Alex (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 3)

by Hope Hitchens

  I could think of a million different ways that I could have taken the test and told Alex the results, none of them ending in the conversation we had had. Was this the right time to be mad at Alex? Probably not, but he wasn’t doing himself any favors blowing up like that.

  What if I was pregnant? Was it over then? Would he dump me? What if Cassie’s child was his too?

  I couldn’t see him parenting one child, let alone two. If it came down to it, would I have to make him choose? I wouldn’t.

  I’d make the decision for him.

  21

  Alexander

  Mom was a mess.

  Yesterday had been a bad day. A very bad day.

  She wasn’t outside or taking part in any of the activities. She was in her room. I found her on the couch. The television was on; an old episode of Saturday Night Live on DVD or something. Their entertainment options were age appropriate. It was a season when Ellen Cleghorne and David Spade were cast members. She recognized me when I went to see her, which was good; she was at least a little lucid. Everything seemed to be fine until I told her that Liv said hello.

  Then she got mad.

  She asked me Liv who? The dirty Sanger girl? Iris’s sister? The girl I loved, the one I had been bringing round to see her lately? Yeah, that one. She really lost it then. Of all the things Mom can usually remember, she had to remember this the clearest? She forgot her grandkids, her own kids, Colin’s marriage, my injury, but this? She had all the facts. She was mad like it was happening right then. She was mad like it was five years ago.

  Her anger was understandable, but she was directing it at the wrong Sanger sister. Iris was the one she should have been mad at. Iris, not Liv. Olivia was completely innocent.

  When Iris had told me what she was planning on doing, I didn’t believe her at first. I thought it was her word against mine. I didn’t fucking do anything. I didn’t. I thought there was no way she would do it, but then she told her parents. Telling Liv would be one thing, but telling her parents? She was really committing to the bullshit. Her ship was sinking, and she was determined to take someone down with her. She decided that someone would be me.

  Her father had ended up coming to the house to talk to my mom, and I swear to God I thought I was being Punk’d. Watching someone say something that’s false with complete conviction is the scariest thing in the world. I don’t know how graphic Iris went with her story, but he was fucking mad. Mom looked at me like she didn’t know who I was. Mr. Sanger threatened legal action if I went near either of his daughters again.

  I—let’s face it—had no idea what that meant, but I knew it was bad. The thing that scared me the most was if I had to register as a sex offender wherever I lived. I tried to talk to them, and that went just about as well as you can imagine the talk between some parents and the kid they thought attacked their daughter could go.

  So, I did the stupidest thing, which at the time felt like the only thing. I gave up. The next time I saw Liv, which was the last time since seeing her again, I told her I didn’t want her anymore. I told her she wasn’t the kind of girl that I liked, that she was too nice, she was frigid; all these lies. They worked because that summer was the worst summer of my life.

  The summer that I had ended up leaving… first of all, I ended up leaving a lot sooner than I had originally intended. I didn’t want to stay in Sacramento longer than I had to. I was ready to go to Davis—where Liv had ended up going. It was so close—thirty or forty miles. We could have lived at home if we wanted. I ended up at the University of Maine and hadn’t been back since a couple of months ago.

  That summer I was blasted on something most of the time. A lot of weed, alcohol… other things in the schedule one drug category. I worked out a lot because it kept my mind off things, but I wasn’t eating enough to put any weight on, and hardly enough even to maintain. I showed up for college somehow shredded and in the worst shape of my life at the same time.

  It was torture. I never tried to get in contact with her because I was mad. It was easier to be mad than it was to be sad, and that was what I was, what I chose to be. When I was sad, I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to think, or train or talk to anyone. Anger; you can do something with anger. You can crush that rage into a diamond, or at least hours at the gym, or on the field.

  I was scared too. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t.

  I was done with the fourth chandelier. I had been trying to get to Liv all day; she had been stubbornly unavailable. Ignoring me, or just busy. There was a chance that was it. After the test yesterday, I had no fucking idea what to think.

