False Start: A Football Romance

by Saylor Bliss

  Oh my God.

  Every single emotion I have felt over the last year comes crashing back into me like a freight train, and I lose it. Charging after Camryn, I swing at him, hitting him with everything I have in me. I punch and kick and slap and claw at him. I’m angry and hurt and sad and happy. I can’t believe he’s back, and I’m pissed he ever left.

  “Why?”

  “Why did you leave?” I swing, hitting him across the face. He doesn’t try to stop me. He takes every strike like he feels he deserves them as much as I feel the need to give them.

  “I hate you. I hate you. Why did you leave? Why didn’t you call? Why?” I scream at him, lashing into him over and over and over again.

  Kiptyn runs into the room and wraps his arms around me to pull me from Camryn, and that’s when Camryn comes alive. As soon as Kip touches me, pulling me back, Camryn stands and swings at Kip. Kip twists me out of the way, and I barely avoid being hit by Cam’s fist, but Kip isn’t so lucky. Now the two brothers are fighting, and I can’t stand it.

  “Stop it. Let him go!” I scream at Camryn, hitting him on the back as he leans over Kip, trying to get a good hit on him. For a second, I think he forgets where he is or what’s going on, because he turns to me and shoves me backward. I fly across the room. My back hits against the island in the kitchen before I slump to the floor, unable to move.

  The darkness closes in around me, claiming me as its own. It’s comfortable here. I’m not lying in the kitchen floor of my boyfriend's house while his dead brother’s baby grows inside of me. In the darkness, it's just me and it. It carries me and coats me and loves me. Nothing can touch me here. Nothing can hurt me. I want to stay here forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Kiptyn

  Fuck.

  I didn’t want Skila to find out this way. I wanted to have a minute to warn her or prepare her, but she stormed into the kitchen, and all of my wants went out the window as she crashed to the floor.

  I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. Watching her lie there motionless, once again, except this time, she is swollen with child, and the way she hit . . . fuck. Camryn stays by her side while I call an ambulance. They won’t be long. It never takes them long to show up when someone with money calls, but if I had been calling them when I was kid, ha. I'd be happy if they came at all.

  Camryn and I had just sat down in the kitchen when I heard the door. I had hoped she would go upstairs first so I could at least brace him for what he was about to see.

  She didn’t.

  I could see the betrayal in his eyes, and it cut me like a knife. I’d do just about anything to erase that look from his face. To wash it away and go back to the relief and joy he showed when I first opened the front door.

  “Were you going to tell me?” Camryn asks, looking down at Skila like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. She is, but I don’t want him looking at her like that, even if she was his first.

  “Yeah, of course. It just happened, man.” He laughs at that. It's not a good laugh. It sounds choked and forced.

  “And the baby?” he asks, and I freeze. I hadn’t thought about the baby. Shit.

  “Yeah,” I say. I don’t know what else to say.

  “I might be back from the dead, bro, but I still know how to count. It's mine, unless you were fucking her while I was gone.”

  “Fuck you.”

  It takes everything inside of me not to step forward and take a swing at him for that comment. I don’t care if my shoulder is fucked and I'd risk never playing another game again. If he knew her at all, he would know she wasn’t that type of girl. He glances back at me and notes my balled fist at my sides, clenching and unclenching.

  “I see,” he says, and by the way he hangs his head, I think maybe he does. It can't be easy for him, I know that. Hell, he thought he was in love with her before he was sent away. Maybe he still does, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right to ask. Growing up, my brother was my best friend. We shared everything. There wasn’t a secret between us, and yet, at the moment, he could very well still be dead, and I'd be able to talk to him more freely than I can right now.

  The paramedics knock on the door, and I rush to let them in. One of them comes straight to Skila’s side.

  “How long has she been out?” he asks. I have no clue. I didn’t think to look at the clock. I was more worried about the fact she hit ground and Camryn’s reaction than I was to the time.

  “Five minutes, thirty-eight seconds,” Camryn states flatly.

  “How far along is she?”

