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Cocksure

Page 36

by K. I. Lynn


  My muscles are tense as I stare at him, trying to muster as much strength as I can. “Tate, you need to leave.”

  “Then you went and whored yourself out,” he says, ignoring me. “Letting some inferior punk come in you and knock you up. That should be my child you’re carrying.”

  A chill moves through me as I pull away from him and into more of a sitting position. “Niko is going to be back any minute. Please, just go before things get ugly,” I say, hoping that he’ll leave rather than risk another confrontation with Niko.

  “Since when did you turn into such a fucking liar, Everly?” he spits at me. “I know he’s not coming back. I watched him leave, and from the looks of the clothes he was wearing, I’d say he’s not going to be returning anytime soon.”

  His hand starts to pull the sheet that is covering me. I grab it to stop him, but he pulls it harder, exposing my legs.

  “What are you going to do, Tate, force me to be with you?”

  He scoffs at my question. “Of course not. I’ve never had to force any woman to be with me.”

  “Then what are you doing?” I ask.

  “Looking. There is nothing wrong with looking. Pregnancy suits you, baby. You have that glow people always say women get when they are carrying a child.”

  I don’t know what to do right now. He’s gone from one person to another in a matter of seconds, making me even more uneasy than I was when I awoke to him sitting on my bed. I glance over and eye my work cell phone that I plugged in before I went to bed.

  It’s then that I remember my personal cell is still under my pillow. I placed it there in case Niko called me from work in the middle of the night. Tate sees me looking at the one plugged in, and it’s then that he gets up and grabs my phone. He unplugs it, turning the power off and placing it in his pocket away from my reach.

  “Wouldn’t want you calling anyone before I’ve had a chance to talk to you, Everly,” he says, his tone sending a shiver down my spine. “I mean, I came all this way just for you. The least you can do is hear what I have to say before you go calling your mental boyfriend.”

  “Niko is mental? You’ve broken into my house, again, and you’re calling him mental?”

  “Get dressed, baby,” Tate says. “Let’s go for a ride. There’s something I want to show you.” He walks to the door and opens it. “I’ll give you some space, but I’m waiting right here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, Tate,” I say, surprised that my voice doesn’t waver because everything inside me is. “It’s midnight, for crying out loud. If you want to talk, then come back tomorrow at a normal hour, and I’ll talk to you.” I pull the pillow in front of me, feigning modesty, bringing the other cell phone with it.

  After figuring out by touch which is the bottom, I hit the home button and wake it up. The phone icon is in the bottom left corner if I remember correctly, and I pray that I hit the right app. In my periphery, I spot the color green and move my thumb to the center. Niko was the last person I spoke to so he should be the person that my phone redials when I hit the call button.

  “You can either get up and get some clothes on, or you can come with me dressed as you are,” he says with a snarl before changing it to a smile. “Your choice, darling.”

  “Close the door then, so that I can get dressed.”

  “Why? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before. Stop stalling and move that sweet little ass.”

  “Tate, please. Please, just go,” I say once more, hoping that he’ll do it, even though the truth is I know he’s not leaving.

  He wants me to go with him, but I know that no matter what, I need to do everything in my power to stay here in my house until someone shows up. He looks disheveled. His hair is sticking out from his hands continually running through it. During the time we were together, Tate only did that when he was nervous about something. I don’t know what he has planned, but I’m not going with him. I want him to leave, but knowing that isn’t going to happen without my going with him, I figure the next best thing would be to try and get him to talk to me here until Niko or someone can get here.

  “No, Everly. I’ve been trying to talk to you for months. To explain everything, but you ignored me. You just cut me out of your life like I was never even there. You packed your things and just left without a word. I begged for you to listen, said the words please and sorry until it didn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t listen!” he yells as he slams his hand against the door frame making me jump. “You wouldn’t talk to me, but you’re going to listen now.”