  It was a baby, but it was with Liv. I should have felt better about this. I didn’t want kids, but if it was with her… I couldn’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about it. I had. She’d be a great mom. She’d make sure the kid grew up to be a real person, and I’d… I don’t know, bring home the bacon? Have sex with her when she was horny. Would she even want me around, need me around?

  All I was giving her was… shit, it was probably just Cassie’s kid. All I had to bring to the table was another woman’s child. She loved me; maybe that was enough for her to keep me around. I didn’t want to lose her behind this. I couldn’t help losing her the first time, but doing it again… how would I come back from that?

  I had to talk to her. She wasn’t picking my calls up; what were the chances she was at her house? What did preschool teachers do on Friday nights?

  I heard a knock at my door. I was in my room. It was after work. There was only one person it could possibly be. Who had the keys, but me? Why wasn’t she at work or something? I sat on my bed and waited. She knocked again. I told her to come in. She opened the door slowly and peeked inside like she was scared of coming in.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “What do you want, Cassie?” I asked her.

  “I don’t really see you around the house much,” she said. True. No lies there. I had been avoiding the house as much as possible, holing up in the garage or going over to Liv’s. I didn’t know how long it took to find a house, but it was taking Cassie forever. I didn’t need her getting comfortable, coming to me one day and asking whether she could arrange some sort of agreement.

  “Did you need something?” I asked impatiently. What was the point of her visit? If it was to ask me where I had been when I wasn’t here, I didn’t owe her an explanation.

  “I went to the hospital today,” she said. She said it with that tone people use when they want you to ask them what happened next. She had gone to the hospital; it obviously wasn’t for gallstones.

  “Mm-hmm.” And then what? Was it fun? Was there more to this? I felt like she was going to launch into a story about how she saw Gary from high school there, and he’d had a sex change or something.

  “I’m at right about six or seven weeks,” she said, smiling, holding her stomach. “At the next appointment, twelve weeks, they’ll tell me the sex.”

  I said nothing to that. I had nothing to say. Did they also tell you who the father is? She looked really happy about it. I tried a smile, for her sake.

  “That’s great,” I said. It came out flat. If she was happy about it, great. I didn’t have to be.

  “Do you want to see a picture?” she asked.

  “No, that’s fine,” I said as she got her phone out and started looking for the image. “Really Cassie, I don’t-”

  “Here,” she said, brandishing her phone at me and sitting down at my side. On the screen was a grainy greyscale image of something that looked like something people tell you lives in the sea, but you’ve never seen one yourself. It had a huge head, and I couldn’t really make the rest out. Her baby. Hers. Not ours.

  “He or she is healthy. I hope it’s a girl, but it’s too early to tell. They should be born in September. September fifteenth is the tentative due date.”

  “That’s great,” I told her. Her hand was on my thigh as she showed me the picture. I tried to move it away, but she grabbed it.
<
br />   “Are you happy?” she asked. Shit. She was really hanging on tight to this delusion of hers. There was nothing wrong with being excited about having a kid, but she needed to understand that I couldn’t mirror her excitement.

  “Cassie. We still don’t know whose kid that is,” I said, as gently as I could. She let go of my hand.

  “I told you, Alex-”

  “You can tell me all you want, Cass; I won’t believe the kid’s mine unless you can prove it to me.”

  I got up, leaving her on the bed.

  “It’s yours. You’ve been here in Sacramento close to two months now. When you got here, when we met at the hospital, Travis and I were on a break.”

  “The person you need to tell all this to is the other guy—your other guy. Not me, and not Travis. I’m sick of this, Cassie. I won’t kick you out, but I’m not the one. And you know what, I think you know it isn’t mine. You’re in a position where you can pick and choose who you want to be the father of your child, and that’s what you’re doing.”

  “How could you say that to me?” she asked, more angry than sad.

