Sienna cleared her throat at the awkward silence that once again followed. “It’s so good to hear your voice, chica. Are you coming back?”
“Well, I lost my job at Callaghan’s. Again, stupid move on my part to leave the way that I did.”
“You know I got you until you can find another one.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Sie. Not again.”
“You didn’t ask before nor this time. I’m offering. I’ll be away. You can have the place all to yourself if you need space to work through the whatever.”
“Thanks. I don’t intend on staying here, that’s for sure. I think I’ve outgrown my hometown. I miss the Metrorail, us hopping over to Adams Morgan, and the clubs in Georgetown. Oooh, and the tapas restaurants.”
“I miss us hanging out, too. Well, home is here when you’re ready. Thanks for forgiving me. I thought I’d lost my best friend.”
“Never. Sisters forever,” Bailey assured her.
“I better get off to get some rest. Tell your parents I said hello and also that hottie brother of yours.”
Bailey chuckled. “Will do. Enjoy your tour.”
“Oh, by the way, Faith called me. She left a message that only said that she’d decided to return home to try to work things out with her father. He’d kicked her out upon discovering that she’d gotten back with Dale, that and something about some money being stolen, you know, the usual Faith soap opera. I texted her to let her know I’m here if she wants to talk. I haven’t heard from her since.”
Bailey’s forehead crinkled in annoyance. “Sienna, I’m going to need some time before I can get past this one. Though Faith apologized, she made a play for Lucas. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her for that.” She let out a deep breath to try to dispel the bitterness she still felt. “I’m glad you let her know that you would always be there for her. I really mean that.”
“Yeah, I don’t think she has anyone else to turn to, friends that truly get her, I mean. Well, I’ll say good night. Hope to see you when I return.”
“Okay. Good night.”
Bailey placed her phone on the nightstand, feeling a little better now that she’d spoken to Sienna. They were still best friends, and Sienna was starting out on her art expo tour. She couldn’t be happier for her.
She undressed, put on her robe, grabbed her pjs—T-shirt and boy shorts—and then pressed her ear to her bedroom door. There was only the muffled sound of the TV mixed with the faint voices of her mom and dad chatting in the living room. Satisfied that Marcel had left, she quietly left her room, walked down the hall past her brother’s room and into the bathroom that they shared. Caleb was out as usual. He’d show up well after everyone had gone to bed and would be off again before everyone woke up, off to who knows where.
Turning on the shower, she allowed it to steam up nice and hot before stepping in. Like each time before, the shower she shared with Lucas entered her mind. He supported her weight effortlessly with her pressed against the cool marble as he pumped in and out of her pussy until she thought she would faint from the mind-blinking pleasure. I can’t take this. She rapidly shook her head to push away the image, as well as the melancholy that accompanied the loss she felt.
Hurrying through her ablution, she shampooed her hair, soaped, rinsed from head to toe, stepped out, dried off, moisturized, braided her hair, and put on her pj’s, all in under fifteen minutes, wanting to be done with the task.
Back in her room, she flicked the light switch off on the wall, climbed in bed without thinking, and buried her head in her pillow, hoping that tonight she’d actually sleep through the night. That’s what it had become. She couldn’t eat, sleep, watch the television, shower, or do practically anything without thinking of Lucas. He’d become a part of her very being.
With the pregnancy test still in her satchel, she rolled to her back and placed her hand on her stomach, fearing Lucas had literally become a part of her. Shifting to her side, she fluffed up her pillow and tried her best to find a comfortable position, having had several restless nights, unable to shut her mind off. Every time her lids closed, Lucas’s face appeared, and with it, the agonizing pain of sadness in her chest.
A groan choked her up as the familiar nighttime tears came forth, escaped her eyes, and spilled over the bridge of her nose, disappearing into the fine hairs at her temple.
“I can’t get over you, Lucas,” she cried softly, squeezing her eyes shut with the heels of her hands pressed over her lids, drowning in deep despair. “What am I going to do?” Turning to her stomach, she sobbed quietly into her pillow, her heart aching excruciatingly for him with no way to stifle the pain.
There was a soft knock on the door. Quickly, Bailey wiped her face on the end of her T-shirt, rapidly fanned her face with her hands, blinked several times, hoping it helped to reduce the redness, swallowed deeply, and exhaled a breath before saying, “Come in.” Her mom entered and closed the door behind her. The lamp on the nightstand was turned on. Bailey brought the blanket up to nearly cover her head.