  “I’ll talk to you now, Tate,” I say, trying to calm the shaking, hoping that Niko answered the phone. “Let me get dressed, and we can go downstairs and talk. I’ll make you some coffee or whatever and we can talk.”

  Tate’s head tilts to the side. “Now you want to listen?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “You’re right. I didn’t give you an opportunity to explain. I was hurt, and I didn’t want to hear what you had to say. I owe it to you to at least hear you out. To explain,” I say and hope to hell I sound genuine because I sure as hell can’t stop my hands from shaking. They give me away, show him that I’m scared out of my mind, but I’m willing to say anything to get him to back off. He stares at me for a minute, saying nothing, and I have no idea what the hell is going through his mind.

  “Tate?” He turns his back to me but doesn’t move.

  “Get dressed, Everly. I’ll give you some privacy, but I’m not going to lose the one shot I have to make you see that we’re good for each other. You don’t throw away something like we have due to a misunderstanding,” he says, and I want to yell and rage at him about his choice of words, but I don’t.

  I have to think about the baby I’m carrying and the fact that if I fight him right now, I could hurt my son. My yoga pants are still on the floor from where I took them off earlier, and I throw them on as fast as possible with my belly being in the way. I fell asleep in nothing but my panties and one of Niko’s tees, so that will have to do for right now. I don’t want Tate to change his mind about talking downstairs, so I slip my house slippers on and walk to the door, tucking the cell phone into the waist of my pants so that he doesn’t see.

  I walk past Tate and pray that he’s calm enough now to be reasonable. “Come on, I’ll make you something to eat too if you’d like. I could use a late night snack myself,” I say to him, but I don’t look back to see if he’s coming. It’s not until I get to the top of the stairs that I feel his hand pull me to a stop. I turn and look at him, and I see a hint of sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

  “It should have been me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, genuinely puzzled at his rapid change of thoughts. He reaches out with his other hand and places it on my belly. I freeze not knowing what he’s going to do, and the fear for my child is something I’ve never in my life felt before.

  “This baby should have been mine and yours, Everly. That doesn’t matter to me, though. I’ll take care of it as if it were my own, and we can have another after. You’ll see. Everything is going to work out. We have a long drive, darling, so let’s go grab you a jacket, okay?” he says, and I know that sticking around here isn’t going to happen.

  “Tate, I’m not going with you. I want to talk to you, but here.”

  He shakes his head and tightens his grip. “I can’t show you what I want to show you here. Let’s just get a coat for you and some shoes and then we can go—”

  “No!” I yell and pull at my arm, ready to run away, needing to get away, but at the twist, I feel my heel slip off the edge of the top step. The momentum throws my weight toward the stairs, my center of mass shifted due to the baby, and I reach out to grab onto something as I feel myself start to fall.

  “Everly!” Tate’s hands and body come forward and try to grab my arm again, but it’s too late.

  A scream leaves me as I wrap an arm around my stomach to protect the baby and tumble down the stairs. I finally come to a s
top, and the last person I think of before everything goes black is Niko.

  “HEY, BABY,” I SAY into the phone, but there’s no response. “Baby? Everly?”

  “Get dressed, darling. Let’s go for a ride. There’s something I want to show you,” a male voice says, and the blood in my veins freezes. It’s from far away, not directly into the phone.

  What the fuck? I pull the phone back to double check that it was Everly that just called me and sure enough, it’s her number, but that’s not her, so what the hell is going on?

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, Tate. It’s midnight for crying out loud. If you want to talk, then come back tomorrow at a normal hour, and I’ll talk to you.”

  Tate. The blood freezes in my veins, and for a moment, I stop breathing.

  I immediately hit the recording app and put the phone back up to my ear.

  “You can either get up and get some clothes on, or you can come with me dressed as you are. Your choice, darling,” he says, sounding muffled, and my fucking blood boils.

  “Close the door, then, so I can get dressed,” I hear her say more clearly.

