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Living With Doubt (The Regret Series Book 2)

Page 2

by Riann C. Miller


  Jake suddenly appears behind me, ready to play the peacemaker. “Okay, okay, everyone…let’s just calm down for a second and let them talk.”

  “I don’t need to hear what she has to say to know she’s trying to get her claws in my son again. When she’s around, she ruins everything. Isn’t that right, Chase? That’s why you dumped her ass before you left for college. One quick conversation with me, and she was history.”

  Jordan gasps, which tells me Chase’s memory still hasn’t returned.

  Anger unlike anything I’ve felt before takes over any common sense I normally have. “God, you’re such a bitter old fucker. Did someone tell you when you were a kid that you weren’t good enough to play football, so you decided you’d live out your dreams through your son? And now you think because you’ve done everything possible for him, that he owes you something? You walked your dumb ass in here and started spouting off shit about football this and football that, and not once did you ask about what his doctor said.”

  Steven grits his teeth as everyone continues to stare at me.

  I’m unable to hold it back. I open my mouth and say, “I hope one day you get screwed by a donkey with a twenty-inch dick, because that’s exactly what you deserve. Maybe that way you won’t be so fucking uptight that everyone in your life allows you to screw them over.”

  Jake appears to hold back his laughter. “Whoa, I didn’t know New York had many donkeys, let alone ones with dicks that size. Remind me to double check with you before I visit.”

  I almost laugh. If it weren’t for the fact that my best friend is on the verge of tears, I would have. I dish out shit all the time, but it’s rare for someone to go head to head with me.

  “We’re not married?” The room goes silent as everyone turns to Chase.

  “No,” Jordan softly answers.

  “We’ve never been married?” he presses.

  “Of course you’re not married to her. You got rid of her ten years ago, and everyone except me thought it would be a good idea to let you think otherwise. Chase, you have a life, and she’s not a part of it for a reason. For a damn good reason.”

  I’m about to knee this jerk in the balls when some woman dressed like a tramp steps inside, adding to the craziness.

  “Oh, baby. I was so worried.” The blonde bimbo walks up to Chase and wraps her arms around him before kissing him on the lips.

  I glance at Jordan, and she looks like she’s about to get sick.

  “Who the hell are you?” I ask.

  The bimbo smiles like she’s being interviewed. “I’m Carrie. Chase’s girlfriend.”

  Jake chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. I glance at Chase, only to find his face screwed up in anger. He appears mad, but I’m not sure with whom. Steven smirks, but it’s the expression on Jordan’s face that completely guts me. She looks like she did ten years ago, and that thought scares the shit out of me.

  “New York is a huge city filled with a ton of assholes, but the ones I’ve met today in this room are by far the worst.” I step closer to Steven. “You think you’re someone special and that gives you the right to treat people however you want? Well, you’re wrong, because, at the end of the day, you’re still an asshole. And you…” I point directly at the only man who has not once, but twice now, put a look on my friend’s face that will haunt me for a long time. “…never deserved her. If this is the kind of man you are, then you did her a favor ten years ago, and I hope that thing attached to your arm bleeds you dry. Let’s go.” I grab Jordan’s arm and start dragging her out the front door. I glance over my shoulder, and my eyes connect with Jake’s one last time. He almost looks like he wants to say something, but I have no intention of sticking around to find out if I’m right.

  My life always feels like it’s one complicated mess after another, and now I once again have to worry about my best friend and her ability to forget the only man she’s ever loved. Hopefully, that’s enough to keep my mind off the big ape with gorgeous brown eyes.

  1

  Lacey

  3 Months Later

  When life throws you a curve ball, you’re supposed to hit the fucker with a bat.

  At least that was always my dad’s advice every time one of his daughters were upset. I never played sports, so the metaphor was lost on me—except the part where I should hit something…that I understood all too well.

  Releasing my anger on a punching bag has kept me out of jail countless times throughout my life.

  Unfortunately, as a twenty-nine-year-old adult, I find I’m still working on my anger management. When I’m stressed, I drink. When I’m mad, I go to the gym. When I feel a combination of the two, usually all hell breaks loose—at least in my head, which is exactly what’s happening at the moment. Morgan, my sister, is temporarily crashing at my apartment. She recently accepted a job as the up and coming fashion designer, Ervin Kelly’s, personal assistant. They hired her on the spot; therefore, she claims she had no time to find her own place. I should probably mention I have a less-than-stellar relationship with my three older sisters. Our mother had spit out four kids in a five-year span, and the four of us spent our entire lives trying to outdo each other. Morgan is the one sister I can at least tolerate for short periods of time without the urge to kill her. However, having her up in my personal space is a whole other story.

  “I poured you a coffee to take on the subway to work.” She steps out of my rather small kitchen with a huge smile on her face.

  “Shouldn’t you have left by now?” I question as my eyes glance at the clock on the wall.

  “Oh no, I don’t have to be into work until noon today.”

  I groan. “Then why the hell are you not out looking for your own place?”

  “Because my baby sister has a decent place for me to crash, and I still haven’t earned my first paycheck.”

