by Brenda Novak
“Mr. King?” The motel manager interrupted before he could argue with her.
“Don’t call the cops!” Hudson lifted a warning finger. “I’m sorry for the noise, but I haven’t done anything except put a hole in the wall, which I’ve paid for.”
“I understand. I’m glad you’re taking care of it. But you’re causing a disruption. And, let’s face it, you’re awfully angry. I can tell your poor girlfriend’s scared to death.”
Girlfriend? That made Hudson want to punch the wall again. “I’d never hurt her or any other woman!” He was irritated that anyone would even suggest it, but neither attempted to reassure him. Hudson got the impression they didn’t fully believe him, which only twisted him up worse.
“If you leave, there’ll be no need to get anyone else involved,” the motel manager said as he gathered the money and backed away again. “Let’s just... Let’s just get you out of here, okay? Look at her. She’s shaking like a leaf.”
Hudson couldn’t help feeling a little shocked when he looked at her objectively. She did seem frightened. He hadn’t done anything too bad, but he realized then that they were reacting to what he could’ve done. She didn’t trust him any more than he trusted her. “She brought this on herself,” he muttered, but he was no longer so sure. That sudden denial of hers at the end, when she’d been saying anything just to mollify him and get him to leave, had stolen the fire from his anger. What if, despite all the unlikely circumstances—including the fact that she’d provided the faulty birth control—this really was just one of those things? A surprise that no one had planned?
Maybe, the night they met, she hadn’t known the condoms weren’t reliable. Maybe she’d been as innocent as she claimed. If that was the case, he shouldn’t have accused her, shouldn’t have shaken her up. But he didn’t know what to think. The realization that he was now facing the very mistake he’d tried his hardest to avoid made him nauseated.
So what should he do? He felt as if she’d driven him into the turf better than any lineman he’d ever faced. His head was swimming so badly he couldn’t get his bearings.
“This way,” the manager coaxed him. “Come on, now. I don’t want any trouble.”
Hudson couldn’t let him call the police. He knew what the media would make of the fact that he’d acted badly with a woman in a motel room. They’d exaggerate everything, paint this little incident as much worse than it was, and then he’d be like all the other guys who’d given professional football players a bad name. He’d sworn he’d never do anything like that—which was why he conceded. “There’s not going to be any trouble. Look, I’m leaving.”
The motel manager backed out of the door as soon as Hudson reached it. The man seemed as scared as Ellie. Given that, Hudson had to admire the way he continued to insist.
At the last second, Hudson stopped and turned to Ellie. He felt he should say something. This had gone so badly. “I’ll call you later, when...when I’ve had a chance to calm down, okay?”
“No, don’t bother,” she said. “I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”
10
Ellie couldn’t pack fast enough. She was getting out of Silver Springs right away. She’d delivered the news. Hudson could pretend it wasn’t true if he wanted to. She was fine with that. She just hated that coming here had ruined her image of him. Otherwise, she could’ve continued to remember their time together fondly.
After she pulled her small suitcase off the bed, she nearly fell herself. She didn’t have her normal strength, needed to eat. She opened the wrapping on the sandwich she’d bought earlier and shoved a bite in her mouth, then checked outside to see if the coast was clear.
Hudson seemed to be gone. The motel manager was just walking back from having seen him off. Since he was coming to her door, probably to follow up and make sure she was okay, she stepped out and rolled her suitcase to her rental car.
“You’re leaving?” he asked as he watched.
“As soon as possible,” she responded.
“But I have you down for two nights.”
She wasn’t about to let that stop her. “Credit me what you can. Keep the rest.” If she couldn’t change her plane reservations, she might have to pay for a motel in Los Angeles, but she didn’t care if she ended up paying twice. Anything was preferable to staying here.
He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets as she went back inside the room to get her computer, her purse and the rest of her food. “For what it’s worth, I’m really surprised by Hudson’s behavior,” he said when she came out with the rest of her things. “I’ve never heard of him being violent with anyone—least of all a woman or a child. Most everyone around here sings his praises, especially Aiyana out at New Horizons.”
“Of course Aiyana loves him. He gives her a lot of money for the school.”
“Yeah, but he also spends a lot of time out there, helping the boys.”
“That’s nice of him,” she said, but there was no true admiration in her voice or her heart. All she could think about was the cold, hard look on his face when he’d advanced on her, and how decisively he’d talked about driving her to LA to get an abortion. This baby had already become real to her. Just last week she’d felt the first butterfly-like movement in her womb—proof of life—and had been contemplating names. Heck, she’d even started preparing the extra bedroom in her home as a nursery. What had ever possessed her to make this trip?
She’d been delusional, she decided, too honest for her own good and far too optimistic about the type of man she’d gotten involved with.
The manager told her he could credit her for one night. She thanked him, and that was it. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she said a silent good riddance to Hudson and the upsetting encounter they’d had. She was going back to her peaceful, steady life. Maybe it wasn’t exciting, but at least she wasn’t subjected to the whims of a pompous, overbearing professional football player. Once he understood that she didn’t expect anything from him—even support for their child—he’d forget about her.