  “Twenty-seven weeks,” I say smugly.

  Another paramedic enters the house with a gurney, and together, they lift her and lay her on it. “Ok, Dad, you can ride with if you want.”

  “Ok,” we both reply at the same time, and the paramedic looks at us sharply. I can guess what he must be thinking. I glance at Camryn and see his hardened scowl, ready to fight me on this. He looks up at me then, and I can easily read his look. It screams, ‘You owe me this’, and I may. I know he needs to talk to Skila, and he would want to hear from her how things between us occurred.

  “You go ahead, bro. I'll catch up.” He nods as he jumps in the back of the ambulance. The doors close and the lights switch on. I run back inside, tossing on some shoes and a shirt, and then I’m back out the door, jumping in Chris’s car and speeding toward the hospital.

  Chapter Thirty

  Skila

  I wake slowly, the fog lifting at its own leisurely rate. Bits and pieces of the ordeal come back to me as I come to. Kiptyn and I had a fight. I left. Camryn was home.

  Camryn.

  I remember the look in his eyes when he saw me in the doorway. I don’t think I'll ever be able to erase it from my mind.

  A throat clears across the room, and my eyes fly open. Camryn sits in a chair, his chin propped on his fist, leaning forward on spread legs. He’s staring straight at me. I wonder what he sees. Does he know the child in my womb is his? Is he angry? Should I say something? I don’t have the slightest clue what to say to him.

  He looks like hell, and I mean quite literally. I’d bet he’s lost at least fifty pounds. His face is sunken in, causing his jaw and cheekbones to jut out sharply. There’s a fresh scar across his right eyebrow, and judging from the way it looks, I don’t think it was treated at a hospital.

  His clothes are clean, but even they look to be at least three sizes too big on him. Physical attributes aside, there is something else different about him. He feels darker. His aura or presence is haunting, and if I didn’t know him, I'd be afraid to be alone with him right now. As it is, I’m mildly curious and a little uncomfortable. I have questions I want to ask, and yet I know he does too. What is the correct protocol here?

  “Are you happy?” he asks first, and I let the breath I’ve been holding escape in a rush. It's a start, and I'll take it.

  “Yes. What happened to you?” I ask, because it's the only question I can think of at the moment and I need the answer.

  “Nothing, everything, too much to ever talk about, so please don’t ask me to. I can't.” I see him fighting to not close down, so I nod my head vigorously and change questions.

  “When did you get back?”

  “Yesterday. I went to Atlanta . . . to find you, believe it or not, and then I came here to Kip’s.” He laughs like he has told some amazing joke that only he gets.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and I am. I’m sorry he didn’t trust me with me his real identity, and he didn’t tell me what he did for a living. I’m sorry he didn’t call me when he found out he was getting shipped out, and that he had to find out all of this like he did. He nods his head in acceptance.

  “Do you love him?” His body is taut, waiting for my answer. I don’t know what he expects, but I'll only tell him the truth.

  “Yes.” His entire body relaxes, and I wonder if maybe that was the answer he was searching for.

  “Good. Good. He deserves someone like you, Sky. Take care
of him. Take care of both of them,” he says, gesturing toward my stomach. He stands to leave the room, but before he goes, he walks to the side of my bed and leans in, kissing me softly on the forehead and laying a packet of papers in my lap. I don’t know what to make of his statement.

  What did he mean by ‘take care of them’? Is he leaving? Where is he going? Is he coming back? What about Kip? This will destroy him. He cannot lose his brother again.

  “I'll be back for those in a little while. Get some rest. Your son needs it,” Camryn says, walking out the door. My hand flies to my stomach. My son? I’m having a baby boy? Kiptyn is going to be so happy. I can't wait to tell him.

  I don’t know how much time passes before I remember the pack of papers in my lap. Lifting them, I pull the stack out and skim over the form on the top.