“You’re in bed early. It’s not even eight o’clock. I thought I’d check on you. With your father pushing poor Marcel at you, it’s a wonder you’re not in here packing. You picked at your dinner. I’ve noticed you haven’t been eating much since you got here.” The blanket was pulled away from Ba
iley’s face. “And I see you’ve been crying again.”
Again. Each night Bailey tried to keep her anguish confined to the center of her pillow. Evidently, nothing under this roof escaped her mom’s eye.
“I’m just tired.”
“Bailey Elaina Walters, you know I don’t like it when you and your brother speak untruths.”
Her mom didn’t like to use the word lie, preferring words like untruth, falsehood, and even tall tale. “Sorry.” She sat up and hugged her legs at her chest with her chin resting on the top of her knees.
“Sweetheart. We’ve always been able to talk. That hasn’t changed.”
Her solemn eyes closed as her mom fingered several unruly curly strands of hair out of her eyes that only fell back in her face. “I know.” She pressed her forehead at her knees and sighed long. “I’m dealing with something right now, that’s all.”
“I gathered that the moment you unexpectedly crossed the doorstep several weeks ago.” The hairbrush was retrieved from the dressing table. “Scooch up.” Her mom sat sideways behind her and undid her braid to brush out the tangles. As she began the task, she remarked, “Your troubles involve a man, I take it.”
Bailey understood she wasn’t asking a question. “His name is Lucas.” Her tears returned, and her mom handed her several tissues from the box on the nightstand. She blew her nose, then said, “He did something that hurt me. I got scared.”
The brush stilled. Her mom looked at her with concern. “Was he physically abusive?”
“No.” Getting a worried stare, Bailey assured her, “Honest.”
“Was he unfaithful?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Well, then it’s fixable.”
“I messed things up, and I know that it can’t be fixed. I’m just having trouble getting over him,” she explained as she dried her eyes with another tissue.
“Maybe there’s a reason why you cannot let go so readily.”
“What do you mean?” She attempted a look over her shoulder, but her mom nudged her head forward so as not to ruin the braid she was working on. “Mom?”
“Perhaps there’s still a chance to make amends.”
“I don’t believe so. I’m afraid to call him. He probably won’t answer anyway if he sees that it’s me calling. He hasn’t called or texted me. That pretty much confirms it. I can’t blame him. I allowed my fears of getting hurt to dictate my actions.”
Coming within a couple of inches to the end of the braid, her mom brushed the strands smooth and then secured them with the hair band.
“You got out of the relationship to protect your heart. That’s interesting.”
“Something liked that.” With an expressed exhale, her mom got up, and Bailey slid down underneath the covers.
“Yet your heart breaks over not having him.”
“Yes.” She sobbed and was handed another tissue. “I’m sure it’s over. If ... if you knew him, you’d agree. Trust me, he ... he made it clear when we last spoke,” she said through choked tears.
“If you look for people to disappoint you, you’ll never be disappointed,” her mom stated as she straightened the covers over her shoulders.
“What does that mean?” Bailey hated when her mom spoke in idioms. She’d grown up trying to decipher sayings. Yet, she found herself doing it at times and would likely speak that way to her own child. Geez, she inwardly groaned, thinking of the pregnancy test hidden in her closet.
“There’s a fine line between having a problem and creating one.”
Growing annoyed, she exhaled, “Mom, please, what are you saying?”
“What I’m saying is love hurts sometimes. It gets messy and complicated.” With a kiss upon her forehead and a palm of her cheek, her mom added, “Don’t be afraid of a little conflict and uncertainty. If you care for one another and work together, it will make your relationship stronger. Now I’ll let you rest. You need it during this time.”
“Huh?”
Her mom turned off the lamp, and her silhouette moved quietly to the door. “Let poor Marcel down gently, dear.”
“It’s Dad who’s pushing this.”
“I know. Enjoy the festival tomorrow, but don’t give the young man any hope that you’re interested in anything more. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” As the door closed, Bailey turned to her side facing the bay window, reflecting on their conversation. Tomorrow, she would take the pregnancy test and then call Lucas. Hopefully, the only thing of major importance to tell him would be her apology.
Chapter Thirty
“You forgive me, but you don’t want this ... us anymore?” Bailey couldn’t seem to get in enough air to her lungs. Looking up at his cold, steel-blue eyes, her knees buckled under her, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed before she crumbled to the floor.
“I think it’s what’s best for us both. Your time away gave me time to understand that we’re not right for each other,” Lucas said.
It was over, completely and unequivocally over between them. Her mom was wrong; Lucas didn’t want to reconcile.