  “Why? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before. Stop stalling and move that sweet little ass.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That motherfucker!

  I run through the station without a word, almost taking Jake out as I get to the door.

  “Whoa! Everything—”

  “Call Cam. Get cops to Everly’s. Now!”

  That’s all I can get out as I run to my truck. It’s fucking cold out, and I don’t have a coat on, but I don’t care.

  “I’m coming, baby.” As soon as I get to my truck, I’ve got the key in the ignition, gear in drive, and foot on the gas before my door is even closed.

  “Tate, please.” I can hear the fear in her voice, and it rips at me. “Please, just go.”

  I wanted to believe we’d solved the Tate problem, but somewhere deep down I was afraid he would come back. The evidence was there that he wasn’t right.

  “No, Everly. I’ve been trying to talk to you for months. To explain everything, but you ignored me. You just cut me out of your life like I was never even . . .” his voice fades in and out, making it hard to make out what he’s saying. “. . . just left without a word. I begged for you to listen, said the words please and sorry until it didn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t listen!” his voice booms out. “You wouldn’t talk to me,” Tate says to her, and the distance that he has between him and her cell doesn’t stop me from hearing the desperation in his voice.

  “Keep him talking, baby,” I say, not knowing if she can hear me or not, but I feel like I need to say something until I can get to her.

  “I’ll talk to you now, Tate. Let me get dressed, and we can go downstairs and talk. I’ll make you some coffee or whatever and we can talk.”

  “Now you want to listen?” I hear him reply.

  “Yes. You’re right. I didn’t give you an opportunity to explain. I was hurt, and I didn’t want to hear what you had to say. I owe it to you to at least hear you out. To explain.”

  “Tate?” I hear her say, and it’s killing me not knowing what the fuck is going on.

  My heart hammers against my chest, fear and anger boiling inside me. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to motherfucking kill the bastard when I get there.

  “Get dressed, Everly. I’ll give you so. . .” the connection of the phone being able to pick up his voice drops out again. “. . . make you see that we are good for each other. You don’t throw away something like we have due to a misunderstanding,” he says to her, and it’s all I can do not to break my fucking teeth from grinding them so hard.

  This guy is fucking dead if he touches her! The phone sounds worse, and I can hardly make out what he’s saying now. Fuck!

  I’m stuck, the traffic not moving, completely immobilized which can only be due to an accident at this time of night, unable to do anything but listen to the woman I love play nice with this fucking nutcase. I can hear her tone, I understand the tremor there, and it’s killing me right now.

  “It should have been me,” I hear Tate say, just barely audible at this point. I have no idea where she has her phone, but it keeps making noise, and those sound drown out their words.

  “What are you talking about?” I finally hear her say.

  “Baby, keep calm. I’m coming. Son of a bitch, get the fuck out of my way!” I yell at the cars in front of me, laying my hand on the horn of my truck. There is more muffled talking and what sounds like movement, but I have no idea. I have the phone on speaker now so I can get through this shit. The phone is quiet, and I look at it to make sure I didn’t lose her. That’s when I hear it.

  “No!” Everly’s screams pierce through.

  “Run, Everly. Get out of there,” I yell, but the problem is, I have no idea where in the house they are.

  I can hear the sounds of something, and my blood runs cold at what I overhear next. Tate, not Everly, and he’s coming through loud and clear, leading me to believe he’s close to her. It’s what he says that has me pushing my foot down on the gas and fuck whoever gets in my way.

  “Fuck! Everly? Everly, can you hear me, sweetheart? I’m going to get help, okay? You’re going to be okay. Wake up, Evie. You have to open your eyes, darling. I bought us a house. That’s what I wanted to show you, but you’re so stubborn! Oh, Jesus. You’re bleeding. Fuck! Everly, wake up. Please, Everly. Fuck! What do I do? I don’t know what to do!”

  I lose it and start screaming into the phone. I don’t care. “You’re fucking dead! You hear me, motherfucker! Dead!”

