Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  “Baby,” he pleads. “Stop worrying about it getting taken. I won’t let that happen. We both knew this was the ending we wanted. I want you at all stages of life. Does this put a kink in all the things you want? Yes. Does it destroy the possibility of getting it? No. I have fears too. Every pregnancy you have from here on out will remind me that I missed the first one. Every time I hold my kid I’m going to know there is another one out there I’ve never met, but if you know I’m ‘it’ for you, then we can make this work. The pregnancy itself may have been an accident, Gab, but I’ve always known you were gonna be the girl I had kids with.”

  I look at him with fresh tears falling. “You’ve been ‘it’ for me since the night we met. If I couldn’t stop loving you after I watched you drive away, or when I found out you’d been back and didn’t tell me, or when you told me you fucked those two bimbos twenty-four hours after you fucked me, marrying you and having your baby sure as hell isn’t going to make me stop.” My shoulders fall in defeat. “I don’t care what my life looks like as long as I get to live it with you.”

  He kisses my wet cheeks. “One day, Gabby, five or ten years from now, we’re going to be living the best damn life someone could ask for while we flip off the world for doubting us. We’re going to prove that sometimes love is enough.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tight, knowing he’s right. This is what I have fought so hard for—us. Now I have him. The rest doesn’t matter. I wondered so many times during my pregnancy with Madden what it would be like if Maddox knew I was pregnant with his baby. Now I have my answer, and it’s devastatingly beautiful, but I think I knew it would be from the beginning. We love each other. It wasn’t a one-night stand, which is why it hurt so much worse to keep that secret from him and let our baby go. “So we’re going to do this? We’re going to have a baby?”

  “We’re going to have a baby,” he answers. “And this time when you give birth both of you will have my last name.”

  The one thing I couldn’t give Madden.

  I pull back and grab the door handle, forcing my emotions away. Riggan and Sayler have been standing at the front of her car waiting on us since we got here. “Let’s do this and go home, because the second we get there I’m jumping your bones.”

  He chuckles just before opening his door. He knows my crazy ass isn’t playing. When my emotions are high I want sex. It never fails. It’s a balancing act for me, and right now they’re at an all-time high, which means he’s getting laid and it’s going to be the kind of animalistic sex he is ashamed he likes, which is my favorite side of him. I want the saint to love me while the sinner fucks me. He may know how to make me cream, but I know how to make the angel on his shoulder disappear for a little while. No girl wants her man to bring purity to the pussy party.

  Thirty-Nine

  Maddox

  I pace back and forth in Sayler’s dad’s study as he removes the ‘birth control’ from her arm. I’m anxious, which is most likely because we had to wait for a while for him to get here. He got held up at the hospital in a trauma case. Car wreck victim that came in with extensive injuries; one being the hundreds of shards of glass to the face like shrapnel from the windshield, the other a punctured breast implant, among other things. At least her mom is out of town, which made things a little less awkward.

  During the wait I had time to think, which is never a good thing. The thought that’s currently looping on repeat is the fact that if she got pregnant on birth control, could it cause birth defects? What if it’s missing organs or something? Then there is the drinking. Gabby has had many occasions of alcohol binging since she arrived here. So have I. I wonder if it can alter my sperm. Surely not, because she’s fucking pregnant. My guess is they could swim straight enough to knock her up! How many times has she been drunk since she got pregnant? I vaguely remember talking about fetal alcohol syndrome in one of my classes in high school—health maybe. Argh! My mind is turning so fast I can’t keep up.

  I grab one of the shelves in the built-in bookcase, my other hand fisting in the front of my hair, tugging at the section of dark blond strands. Sayler’s dad’s back is to me, blocking my view of what he’s doing to her, so I couldn’t really see anything unless I was right beside them. Then I’d just be in the way, hovering and probably stressing out more. I don’t want to piss off a doctor. He’s doing us a favor.

  Blondie comes up beside me and touches my arm. “Maddox, are you okay?”

  I glance down at her. Her long, blonde hair is silky and straight and she’s dressed to the nines like she always is. Rarely does she dress in what most would consider casual clothes. Her makeup is done and her top is fitted enough to show she’s pregnant but not tight. “I’m fine.”

  Her brows dip. “Why would you lie to me?”

  I sigh. “Just a lot on my mind, I guess. Don’t take it personal.”

  “My dad is the best. Nothing will happen.”

  “That’s not what I was referring to.”

  “I know,” she says. “I just wanted to reassure you.”

  She stares at me, clearly wanting to ask me something. She’s a stark contrast from Gabby. Gabby would come right out and say whatever is on her mind. I never had to guess with her. Blondie will skate around it like she’s scared to pry. I smile at her. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Riggan filled me in on the way here.”

  I glance up at him over her head. He’s sitting on the couch leaned forward with a golf magazine in his hands, flipping through it. I almost laugh out. Riggan playing golf would be a sight—as out of place as a girl playing football with boys. “He did, did he?”

  “Don’t be mad at him,” she rushes out. “I asked.” Like I’m really surprised. I expected it considering she had to ask her dad to remove a birth control implant when he’s not that kind of doctor. An explanation is sort of warranted.