  “Why are you doing this to me? There’s some shit you just don’t do, Cass. Keeping a guy’s kid from him is one of them. If the kid is born, and it is mine, I’ll pay your fucking child support, whatever, I don’t care. Right now, you can’t do this to me.”

  I went downstairs to the garage. There had to be something I could do down there. Cassie had never tried to follow me in. She probably thought it was my man cave or something. I was still in the clothes I’d worn to work. We had to wear leather smith aprons there, so my clothes weren’t that sooty or fucked up, but I didn’t bother when I was at home. I fired up the forge gas, so it was hot enough and ready to go in minutes.

  There was a Bowie I had started on a while ago that was still waiting on a heat treat. I looked at it. I didn’t use any of the blades I made for anything practical, but I liked them to look like they could cut or kill if they were required to do so. The blade was thick. It could do with a little more hammering out to flatten it. I slid it into the fire and reached for my hammer.

  My phone started vibrating against my leg in my pocket. I ignored it till it stopped, but then it started up again. I picked the phone up, not checking who it was on the other end of the line.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I’m, I’m sorry, this must be a bad time,” Olivia stuttered.

  “Oh, shit, Liv. I’m sorry. I just… what’s up?” I asked, rubbing my hand over my eyes.

  “I just… I was just calling to tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I’m not pregnant.”

  I blinked.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’m not pregnant.”

  “The test was negative?”

  “I didn’t need to take it. I got my period this morning. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

  She wasn’t pregnant. That was good news. It was more than that, this was great.

  “That’s… how do you feel?” I asked her.

  “Fine. No different than usual. Took a couple of Midol, fired up the heating pad if that’s what you mean. I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

  “I’m-” I balked. What was I? I didn’t want a kid but… did she? I didn’t even think of that. She’d said she wasn’t trying to get pregnant or anything, but it hadn’t been a hard enough no to rule it out completely. If she was pregnant, it would be growing inside of her; maybe she would become attached and want to keep it. I didn’t have to be pregnant to get a kid. Hell, I lost millions of kids every time I busted a nut.

  “You’re what?” she asked. I hadn’t answered her.

  “How do you feel? Did you want the kid? Like would you… do you want one?”

  She sighed.

  “I don’t know, Lex. I’m not having one now.”

  “But do you want to?”

  She sighed some more. It wasn’t late, but she was probably tired. That was her pattern. She’d never have to tell me it was shark week because she’d be drowsy all the time. She wouldn’t let me touch her either; she thought I thought it was gross. I didn’t. There were grosser things. If she really wanted to… let’s just say a real warrior isn’t afraid to get a little blood on his sword.

  “I mean, I’ve thought about it. It wouldn’t be the worst thing… having your baby.”

  I paused and waited to feel something. Shock, or anger. Anything. I felt satisfaction. She wanted to have my baby. That sounded… shit, it sounded kind of great. She wanted my babies.

  “Horse before the cart, babe?” I teased. “We haven’t even moved in together yet.”

  “We’re not strangers, Lex. I’ve had years to think about this stuff.”

  “You said we’re starting over. If we are, then I think you’re rushing,” I joked. She laughed. “Guys don’t like that clingy, aggressive shit, Olivia. At least let a guy ask you to marry him first.”

  “Why don’t you hurry up and ask me then,” she said. I didn’t know whether she was kidding or not.

  “Without your parent’s approval, we’ll be doomed to failure.”

  “I wanted to ask you; I think we should go see them. I have a lot of questions. If we’re all together at the same time, we can clear the air.”

  Olivia’s dad was that guy who looked like he hadn’t cracked a smile since the last century. He was stern. He had always been. He always looked at me in a way that made me feel sort of gross—like he saw right through me. Like he knew what I would do with his daughter behind closed doors. Like he knew that whenever she came over to my house, I’d inevitably end up with my tongue between her thighs. Her mother had almost liked me, but I didn’t think the split was taken particularly hard by either of them.

  She had a point though. If we really were starting over, they needed to know. There were a few things Liv needed to know too. I sighed and checked my blade. Not yet hot enough.