She hoped.
* * *
Hudson felt terrible.
He felt terrible about bringing a child into a less-than-ideal situation, and that the child might feel the repercussions.
He felt terrible that he’d blamed Ellie for lying, if she wasn’t. (He still wasn’t quite sure about that; their encounter in September had been so unusual.)
He felt terrible for acting like a belligerent bully in front of her and the motel manager of The Mission Inn. They had to think he was some kind of monster.
Bottom line, he hadn’t felt worse in a long, long time.
“Shit,” he muttered as he prowled around his house. He needed to go back to the motel, needed to talk to Ellie again. She wouldn’t be happy to see him, but he’d behave much better this time, be more diplomatic. To begin with, he’d set his doubts aside in favor of trying to solve the problem at hand. And that was...what to do about the baby? He’d have a paternity test conducted once the child was born—to be absolutely sure—but Ellie was so certain he was the father that he suspected she was right. They hadn’t made love only once. They’d made love three times, which raised the chances, and each encounter had been gloriously messy and primal and uninhibited. He hadn’t noticed a leaking or broken condom, but that would be easy to miss. It wasn’t as though he’d ever turned on the lights to examine what they’d used. He’d just gone into the bathroom and gotten rid of it.
So...he needed to look at this situation as if he hadn’t been duped. He needed to take a deep breath and wrap his head around a different future than the one he’d envisioned for himself. He’d be a father before he became a husband. He couldn’t escape that now, so he had to figure out a way to accept it. But as if that wasn’t bad enough, his child would arrive in four months. He had very little time to prepare mentall
y or emotionally and, even worse, he or she would live clear across the country.
How could he be a decent father if he saw the kid only every couple of months?
He had no answer for that.
“Shit,” he said again. He’d been cursing ever since he’d met up with Ellie today. If something like this had to happen, why couldn’t he have gotten some local girl pregnant?
After everything he’d done to avoid getting anyone pregnant! All the nights he’d spent in his hotel room when his teammates were entertaining prostitutes down the hall. All the craziness he’d avoided when various friends had invited him to Vegas—and he’d called it a night when the groupies showed up. This wasn’t fair, he thought, then stopped himself. He couldn’t go back down that road. That would only rile him up again.
Once he was calm enough to stop pacing, he was tempted to go to bed, pull the pillow over his head and not wake up for several days. But Ellie was in town only for tomorrow. He had to deal with this problem while she was still here.
Remembering something about her that he wanted to check out, he went into his office, where he’d left his laptop. When they’d met, she’d said she was a scientist specializing in immunology. And when they’d talked later, she’d made that seem believable, with everything she knew about the moon and the stars, even the tides. She was educated, and someone as educated as she was would be unlikely to try to trap him with a pregnancy. Someone like Ellie could earn her own living. Besides, how would she have known he was going to be at Envy in the first place?
Now that his more rational self seemed to be making a comeback, he glanced at the note Ellie had left with Aiyana to make sure he spelled her last name correctly as he typed it into a Google search. Although he didn’t expect anything too detailed or revealing to pop up, he didn’t have to sift through several pages to find a link. The very first one took him to the webpage for the Banting Diabetes Center, where she worked. He knew that because he found her picture on the staff page, along with her bio.
Ellie P. Fisher, PhD, is pursuing a postdoctoral fellowship at the Cell Transplant Center at the Banting Diabetes Center, working in the fields of cellular therapies, immunoengineering and tolerance induction for the cure of type 1 diabetes.
There she was. If only he’d had her last name, he could’ve tracked her down months ago. She really didn’t seem like a woman who’d sabotage a condom in order to get pregnant. That kind of person typically wasn’t a respected scientist. That made him feel less cheated, but it also made him feel like an ass. If she didn’t trick him, she must’ve been as surprised and unprepared for the pregnancy as he was. Winding up in bed together wasn’t all her fault. Sure, she was the one who’d pulled him into that taxi, but he’d been more than happy to let her. He was the one who’d pressed her up against the car and kissed her, wasn’t he?
Wincing as he remembered punching a hole in the wall of her motel room, he stared down at his swollen knuckles. “Shit,” he grumbled again and, with a deep sigh, forced himself to get up and find his phone.
He’d put Ellie into his contacts, so it wasn’t hard to bring up her number. He considered calling her but decided she might be more receptive to a text, since that was less intrusive.
Hey, it’s Hudson. I’m sorry for how I behaved, he wrote. I won’t ever treat you that way again.
No response.
Can we talk? he wrote.
She ignored that, too. He spent the next two hours moving restlessly through the house, trying to decide whether he should give up on the texts and call. He’d just made the decision to go ahead when he finally got an answer from her.
We have nothing to talk about. I don’t want anything from you. No money. No support. Nothing. You’re free to go on with your life as if you never heard from me.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered and scratched his neck as he considered his own response.