  “I’m not,” I assure her. “I would’ve been more surprised had he not.”

  “How are you doing with it?”

  There’s a double meaning to her question. “You mean because I already have a son out there I’ve never met?” She confirms it by not answering. “I don’t feel guilty if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Good. You shouldn’t. It’s okay to be happy if you want to be.”

  I exhale, knowing there’s been a dull ache in my heart since Gabby told me about him that I hide. She doesn’t need to know it hurts me every time I think about having a kid out there someone else is raising. I’m gonna be strong for her. I have it easy compared to what she lives with. “The truth is, there is nothing I can do about it. I didn’t know when it mattered. No court system is going to rip a kid that age out of a stable family, and I had enough good raising to know it’s not right.” I finally admit something out loud to someone else for the first time. I’ve been dealing with it alone for a while. “If I have to live without one or the other—only able to keep one—I’ll always choose her. We can have other kids. She’s something I can’t replicate.”

  Blondie smiles. “That’s one lucky baby. You’re going to be an awesome dad.”

  Some of those thoughts return. “Yeah, well, we have to get it here first. Then, maybe. I’m going to at least try.”

  “Dean—Warner McKenzie. You got a minute?” I look up at the sound of Sayler’s dad’s voice. He has a smartphone to his ear and a small metal medical type bowl in his hand, walking toward the door. “Let me get to my laptop.”

  He disappears outside, shutting the door behind him. My heart starts to race. I can feel Gabby staring at me from where she’s sitting. I smother the smile and pretend I don’t notice. She knows she doesn’t have to worry about Blondie and yet if she had laser vision, I’d have a hole in my skin. It gives her a little taste of the shit I have to go through every time her and Konnor joke around. You may trust someone one hundred percent, but that doesn’t make watching them with someone any easier.

  Possession is a turn-on for me. Every time she shows it, I’m
rock solid in a matter of seconds. She won’t spread for anyone else if all of her focus and fight are on me. She’s the only one I’ve experienced it with and it’s a two-way street with her.

  My brain catches up. “Who is Dean?” I ask Blondie, wondering if I should be worried something simple has turned into a phone call where he stepped out of the room.

  Her eyes squint like she’s thinking. “Isn’t there a Dean at that clinic we go to for your baby appointments?” Riggan interrupts, not looking up from the magazine like he’s into something interesting. “I thought I saw it on the sign. It’d make sense. A pussy and baby doctor are the same person, right? Birth control . . . Pussy doctor. Related categories.”

  “Oh yeah!” Blondie says like a lightbulb just went off in her head. “Dr. Dean Richardson. He looks around my dad’s age. At least it’s not the hot, young one—Dr. Sanders. Awkward.”

  Riggan finally peels his eyes away from the magazine page and looks at her. “The one you are not seeing again. If you’re calling him ‘hot’, one look between your legs was all he gets.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, like he hasn’t seen thousands of vaginas by now. They all look the same.”

  “No, they don’t,” he tells her.

  She looks at me. “Tell him.”

  I smirk, already shaking my head. “Sorry, Blondie, he’s right. The difference is in the details.”

  “Even though I’m the one that wanted to change to a female physician, if he’s on call when I go into labor there is nothing you can do about it.”

  “Is too,” Riggan says, matter of fact. “I will deliver her myself. Can’t be harder than catching a football.” His eyes veer to the crotch of her jeans and back. “Mine. Don’t forget it.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” she says, but the massive grin on her face says more than the very phrase coming out of her mouth.

  I make my way over to Gabby, who’s looking down at the Band-Aid on her arm. Hard to imagine that’s all it takes. She looks up at me, her dark eyes so telling. I smirk. “Breathe before your ears start steaming.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she returns.

  I lift her clenched fist off her thigh and bring it to eye level, tapping it with a finger to confirm how tight it is. “Yeah you do, because I can’t stand to see you talking to a guy either, regardless of who it is.”

  If her eyes were daggers, mine would be poked out. Her extended arm between us reaches and grabs my shirt, pulling me toward her at the same time she cracks a smile. We’re so close. “Don’t hold it against me. You’re a catch.”

  I grab her thighs and slide her closer to me on the chair. “Oh yeah? Some would argue you’re the prize of the two.”

  She smiles at me, trying not to let it get too big. “You sure do know your way around a girl’s heart, baby.”

  I kiss her on the lips. “I know my way around your heart, just like you know your way around mine.”

  “Your heart is something I’ve treasured since you let me borrow it.”

  “I didn’t let you borrow it.” She focuses on me, not liking that answer. “I gave it to you. Borrowing implies I want it back. I don’t.”

  My eyes drop to her lips and I wait for it. They pull back, exposing her smile like the bud of a rose opening. My heart skips a beat. Loving Gabby is a life altering experience. She leaves a mark on you that you can’t erase. When I look back, I’m reminded that I pretty much knew it all along.

  17 years old . . .