  TERMINATION OF PARENTAL RIGHTS

  Big, bold letters stare me in the face. I feel all the blood leave my face as ice floods my veins before I read through the rest of the papers. He is signing over all of his rights to the baby so that Kiptyn can legally sign the birth certificate. Tears well in my eyes. I can't decide if I'm happy or sad. Does he not want my baby? I don’t understand it. Who would not want him?

  Strong arms wrap around me, and I know right away it’s Kip. I smell his masculine scent of pine and fresh cotton. He strokes the hair from my face and whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

  “Have you seen this?” I ask him on a sob, thrusting the papers toward his chest. He takes them from me and sets them in a chair by the bed.

  “Yeah, baby. He told me he was doing it. As soon as he knew for sure the baby was his, he contacted a lawyer and had the papers delivered straight to the hospital. I tried to tell him to wait, but . . .”

  “Why is he doing this? I don’t understand, Kip.” I can’t calm down. I grab onto Kiptyn and pull him to me. I cry uncontrollably into his shirt. My heart hurts so much that I’m about to be sick.

  “I don’t know, baby. I think he was trying to make you happy. He’s not in a good place right now, and he wants the baby to have the best chance it can have.”

  “He,” I say. Kiptyn looks at me with lost eyes before I realize what I’ve said. Every time we’ve gone for a sonogram, he’s been hiding his junk between his legs so we weren’t sure if it was a boy or a girl yet.

  “He? It’s a boy?” he asks, and I nod into his chest. “That’s great, Sky. Are you happy?” I pull back and look at the man sitting on the bed next to me. He is asking me the same question Camryn asked me not even ten minutes ago, and while the answer is the still the same, we still have a lot of things we need to talk about.

  “I was very happy, Kip,” I say, starting a conversation neither of us wants to have.

  He sighs and turns away from me. “I know, Sky. A lot of shit has happened, hasn’t it?”

  I get the feeling he is headed in a totally different direction than I am. I grab his hand and pull it into my lap, careful to not hurt his other arm. I can’t believe he’s up and moving around with his injury. I’d be lying in the bed whining like a little girl if it was mine.

  “I fucked up last night. I should have taken a cab home, but you should know better than to think I’d bring some bitch home with me.”

  Now it’s my turn to hang my head in shame. I did know better, but my hormones and my overactive imagination got the best of me. He takes my chin in his hand, lifting my face to his as he gazes into my eyes with his startling blue ones.

  “Sky . . . baby, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kiptyn

  I feel like the air has been sucked from my lungs, and it's slowly evaporating from the room around me. I’m trying to hold on and be strong for Skila, because I know she needs me to, but right now, I don’t know if my being here is the right thing. Does she even want me here? Or am I just the cheap replacement for the real thing that she can't have?

  Camryn.

  I want to knock his teeth down his throat right now for what he’s doing to her. She deserves so much better than this. I don’t give a damn what he went through over there. I know it fucked him up—that much is obvious just from looking at him. A nurse dropped a tray of medical supplies, and it clanged to the floor loudly.

  I flinched, but Cam . . . shit, I thought he was about to go into full-blown panic mode. He kept reaching for his waist and the gun that wasn’t there—thankfully. I can't imagine what would have happened had it been—a catastrophe, for sure. I tried to talk to him and calm him down, but he just pushed me off and stalked in the direction of Skila’s room.

  I stay in the waiting room while the doctors are in there with her, and it fucking kills me. Apparently, since we aren’t married and I'm not the father of the baby—a fact that Camryn was oh, so happy to point out—I’m not allowed in there while she’s still unconscious. It doesn’t matter that we’re dating or that the baby is mine. Until she’s awake and able to tell the staff who is and isn’t allowed in there, I have to stay out here.

  I could have made a big fuss about Cam being allowed in there, but it comforts me a little knowing someone is with her. Someone who I know, without a shadow of a doubt, will protect her. It’s evident in the way he stands guard outside her room. If anyone even attempts to hurt her, they’d have hell to pay. Of course, I don’t take into account the fact that she might still have feelings for him, and what seeing him again will do to her.