  I cringe thinking about how much longer she plans to stay in my decent place, which is nothing more than a small, two-bedroom apartment in a rather shady neighborhood. “Hopefully your savings account can handle the hit, because you’re not staying here much longer.” I attempt to glare, but my bitchy powers don’t work on Morgan who mastered them long before I did.

  “I won’t be home until late. Ervin is requiring me to attend some damn party, so I have no idea when I’ll be home.”

  “Great. Have fun. Start apartment shopping…maybe somewhere across town?”

  She smirks and hands me my travel mug of coffee, which I gladly take before I walk out my door.

  Taking a cab to work would be awesome, but it would also seriously eat into what little money I make. So instead, I ride the subway and endure some of the very same people I end up defending in court.

  Today, like most Mondays, everyone on the subway appears to be in a rather crappy mood, and the miserably cold weather that almost cuts to the bone doesn’t help any. By the time I arrive at my office, which is really nothing more than a hole in the wall, my nerves are already shot, but leave it to one of my best friends to push me over the edge.

  “Another second and you would’ve been late. I waited on you as long as I could.” Caleb raises an eyebrow in question.

  Next to Jordan, Caleb Ramsey is my best friend, but that wasn’t always the case. Three years ago, we were both hired as interns at Wheeler, Massa & Croizer with the hopes of landing a permanent job—therefore, I hated Caleb on principle alone. After months of working our asses off, they hired both of us as junior assistants. At the end of the day, we make shit, but at least we have a job.

  “Have you ever tried running in five-inch heels when it’s ten below outside?”

  The corners of Caleb’s mouth turn up with a smile. “No, but for you I might consider trying.” The mental picture of Caleb in heels is worthy of a laugh.

  “I stopped by to tell you assignments have been sent down. Looks like the two of us are going to spend a lot of time this week in court defending the city’s finest.”

  I groan, even though I’m not surp
rised. Being the last two hired, Caleb and I are usually stuck with the firm’s pro bono cases.

  “At least we’ll have a good excuse for going out on Friday.”

  “If my sister doesn’t move the hell out of my apartment, I might need a night out before then.”

  “Invite your sister to tag along.”

  My mouth drops open. “No. No way, and if you so much as think about screwing my sister, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you.”

  I’ve grown to love Caleb like a brother. He has blond hair on the verge of being too long, soft grey eyes, and is the perfect build. Big but not too big. He seems to be a hit with the ladies, and while I’m certain he looks good without his clothing on, I’m also a hundred percent sure I never want to see him naked. The very last thing I want is Caleb to date one of my sisters—it would be like he ditched me for the dark side.

  “I wouldn’t think of it. Want to grab lunch later?”

  I nod before Caleb finally darts back out my door, leaving me to start another long shitty week.

  2

  Jake

  When I open the door to my mother’s house, the smell of a home-cooked meal hits my nose and I groan in delight.

  “Jakey, is that you?”

  “Yep,” I answer as Mom rounds the corner.

  “I’m sorry you’re home, but I won’t lie and say I’m not happy to see you.”

  Our season officially ended Sunday without us going to the playoffs. Overall, we had a shitty season, but once Chase, our quarterback and my best friend, went down with a serious concussion, only to never return, our season went to hell.

  “You win some, you lose some. This year we ended up losing more than some.” I act like it doesn’t bother me that we didn’t at least make it to the playoffs. I turned thirty in August, so my chances of winning a Super Bowl ring are starting to dwindle—not to mention my current contract is up.

  As a player, I had a good year, and my agent assures me he’s about to bring me a contract I won’t be able to refuse, but only time will tell.

  “Well regardless, I’m glad to have you home.”

  My mother is beautiful for her fifty-one years. Her blond hair is slowly showing signs of greying, but other than that, you’d probably guess she’s my older sister. In high school, I regularly punched any guy dumb enough to call her a MILF, but her beauty was never lost on me.

  I walk over to the stove hoping to score something to eat. “Where’s Bridgett?”

  “Oh, she’s at a party with some friends. I didn’t tell her you were coming in tonight because I was worried something would come up and you wouldn’t make it home.”

  “What do you mean she’s at a party?” Images of my sister at some frat party cause a red haze to cloud my vision.

  “She’s nineteen, Jakey. She has a life. When she’s not in class or studying, she’s out with friends.”

  I pop my knuckles as I think of all the things that could happen to my baby sister.

  “Oh, cut it out. She’s a grown adult. I was married by the time I was her age, so don’t go and give her a hard time about having a life that includes men.”

  “Men?” I tsk, shaking my head.

  “Yes, Bridgett has a boyfriend.”

  “Why the hell am I just now hearing about this?”

  “Probably because this is the reaction she was expecting, and I’m telling you to cool it. Carson is a good kid.”

  “Carson,” I mumble. “What kind of fucking name is that?”

  “Jake,” she says with a scolding tone.

  I cross my arms over my chest as visions of this punk touching my kid sister float through my mind. “He better keep his dirty little hands to himself.”

  “Really? That’s the attitude you’re going to have after all the women you’ve been with?”

  My eyes widen and my stomach flips for a different reason than seconds before.

