He paced the hall again, pausing at the bathroom door. He raised his hand to knock and stopped. He walked back to the living room, looked at the ugly, impersonal setting, and returned to the kitchen.
The test shouldn’t take so long. She should’ve been out to tell him the results. Back at the bathroom door, he knocked softly. No response. “Indy.”
Nothing.
He tried the handle—locked.
His fingers curled into a fist and he pounded. “Indy, let me in.”
She answered faintly, “Go away.”
He pounded again. “Let me in, or I’ll break the damn door.”
She didn’t answer.
He tested the knob again, but the old push button lock held. He wanted to knock the door off its hinges, but he grabbed a paper clip from her office instead.
With the clip straightened, he popped the lock and swung the door open. Boxes and directions lay haphazardly on the floor.
Indy sat with her legs pulled to her chest, her head on her knees. She wore only her bra and panties and clutched both pregnancy tests in her hand.
He squatted beside her and touched her hair.
“I told you to leave.”
“I’m not good at following orders.” He took the tests from her hand. Both had two clear lines staring out.
Indy was pregnant.
He tossed them in the trash and fought the urge to run. Staying would be complicated. He didn’t like complications.
Is that how his own father had felt?
“Indy.”
She pulled farther into herself. Quinn had already left for her honeymoon. He could call Kate. Kate would take over.
Kate would tell Indy exactly what to do.
He sighed and slid his arm under her knees and the other behind her back. Lifting her from the floor, he rapped his elbow on the small pedestal sink. He bit back the curse that rose to his lips and carried her out.
She snuggled into his neck and whispered, “I don’t know how I fucked up again. I promised myself this would never happen.”
He paused in his journey. Her words stumbled across his brain. Again?
Rather than laying her on the bed, he sat and held her on his lap. She tucked her head under his chin and inhaled deeply. Likewise, he smelled her hair.
When had scent become a comfort?
“I’m sorry I snapped at you in the car. Years ago a woman said she was pregnant with my baby.”
Indy pulled away quickly, knocking her head into his chin.
“She lied,” he added.
Tears swam in her eyes. “You thought I’d get myself pregnant so I could trap you and steal your money.”
The hurt rang deep in her voice. He’d effectively backed himself into a corner. How could he convince her that he hadn’t meant to accuse her without dredging up the past? He wasn’t even sure he could talk about it. The mess with Selena and his father still hurt. “There are a lot of gold diggers out there.”
She slid her body from his lap. “I’m not one.”
She pulled a T-shirt from the chair in the corner and put it on. The hot-pink shirt had a Care Bear on the front. One with a rainbow in its stomach.
“I didn’t say you were.” He stood in front of her.
“But you thought it. Thanks for making things clear.” She pushed past him and went into the kitchen.
How much fucking up could he do in one night? He knew none of it applied to her, but it came out anyway. He followed her and watched as she set a kettle of water on a burner.
“You can go. You wanted to know, and now you do. I’m pregnant with Richard’s baby.” She busied herself with getting a mug and tea bag.
“Are you sure?”
She snorted. “I think I managed to pee on the stick correctly. Two solid lines. Yeah, I’m sure.”
“No. Are you sure it’s his?”
She wheeled around and ran into him with her arms extended. The shove caught him off guard, and he stumbled. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
“What?”
She came at him again, but he braced for the blow. “I’m sick of your stupid accusations. I don’t care what you think of me. But know this. You’re the only man I’ve slept with in the last year besides Richard.”
What the hell was she talking about? She’d gone completely crazy and he couldn’t follow. He replayed the conversation in his head. What did he say wrong?
“Get. Out,” she snapped.
“Wait.” Every thought he had came out of his mouth jumbled, the meaning unclear. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Let me rephrase: Could it be mine?”
Indy’s face had gone red with rage. Her muscles trembled with anger. “We’ve already established that. You wore condoms.”
“You have your own stash of condoms, so I’m guessing you used them with Richard too.”
She froze. The kettle whistled, and she turned away from him. “I already missed a period by the time we slept together, so I’m sure I was already pregnant.”
He leaned against the doorway. “What are you going to do?”
She bobbled the kettle as she poured. “I don’t know. Go to the doctor, see how far along I am, and then make a decision.”
With her mug in hand, she turned to him, face and voice calm. “You’re off the hook. You should go.”
“I want to stay.” He didn’t even know why, but every cell in his body urged him to hold her.
“I don’t want you here. It’s over.”
Her words slapped him hard. The ice in her eyes sliced through him. He turned and walked through the living room to get his jacket. If she was done with him, he sure as hell was done with her.
Indy’s hands shook so badly, she had to put her cup back on the counter. The pain in her chest gripped so tight she couldn’t cry. The weight pressed down on her, and she thought she’d suffocate. She had wanted Griffin to hold her more than anything, but she couldn’t lean on him. Not now. Even she couldn’t take advantage of him like that. He didn’t know what he was offering. She needed to figure out what she was going to do.