  “When should we go?” I asked.

  “Sunday?” she suggested.

  “I’ll be there.”

  22

  Olivia

  How did you tell your guileless, sweet, four-year-old nephew that his mother had done something unforgivable? At the house, when I picked Hayden up, she didn’t try to say anything to me beyond the regular, expected, polite hello. It had not been that long since I had last seen her, but the difference in her bump was pretty significant. She had nearly a whole trimester left. I didn’t make conversation. I took the kid and left. She had tried to suggest that I spend the afternoon with Hayden in the house, but I couldn’t.

  It wasn’t time yet. There would eventually be a time when I would look at Iris and not feel so disappointed, but it wasn’t just then. It didn’t have to be, and it didn’t have to be tomorrow either. Luckily, she thought—like me—that Hayden shouldn’t have to suffer because of whatever was going on between us. He was really curious. I couldn’t tell him, obviously; that wasn’t something you told to a child.

  I had thought we could go to the house; maybe he’d play with the cat. James had been asking me to help with President Bartlett. Apparently, it would help him get comfortable having someone new in the house if he associated me with good things. I had started leaving my door open to stop his incessant attempts to get in when I would close it. He did this thing where he would try and jump into my lap when I did my makeup at my vanity. Have you ever had twenty pounds of mass dropped into your lap?

  “Aunt Olivia, where do you live now?” Hayden asked me.

  “I live in the city now, downtown,” I told him.

  “Is that far away?”

  “Not too far to come visit my favorite nephew.”

  I was the aunt who let him eat the stuff his mother and Rick didn’t. My favorite thing to eat was high fructose corn syrup; I didn’t have a leg to stand on telling him to eat healthy when I didn’t. I wouldn’t let him clear a whole pint of ice cream on his own, but if he wanted an ice cream cone after already having had a big milkshake, I d
idn’t see the problem with that.

  Alex was supposed to meet me—us—because Hayden was there and we were going to my parent’s place after. People with kids were probably the only people who sat at restaurants to eat. I chose the place because kids under ten ate for free. Robbi had recommended me. She had told me when I finally picked up a call from her after the pregnancy test debacle. She’d been dying to find out like it was our baby together, she and I.

  “Hey, sugar,” I heard someone say. I felt a hand on the back of my neck. Alex kissed me before sitting in his seat next to mine. Hayden was sat opposite me.

  “Hey, I was afraid we were going to have to order for you. Hayden, say hi. This is my boyfriend, Alex.”

  “Uncle Alex,” Alex said. Hayden gave Alex a wave because his mouth was occupied, drinking his strawberry milkshake as fast as he could because he wanted another one.

  Alex looked at Hayden. He was four and some change but had the round, full cheeks of an eighteen-month-old. He had round eyes and curly light brown hair. He was pretty, almost.

  “That’s him, huh?” he remarked. “Obviously once he was born, nobody would believe he could have come from me.”

  “I don’t think it’s that much of a stretch,” I said, looking at my nephew.

  “I don’t see it.”

  “That you got someone pregnant, not that this was the end result,” I said. He smirked.

  It wasn’t too soon. Baby jokes were still a little funny to him, so he wasn’t taking Cassie’s pregnancy as hard as I would have in his position, and he didn’t seem to be upset about our own child that we had been expecting for about twelve hours.

  “We don’t know that yet,” he said lightly. He was in a good mood today. I didn’t know whether that was a good thing. It was, in a way, because we were going to see my parents, but it wasn’t, because if he was in a good mood now, he wouldn’t be after we had gone to see them.

  I had called to ask them when we—both of us—could come, so they couldn’t say they didn’t have any warning. Whenever I talked to my mother, she used this tone like I was full of shit and she wasn’t buying what I was trying to sell her. She would do it all the time when I was younger, trying to tell her how Iris did something bitchy to me. She’d just nod and make me feel like she was listening, before basically telling me that I was completely wrong, and I was grounded.