  I take the forced solitude like a champ and make the required calls to Granny and Bo. I’m not sure if Camryn had gone by there when he was in Atlanta, and since we aren’t really on speaking terms, I can’t ask. Granny is floored, to say the least, when I tell her Cam is alive and well—although that part is a bit of a stretch. She wants to jump on a plane right away, but I convince her to wait and give him some time. We spend the rest of our conversation talking about Skila and the baby. If anyone knows how excited I am, it’s my grandmother. She hangs up with strict orders to come visit soon and bring Sky along. I tell her I will.

  I just hope it’s true.

  Now, I’m sitting on the edge of her bed, wrapping my good arm around her and cradling her against me the best I can, comforting the woman I love because my brother has just broken her heart. God, my life sucks ass.

  “Is there anything I can do, Sky? Do you need anything?” I ask her.

  Really, I just want any excuse to get the hell out of here and track my asshole brother down. I told him to wait and not stress her anymore about the baby until we’re at least out of the hospital. Hell, the doctor hasn’t even made it back in here yet.

  “No, I’m okay. It’s just a shock more than anything, I guess,” she states, staring across the room and off into space.

  I’ve spent every day of the past two months with this woman. I know when her mind is somewhere else, and I know that right now her mind is on Camryn. There’s a light knock at the door, followed by the pad of feet entering. I glance over my shoulder and see a nurse in blue scrubs entering, followed closely by the doctor overseeing Skila’s care. She hasn’t even noticed someone new is in the room. Her gaze is still locked on the closed blinds across the room, staring at nothing, at everything.

  The doctor clears his throat and waits for Skila to notice him. She doesn’t, and so I nod for him to begin.

  “Miss Parker, it looks like everything is fine on the ultrasound. There’s no further bleeding. The placenta looks good. Growth is fine, and you’re not contracting, so I think it will be safe to send you home. I'm going to put you on pelvic rest until your next appointment in the office. That means no sex or anything in the vagina until then, ok?”

  “Are you sure it’s safe to go home? She doesn’t need to stay overnight?” I ask, worried.

  “No, there’s no reason to keep her in the hospital at this time. If she starts spotting again or feels contractions, then she can come back, but that is very unlikely.”

  “And you’re sure the baby is okay?” Skila turns her
head and looks at the doctor, now waiting for his reply.

  “Yes. Everything with the baby looks perfectly healthy. His growth is great, and the fall didn’t affect him at all. Everything is fine.”

  “Ok. Kiptyn, please take me home,” Skila says and then turns her head to stare back toward the window.

  The nurse informs me that she will be back in a few minutes with the discharge paperwork and that Skila can get dressed while we wait. I’m starting to wonder if she’ll be able to do anything other than stare into space, but as soon as everyone else leaves the room, she stands and drops the gown from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I pass her bra and shirt to her and then her pants—minus panties, because they were thrown in the trash earlier when we first arrived at the hospital.

  I’ve never been more terrified in my life than I was when Camryn told me Skila was bleeding. I thought we had lost the baby. I don’t know shit about pregnancy and how any of this crap works. I didn’t know how a fall like that would affect an unborn baby. I heard the word blood and I freaked the fuck out.

  My world caved in around me. Hearing that the baby is okay feels like someone had breathed a lungful of air back into my dry lungs, and I soak it in, absorbing it. As soon as I get out of here and get her home safe and sound, I'm ordering every pregnancy how-to book I can find.

  The nurse returns and hands me a packet of papers on shit that could go wrong and what to look for in case of emergency. I glance at it and sign the sheet of discharge papers for Skila, and then I lead her outside to Chris’s car so that I can take her back home where she belongs. The last twenty-four hours have been beyond fucked up, and I just want my girl and our bed.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Skila

  Kiptyn tucks the sheet up around my shoulders and kisses me lightly on the forehead. He keeps telling me to get some rest, but there is no chance in hell I’ll be able to sleep. My mind won’t shut off. It’s racing in a million different directions with one hundred thousand unanswered questions. My hand snakes out from under the lush black comforter, and I grab hold of Kip’s wrist before he turns to leave.