She eased her way to the table and sat on a chair. What would Quinn do? Indy rolled her eyes. Quinn would be skipping and yelping in happiness. This was Quinn’s dream. Indy dropped that dream at seventeen. She wasn’t motherhood material.
The swarm of thoughts and emotions became too much. Nothing could be done at midnight on a Saturday. She should call Richard. He had a right to know. On Monday, she’d call the doctor.
She could handle this logically. In the meantime, she’d focus on other things. After a good night’s sleep she’d make a plan. She had work at the bar. She’d keep busy.
God, I wish I could talk to Quinn. She’d make me cookies and a list of pros and cons. She’s the queen of practicality.
Quinn would be back in a week. Seven days wasn’t too long.
The next morning, Indy woke feeling better. Or so she told herself. She tried to believe in the power of positive thinking.
She needed a distraction and time to think. Quinn’s house would give her both. She planned to paint the nursery as a surprise for Quinn and Ryan. She showered and dressed quickly. She packed some fruit and bottled water and headed out. The excitement of her newly formed plan consumed her.
At the home improvement store, she chose the perfect shade of bright yellow. Not too sunny, not too pastel. She dumped rollers, brushes, tape, and pans into her cart. With her back seat loaded with her purchases, she drove to Quinn’s house.
She’d already walked through with Quinn. The split level was empty and fairly clean. Indy carried her supplies up to the room Quinn had picked for the nursery and plugged in the radio she brought from home.
With the windows open and a mask on, she got to work. Within two hours she had the room primed and ready for paint. While the primer dried, she walked through the other rooms. They were all a clean off-white, devoid of personality.
Indy decided if the nursery went well, she’d tackle some of the other rooms too. She kn
ew that Quinn had chosen yellow for the nursery. It was the one color from their childhood home that Quinn loved. She also knew Quinn would want cool, subtle colors for the rest of the house. She’d live with the white, but she’d prefer something more inviting. Nothing too splashy or overwhelming. Something that said family.
Indy had all day to spend alone thinking, and Quinn would be gone the week. She could paint. Productivity might help her thought process. It couldn’t hurt.
Griffin had called Indy three times. He’d never wasted this much time on a woman, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet anyway. He didn’t even know what she planned. If she decided not to have the baby, they could continue on as they were. Nothing had to change.
What if she did plan to have the baby?
He shook his head. He had no control over that. Did it matter to him? The baby wasn’t his. Maybe she’d go back to her ex. The thought burned in his gut. The relationship wasn’t serious. Not with the ex, not with him. A baby made it serious.
How had his life gotten so complicated?
Strangely, the only thing lacking complications was buying a house. Using the research Indy had provided, he’d made an offer on the house she’d shown him. The house was perfect: near enough to the city for the kids and spacious enough for him to have privacy. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on remodeling it. He’d already interviewed general contractors and planned for permits.
Not only did he want to get the program back on track, but he also worried about losing kids. If he didn’t get them back together soon, they would drop out of sight. Maybe he could put Kendra on building some quality field trips for them. She had to know of some businesses that would allow them access. He made notes to talk to Kendra.
His phone rang, and he futilely hoped Indy wanted to distract him. A number he didn’t recognize flashed, and he debated answering it. “Hello?”
“Griffin, it’s Duane. I need your help.”
“What is it?” He straightened in his chair. Of all the kids, he worried about Duane the most.
“I got arrested.”
Griffin bolted from his chair. “What?”
“I didn’t do it, but no one will believe me. You’re my phone call. I know we had a deal, and if you don’t want to help me, I get it, but could you please call my grandma for me?”
He grabbed his keys. “Where are you?”
“Seventeenth precinct.” There was some shuffling and a very quiet, “Thank you.”
In his car, Griffin raced to the police station while talking to his lawyer. The man didn’t handle criminal cases, but he could offer advice and give him the name of a lawyer who could help.
Two hours later, Duane was free. The official charge ended up being criminal damage to property, basic vandalism. Griffin hoped they could beat it in court since there was no real proof Duane had painted the graffiti. His friends, however, had been charged with drug possession. Griffin was worried.
The boy sat silently on the drive until they pulled up on his house. “Are you gonna tell my grandma?”
“Do I need to?”
He shook his head.
“This goes beyond our deal to be in the program, Duane. This is about what you want out of life. You won’t get anywhere running with that crowd.”
“I know. But I had nothing else going on.” He shot Griffin a look full of blame.
Griffin ached for the boy. He was failing him. The entire group. “I’m working on it. I know I need to hold up my end of the deal. Stay out of trouble and we’ll get something going soon. I promise.”
Duane opened the door and stepped out. Before closing it, he said, “I know you try, but promises from some rich white guy don’t mean much around here.”
Griffin watched him run up the front steps and go through the door. He would make sure his promises held up. Losing these kids wasn’t an option.
He needed a stiff drink and a good time. He drove out of the crappy neighborhood and to the one place he figured he could get both: End Zone to find Indy.