“But I’m carrying your child.”
“That’s why I came when you called. I’ll always be there to care for my child.”
“You care nothing for me?” Bailey blinked to free the tears clouding her vision.
“You’re the mother to my child, but beyond that ...”
She hastily stood up and fell against his chest, burying her tear-soaked face against his shirt. Her hands gripped his arms tight, desperate to hold on to him. “I love you, Lucas. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. We can work through this,” she pleaded.
“It’s over.” Lucas dislodged her from his frame and opened her bedroom door. “Have a nice life.”
“No! Don’t leave! Lucas, please!” She fell to her knees, sobbing, begging as he walked out of her life forever.
Bailey shot straight up in bed, her eyes blurry from both sweat and tears. She quickly turned on the lamp on the nightstand and scanned her bedroom in search of Lucas. Sweat soaked the fine hairs around her face and neck. Her heart raced violently. Her breathing was quick to near hyperventilating, and she needed to take deep, even breaths to calm her pulse. When she managed to stop gulping for air, she left her bed to change out of her sweaty T-shirt and shorts that clung to her skin. Returning to the bed, she sat on the side edge and recalled her nightmare that felt so stunningly real. Her mind tried to convince her that it was simply a dream. Heaven help me.
She brushed the wild, wet strands of hair out of her eyes and rubbed her hand over her chest at her heart where the pain could still be felt. It’s official, I’m certifiable. She would swear all of it was real. Lucas stood before her cold and apathetic as though they were strangers. Even after she told him she was carrying his child, he showed not an ounce of feeling for her. That part of the nightmare had her rushing to her closet. Pregnancy stick in hand, she left her room and padded quietly over the carpet to the bathroom.
With only the nightlight illuminating inside, a splash of cold water on her face helped to relax and center her nerves. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she told herself, Take the test. No more stalling.
Having followed the instructions to the letter, she now sat on the closed toilet lid waiting to see which direction would be her future. The time had long since passed to view the results, but she waited a good twenty minutes longer before she brought the stick close to the nightlight. As she studied the plus symbol in the small round hole of the stick, for a moment, she wondered if she was actually still in the dream.
The urge to throw up, mainly from shock, grabbed hold, and she hastily dropped to her knees, swung up the lid, and emptied the little contents she had in her stomach. Closing the lid, she flushed, pulled herself up, moved back to the sink to splash more cold water on her face, and brushed her teeth, followed by her resuming her seat on the lid, not sure what to do next.
Her life was spiraling out of control. What was she going to d
o? How was she to raise a baby on her own and without a job? Abortion? A constricting ache of a strange kind of loss pained her chest. No. With that said, she’d have to find a reputable pediatrician. How do you even do that? And she’d need a reliable babysitter, one who worked nights—she’d need to keep her job at Nuagé. Huggies or Pampers? Studies suggest breast milk is better. Minutes ticked by with her sitting there as thousands of thoughts rattled her brain on what she was now faced with ... alone.
With her head pounding and her stomach somersaulting, still deep in her own thoughts, she opened the bathroom door and took a step. “Oh!” She fell back against the wall with her stick flying from her hand, having collided straight into her brother’s massive, hard chest.
“Geez, Caleb.” On her knees in the dark, she ran her hands over the carpet in search of her pregnancy test stick. “You need to watch where you’re going.”
“You ran into me.” Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Caleb followed her crawling around in the dimly lit hallway. “What are you doing?”
“Shh, be quiet before you wake up Mom and Dad. I dropped something. Weren’t you going to the bathroom?”
“Mom might wake up, but you know that you can drop a grenade in here and Dad won’t budge. Here, let me get the light.”
“No!” Bailey shrieked at a whispered pitch as the hallway light flicked on bright, casting a spotlight on her pregnancy test stick sitting next to Caleb’s left foot. He picked it up, studied it, and then her. She snatched it from his hand.
Caleb gawked. “What the fu—”
“Shhh.” Bailey grabbed his wrist, dragged him down the hall to her room, pushed him in, and closed the door.
“Uh, does that symbol stands for what I think it does?” Caleb leaned back against the bedroom door with his arms folded at his chest. “I’m guessing it’s safe to say Mom and Dad don’t know.”
Looking up at his unblinking amber eyes trained on her, Bailey nervously chewed her bottom lip while shaking her head in answer.
She was the older sibling, but like everyone in her family, Caleb treated her as his baby sister. At twenty-two, he was about as tall as Lucas and just as big.
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