I didn’t mean to sound stingy. I’ll help, of course. You know I can afford it. This isn’t about the money. It was never about the money. I was...taken off guard.
I honestly don’t need you, came her reply. I can take care of myself and the baby. No worries. Have a good life.
“Have a good life?” He raked his fingers through his hair, which he’d been doing quite a bit. I’m going to ignore that, since I know you’re mad and I deserve it. But, seriously, I won’t stick you with all the expenses, he wrote.
Nothing.
I’ll be generous, he added. He meant that, but he was also hoping to entice her to reenter the conversation.
Sadly, it didn’t work. And when he tried to call her, she wouldn’t pick up.
After he’d tried her another five times, she broke down and texted him again.
Please quit harassing me, or I’ll change my number. It was a mistake to give it to you. I had no idea you were abusive when I did that.
I’m not abusive! You just...took me by surprise.
Do you think I was happy when I first got the news?
I’m sure you weren’t. I feel bad about that now. I’ll apologize again, if that will help.
Like I said, don’t bother. I’ve seen all I need to see.
He felt a moment’s panic.
So you’re cutting me off from the baby?
If you’d like to see the baby, you can send a letter to my place of employment at the Banting Diabetes Center after June 10. I’m not due until then. You’ll find the address online.
I have rights, you know, he wrote, but he could tell that wasn’t the direction to go, either, because she wouldn’t respond to him at all after that.
* * *
Hudson doubted he’d ever had a worse night’s sleep. As the wind and rain from the storm he’d been expecting lashed the house, he’d forced himself to leave Ellie alone so she’d have a chance to recover from their argument, but it hadn’t been easy to sit back and do nothing. He craved some form of resolution. He knew he couldn’t push her too hard. God forbid she got it in her head that he was really harassing her. A public scandal would only make this worse. It was going to be difficult to keep a lid on what was happening as things stood.
He got up at first light—didn’t see any point in continuing to toss and turn—and stared out the kitchen window to see that the rain had stopped. As he made coffee, he repeatedly checked his phone. She had to answer him sometime, didn’t she?
Apparently not, he realized as the minutes dragged by. Maybe she’d even blocked him...
Hello? he texted. Will you please meet with me today?
At last he heard a ding, but he wasn’t happy with what he read. Write the BDC after June 10.
He wouldn’t wait that long. He was going over there to confront her. She had to talk to him. But he needed to be smarter this time. He figured he’d go to the office first and ask the manager to accompany him to her door. With someone else there, chances were she’d give him a few minutes. Once he convinced her that he wouldn’t go ballistic again, maybe she’d let him in. Worst case, he hoped to work out a six-months-on/six-months-off arrangement. He hated the idea of missing half his child’s life. For him, stability was everything, since it was what he’d never had. But splitting each year meant he could take the baby in the winter, after football season ended and he wasn’t so busy.
Getting his keys, he rushed out of the house. But then he made himself go back and shower and shave. He had to look civil, unthreatening, presentable. He even splashed on some cologne.
There, he thought as he studied himself in the mirror. He didn’t appear dangerous. Other than his bloodshot eyes and the tightness of his jaw, evidence that he’d had a rough night, he simply looked like the jock he was supposed to be.
“Here’s hoping,” he said and grabbed the card Ellie had given Aiyana. He thought it might help him convince the motel manager that she’d come to Silver Springs planning to
meet with him.
* * *
“What do you mean, she’s not here?”
The same manager Hudson had met yesterday—Monty, according to his name tag—was manning the front desk. “What I said. She cut out right after you left.”
Hudson’s heart sank. “But I need to talk to her.”
Monty made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I’d say it’s best you leave her alone.”
Like hell. She was carrying his kid. “Did she mention where she was going?”
“Back to Miami, I guess,” he said with a shrug. “That’s where she’s from. I told her I’d have to charge her for the stay, but she didn’t care. I did credit one night,” he added, as if that mattered to anyone besides Ellie.
“She lives in Cooper City.” She’d told him that much at the club. “Can you give me her address?”
“Sorry, no. I’m not allowed to give out that kind of information.”
The keys in Hudson’s hand dug into his fingers as he tightened his grip on them. “But you did take a copy of her driver’s license.”
“Of course. That’s standard operating procedure.”
“So you could call that up on the computer—and you could easily give me her address.”
His eyes widened. “Except I can’t, like I said.”
“Why not? Who would know?”
The guy seemed flustered. “I would! What if I gave you her address and she ends up getting beaten or...or murdered? I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the next Nicole Simpson!”
He must’ve acted even crazier yesterday than he remembered—or this guy had one hell of an imagination. “That’s ridiculous. I would never hurt her or anyone else,” he snapped and stormed out. He didn’t need the manager. He could get that information easily enough from his private investigator. And he proved it. After one phone call and an hour’s wait, he had what he was looking for.
11