Three nights back-to-back at the bar proved to be too much for Indy. Spending her days painting Quinn’s house added to the exhaustion. She enjoyed the mindless work of painting. No one needed her attention and she didn’t have to remember anything. She could think.
The bar gave her time so she didn’t have to think. She couldn’t recall a time she’d ever felt so overwhelmed by life. Griffin had called and left brief messages. She couldn’t deal with him right now.
She grabbed her keys and headed for the door to work her last shift for the next two days when the bell rang. She swung the door open and saw Richard.
“Hi. I got your message. Can I come in?”
She wanted to slam the door on his impossibly huge grin, but she widened the opening. “You can’t stay long; I’m on my way to work.”
“You’re pregnant. For sure?”
She nodded. Why the hell was he so happy?
“I knew it. I knew it would work. This is good. Perfect.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.
Indy froze. “What would work?”
“I knew the thought of getting married and having a baby would freak you out some, but I knew, just knew, that if you were pregnant, you’d be happy.” He rocked a little, side to side.
She shoved him away. “What are you talking about? What did you do?”
“Come on now, Indy. Don’t get like this. I did it for us. We belong together.” He reached for her hand.
Fury bubbled in her chest. “What. Did. You. Do?”
He sighed and shook his head slightly. “I poked holes in the condoms. It wasn’t surefire, but this proves it was meant to be.”
“You intentionally got me pregnant. Without my permission or knowledge.” Her breaths came hard and fast. How could he do this? Why? She bent over and put her hands on her thighs.
He began to rub her back. “Are you okay?”
She stood abruptly, feeling slightly dizzy. “Okay? Okay? No, I’m not okay. How stupid can you be? What did I ever do to make you think I wanted a baby?”
“It’s nature. Every woman wants to be a mother. You’re genetically predisposed to want it. Even the women who claim not to are lying to themselves.”
“No. You’re wrong. I don’t want a baby. I want my life. I can leave when I want. I can go to Acapulco at Christmas because no one needs me. If I get bored with my job, I can quit because no one is depending on me. When I get bored with a man, I can find someone else to fuck. I don’t want to be tied to anyone forever.” Her chest tightened and breathing became difficult.
“Indy, that’s your hormones talking. Relax and think about this. We belong together. We can be a great couple.”
“We’re not a couple. We won’t be a couple again. Get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back.” Her brain clouded with anger. She couldn’t think of anything except for how he had tricked her. How he knew so little about her that only what he wanted mattered.
“Indy.”
“No. We’re done. Get out.”
“You can’t do this.” His face was slack with shock.
“I can and I am. Get out. If you’re not gone in thirty seconds, I’m calling the cops.”
His hands clenched in fist. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you. I have a right to my baby.”
“Wrong. This is my body. I can do whatever the hell I want and you don’t have a say.”
“No.” He grabbed her shoulders.
She fumbled for her phone and began to dial. “Think about it, Richard. It won’t look good for you to be arrested.”
His hands dropped. He turned toward the door. “I’m not giving up on us.”
“There is no us.”
He moved through the door without another word. She gulped air in an attempt to calm the anger pulsing through her. Blood beat in her ears. She looked around the living room that carried Richard’s mark. She grabbed a table lamp and hurled it against the wall. Hearing the shatter soothed her nerves, so sh
e repeated the action with its mate.
Looking for more satisfaction, she shoved the cocktail table but realized it was too heavy to throw. Glass littered the leather couch, making her feel better. She grabbed the big chunks of glass to clean up, and one dug into her hand. The gash immediately bled, a line of crimson running down her arm.
Shit. Now she’d be late for work. She hurriedly cleaned and wrapped the cut and headed out the door, leaving the rest of the mess for later. What was one more thing on her plate?
She needed a distraction, something to make her forget all her problems. Griffin came to mind. But she couldn’t go to him. He’d want answers and she still didn’t have any. In fact, she was even more confused now.
Richard had gotten her pregnant intentionally because he thought he’d be able to keep her. How delusional could one man be?
The anger left, but a sickening feeling settled in her stomach. The bar was crowded and she hoped the busyness would keep Richard off her mind.
She placed beer in front of her waiting customers. The after-work crowd sought the same distraction she did. Smile in place, she did her best to relax and flirt.
“Hey, how about a song?”
“Sorry, guys, not right now. Maybe a little later.” She turned to the next table to take an order.
She should sing. The extra money came in handy, but she was so tired. When not facing customers, her body moved sluggishly.
Fingers wrapped around her wrist and tugged for her attention. Taking a deep breath, she reined in her anger so she could tell Richard to fuck off without hitting him. She shifted her body and saw Griffin.
Her shoulders sagged, but the anger lifted. She didn’t want to see him, but happiness filled her. The emotional tug-of-war increased her fatigue.
“I’ve been calling.”
“I know. I’ve been busy.” He still held her wrist, and his thumb stroked her pulse. She didn’t pull away from the comforting touch.
“Too busy to return a call?”
She closed her eyes. She wanted to lie to him. “No. I avoided you. I have a lot on my mind, and I don’t know what to do with you.”
A Good Time Page 13