  I sit in my truck in the dark, parked along the edge of the road in front of a vacant lot that hasn’t been built on yet, my truck still running. It was darker on this end of the street without all the house lights. It seems more obvious than curbside in front of a house like I’m a guest, but I don’t need anyone looking out the window and calling the cops on me because of a suspicious vehicle outside of their house. This is an upscale neighborhood. Anyone would notice an unidentified truck out front. I killed the headlights before I stopped.

  My phone vibrates in my lap. Riggan is lighting up the screen. I pick up the call as I raise the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

  “Where is your ass at?” I can hear music blaring in the background, but it sounds like it’s coming from a turned-up car system. Shouts cut in every few seconds. I can hear girls. “I haven’t seen you in at least thirty minutes.”

  That’s because something better came up than partying at the falls.

  “Where is he?” Courtney whines into the phone like she’s standing right beside him. “Tell him my parents think I’m staying with Haley tonight. We can do whatever. I can come over.”

  Like I can’t hear you.

  “Your bootycall is drunk and horny. She said it’s been a while.”

  I can hear the question in his tone. He’s suspicious. We’re teenagers. I have an active sex drive. Riggan knows it. It’s more active than his and he’s been dating Abby forever. I haven’t gone more than a week without sex since I started having sex with her. She’s only my second. I’m not really into that whole conquer every hot girl in school thing like some guys. I have morals. I may be a sinner having premarital sex, but I’m also not trying to piss God off by making a mockery of his commandments.

  Courtney has been my regular fuck buddy for the last year. I’ve taken her out a handful of times and we exchange conversation through text, but mostly we just party together and have sex. I don’t really want a girlfriend and she doesn’t want a boyfriend. It works. It’s easy. She’s effortless. And she’s also friends with Abby, so it’s not awkward at parties for us to all hang in a group.

  To most of the school we’re a couple—we’re not. I don’t question her about who she talks to and neither does she with me. She’s content to do whatever the fuck she wants while only spreading her legs for me until one of us shuts it down, and so am I, but that time has come. My mind is stuck on dark brown eyes the color of coffee, and has been for the last few weeks. Courtney’s are hazel.

  “I had to leave,” I say, closing my eyes, because I know he’s going to be pissed. I was supposed to be the DD tonight. We rotate on the weekends. As long as we don’t have a gig, he gets Friday, me Saturday, and two to three times a month Abby drives so we can drink together, but I checked with her before I left. She’s not drinking tonight. She only does occasionally and she rarely has enough to get drunk. She prefers being the sober one at a party. Abby is a good girl. But Riggan likes to play with her in the backseat when he’s been drinking while I drive around town ‘til curfew. Tough shit. It’s not like they don’t live next door to each other. She sneaks over all the time. Pretty sure their parents aren’t even in the dark about it.

  “For what?” he asks, his tone clipped. “You couldn’t even tell someone?”

  “I told Abby. Something suddenly came up I had to do. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. You can have a double this weekend.”

  “Abby, I’m going to get a beer. You want a bottle of water?”

  How much longer is this going to take? It’s been like fifteen minutes.

  Riggan clears his throat. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. “What makes you think it’s about a girl?”

  I can hear the lid of an ice chest drop and seconds later he pops the top on a can. “Cut the shit, Maddox. You wouldn’t give up a night of drinking on the weekend for just any reason. God knows we do a lot of shit for girls. Since right before school let out your head stays buried in your phone, you’re distracted, and you’re being shady. You never turn Courtney down. If you’re not fucking her, you’re fucking someone else.”

  “I’ve only fucked her once,” I blurt out, immediately fisting my hand in frustration because of it—the guilt of adding another girl to my roster. Sex feels too good to turn it down, and sex with Gabby felt incredible. I’m not ready to share her yet either. She’s mine. I haven’t seen her since the night she left with me from the concert when we went and parked down an o
ld backroad so I could concentrate on her. I had no intention of making a move that soon. I didn’t have to. She beat me to it. We still ended up in the back seat of my truck. She gave me something I’ll never forget. I don’t want to give it up. We’ve texted almost nonstop since I dropped her off and even talked on the phone some, starting the days following, but I can’t stand it anymore. It’s no longer enough just to hear her voice. We’re on summer break now. I had to see her. She gave me an opening—I took it.

  “Who is it? She go to our school?”

  “A girl I met at that concert a couple of weeks back.” I need to shut my mouth, but instead, I add, “she goes to private school across town—the Presbyterian one.” I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been friends with someone since you were little. There are no secrets even if you don’t want to share.

  Seconds of silence pass between us. “This isn’t like Courtney. You like her.”

  It wasn’t a question. He knows me better than anyone. “Yes.”

  He takes a deep breath. “Okay. You going to bring her around?”

  No. “Eventually.”

  A beep comes through my phone. I glance at the screen. Gabby. “Rig, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Better not forget, fucker. I know where you live.”

  With nothing but a chuckle, I switch over to her call. “Hey, where are you?”

  “Look in the rearview mirror. Do you see me?”

  I glance up, quickly picking out the blonde with a small body coming toward my truck in a pair of skintight black shorts, tennis shoes, and a tee shirt like she’s dressed for a night run. My heart suddenly beats like I took a hit of speed. “Yes. I see you.”