  In college, I spent three years with the same woman. We were engaged and life seemed grand until suddenly it wasn’t. Since then, I haven’t been with the same woman more than once, and I’ve gone out of my way to ensure my bed partners never cross over into my personal life. As far as I’m concerned, I look like a fucking saint.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jakey, I know that girl hurt you. You’re not the type of man who’d ask someone to marry him if you weren’t all in, but you can’t allow one bad relationship to rule the rest of your life.”

  My legs suddenly feel weak, and I have to lean against the counter to keep from falling over. “We were talking about Bridgett,” I quietly say as the shock of her comment continues to wash over me.

  “Yes…you’re upset your sister is dating, but I have to tell you, she’s not the one I’m worried about. All the money in the world won’t do you any good if you continue to allow the seed of doubt that girl put in your head to control your life.” Mom’s face softens just before she takes a step closer. “I’ve waited on you after enough games. I have a pretty good idea how you spend your free time.”

  Ouch.

  I know what most of those women say. The ones waiting around after a game hoping to gain a player’s attention. The ones who pretend like they’ve been with you a hundred times already just to out-show the woman next to them, and my mom is telling me she’s heard that crap. The part that truly sickens me is, more times than not, she’s had my baby sister with her.

  “You can’t believe everything you hear, Mom.”

  “You’re right,” she softly says. “I only know what you’ve shown me. In the last nine years, you haven’t once introduced me to a woman, which makes those wild stories sound probable.”

  Inwardly, I cringe, knowing she’s right. Crazy nights, random women, countless parties…they all seem like a good idea until your sweet mother politely announces that she knows you’re a whore.

  “Okay. Enough about me.”

  Mom gives me a knowing smile. “Let’s eat, then you can get settled into your room.” I give in and do exactly what my mom wants, except the part where I pretend my sister is an adult.

  Instead, I log into Where’s my iPhone. Because I want to know exactly where Bridgett’s hanging out.

  “Mom, I’ll be back,” I shout about an hour after we had dinner.

  “Okay,” I hear just before the door closes behind me.

  Twenty minutes later, I park almost a block from the frat house my sister is at. A few cars down, I hear a girl throwing up. To my right, I see a guy with his pants around his ankles, moaning. I don’t look long enough to confirm there’s anyone with him. Instead, I pick up my pace toward the house that’s overflowing with party-goers.

  “Hey, baby.” A girl who barely looks old enough to attend high school attempts to grab my arm, but I shake her off and continue on my mission to find my sister. I walk through the door, only to discover the house is packed to the max with people. Finding Bridgett won’t be as easy as I figured.

  “Hey, dude…you’re Jake Girard.” A guy catches my attention, but rather than respond, I force a smile and continue to scan the house. “Are you looking for your sister?”

  This time, his comment causes my eyes to snap to his. “Do you know where Bridgett is?” Bridgett is my half-sister, and my mother stupidly gave Bridgett her father’s last name. If anyone here knows I’m her brother, it’s because she told them.

  “Yeah, man. I think she’s in the kitchen with Carson.”

  I don’t even wait long enough to tell him thank you before I take off in the direction I think the kitchen is.

  Several kegs line the walls, which are surrounded by dozens of frat boys. My eyes continue to take everything in until I finally spot Bridgett. She’s leaning against the wall, talking to a couple of girls with a guy standing right next to her.

  I take a few steps closer hoping to gain her attention. “Yo. What’s my kid sister doing at a party like this?”

  Bridgett’s face lights up when she spots me. “Jake? Oh my God.” She wraps
her arms around my neck in delight.

  I watch as the kid next to her slowly takes me in. “And you are?” I ask with a hard tone once Bridgett returns to her spot next to him.

  “Oh, stop it, Jakey. This is my boyfriend, Carson, and you’re not going to scare him off.”

  I smirk because the look on Carson’s face says otherwise.

  “N-nice to meet you,” he sputters, holding his hand out.

  I wait a beat before I finally shake his hand a little harder than necessary. Carson wiggles his fingers when he pulls his hand away.

  “Sorry,” I say with a sneer.

  “What are you doing here?” Bridgett questions as her beautiful face lights up with a smile.

  “My flight got in earlier today, and I wanted to see my kid sister.”

  “Then let’s get out of here. We can head back to Mom’s and visit.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there in a few.”

  I smile at Bridgett before I give Carson a sharp look. The way he had his hands on my sister’s waist when I walked up to the two of them tells me he knows her in ways I’d rather he not, but I force my brain to stop that train of thought and make my way back to my truck.

  Half-dressed females are everywhere. Dancing on tables. Taking shots off each other’s bodies. Grinding against guys, standing against the wall hoping to be noticed. Absolutely nothing about this party holds any kind of appeal. I’m either losing my edge, or thirty is starting to kick my ass.

  My phone buzzes with a text bringing me out of a deep sleep. I’ve been home for a few days, and Mom and Bridgett have gone back to their normal routines, which has left me with more downtime than I know what to do with. Last night, I drank a six-pack and watched a Warrior’s game…by myself.

  Back home in Arizona, I go out with friends—at least when it doesn’t affect my ability to play ball—but I tend to keep a low profile when I’m at my mother’s house.

 

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