  My leg bounces, and I spot a side street I can turn on to get away from the traffic. It might get me there faster even with all the twists and turns. A little off-roading, and I press down on the gas. I just need to know that she’s okay. I hit 911 on my cell and give them her address. I feel better knowing that Bishop called it in already, and I end the call.

  Fuck. Finally. I see her house up ahead, and I don’t slow down. The light from her entryway is coming through the open door. I can’t see anyone as I pull up, barely putting my truck in park, jumping out and running for her front steps.

  I see someone appear at her front door, and I’m ready to bury this fucker right now, but as I get closer, he turns around, talking into a phone. Not Tate, her neighbor with the little girl, Grant or some shit.

  “Where is she?” I yell, and he points to the door.

  “They said not to move her, man. They’re on their way. Two minutes ETA,” he says, and I ignore him. All that matters right now is me getting to Ev.

  I run past him, and that’s when I see her. My blood runs cold. She’s not moving. Her arm is bent at a weird angle, and there is blood on her face, from what, I have no clue. I fall to the ground beside her.

  “Everly, baby, can you hear me? Come on, baby, open your eyes.” Nothing. I move my hands gently over her and then place two fingers between the bone and the tendon over her radial artery to check for a pulse. I let out a breath once I find it. I want to grab her, but I know not to move her. The sound of sirens close by is the best sound I’ve ever heard.

  “Ambulance is here. Is there someone I can call for her?” her neighbor asks, and it’s then that I remember Tate.

  “Where is Tate?”

  “Who?” His brow is scrunched in confusion, and he shakes his head. “There was no one here when I found her. I was in the kitchen when I heard something banging on the stairs, but it wasn’t my stairs. When I didn’t see your truck outside, I got nervous, and that’s when I came out. The door was open, and she was on the ground at the bottom of the stairs.”

  “Did she say anything to you?” I ask him, and his head shakes back and forth.

  “No, man, she was unconscious when I got here which was only two minutes tops before you pulled up.”

  I nod my head and move to the side as the EMTs come through the doorway. I know one of them, and he knows Cam as well.

  “How long
has she been down?” he asks, and I just want him to get her to the hospital.

  “Maybe ten minutes or so. She’s thirty-five weeks pregnant,” I say, and he starts checking her vitals while his partner brings in a stretcher and neck support.

  “We’re going to take her to Newton Wellesley. You following behind?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not leaving her. They’re mine.”

  He nods. “You can ride in the bus with her then. What’s her name? Age? Anything else I should know?”

  “Everly Hayes, twenty-six. Nothing that I’m aware of. She just had her appointment a few days ago, and I don’t remember hearing anything that you would need to know. I’ll call Cameron. He’s her brother, so he’ll know if I miss anything.”

  He looks over at the mention of Cam but doesn’t say anything. He and his partner both count it off and then move Ev so she’s on her side when they place her gently back so that she is flat on the backboard and ready to move to the stretcher. They lift her up and place her down, immediately strapping her in. I move out of the way until they start running her to the ambulance, following quickly behind.

  “I’ll close up her house, Niko. I’m praying for her and the baby. If you need anything, just ask!” Grant yells, and I wave him off.

  I know he means well, but I don’t care about her house. I don’t care about shit right now except Everly and my son.

  “HANG IN THERE, BABY. You’re doing great.”

  I’ve said the same thing about one hundred times already, and each time I say it, Everly lays there, eyes closed, unresponsive.

  They told me to keep talking to her, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m scared. So scared for her. Seeing her still form laying at the bottom of those stairs . . . I shudder thinking about it, and I want to go to the police station and kill that motherfucker right now.

  Apparently, Tate came back to the house after they took Everly away in the ambulance. He told the cops he left because he wanted to find help, but the fucker could have done that by calling 911 from her house while she laid at the bottom of the fucking stairs bleeding.

 

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