Bad For You: A Seabreeze novel
Page 19
“Britt is pregnant. She says it’s mine,” His jaw tensed, and his tortured gaze locked with mine.
She was pregnant. He had gotten a girl pregnant. He was going to be a father. How did I handle this? Why was he asking me not to leave him? Did he not believe her? “Are you sure it’s yours?” I asked, unable to look at him.
“The condom broke about two months ago. I didn’t even think about her getting pregnant. I thought she was on the fucking pill. I got myself checked to make sure I didn’t get anything from her, but that was it.”
I didn’t have any words. I needed to think. I had to process this.
“Blythe, please, don’t pull away from me. Please, don’t. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” He was begging, and I hated hearing the pain in his voice. But this time I couldn’t be there to defend him and protect him. I was going to have to protect me.
“I just need some time to think,” I managed to say. I was numb. I was alone again. This time it would be worse. I knew what it felt like to belong to someone. Before, I had been blissfully ignorant.
“No. No, you’re closing me out. God, baby, don’t do this. Don’t close me out. Stay with me. Listen to me. I love you. I love you so much.”
I jerked as if I had been slapped. The pain his words caused was as sharp as a knife going through my chest. Not now. I couldn’t hear those words now. My entire life I had wanted nothing more than to hear someone tell me they loved me. I had been afraid to hope for it, and now, in the darkest moment of my life, those words were finally spoken. Shaking my head, I backed away from him.
“I can’t. Not now. Just please leave me alone. I need time to think,” I backed up until my legs hit the couch behind me.
“Blythe, you will destroy me. I love you so much. You own my soul. You are everything to me. Don’t do this. Let me hold you,” he was moving toward me, but I shook my head. Letting him hold me now would taint it. I felt safe in his arms. I wanted to remember that feeling. If he held me now, it would ruin that memory.
“Just leave. I need you to leave. I’m sorry, Krit. I hate that you’re hurting and scared. I hate that I can’t fix that for you. I want to, but if I don’t have a chance to hold myself together and deal . . .” I stopped. I wouldn’t tell him how close I was to shattering.
“I need to hold you,” he said. The thickness in his voice was getting to me.
“I need to hold myself this time,” I told him, and finally lifted my gaze up to meet his. The unshed tears in his beautiful blue depths almost sent me to my knees. God, how could I do this to him? He was pleading with me. But if I caved in, I would be facing so much future pain. How much of that pain could I handle? Was I ready for that? “This is a lot for me to take in. My past . . .” I swallowed. “I’ve never told you about my life. Not really. It made me expect certain things. You taught me not to expect those things. You made me believe I could be wanted. You wanted me when no one else ever has. I will never ever forget that. But right now I need to be alone. I owe you the world, but I don’t think I am going to fit into yours any longer. Your life is about to change, and I don’t see my place in it. Just give me some time.”
Krit’s shoulders sagged, and he reminded me of a lost defeated little boy. Nothing in the world would have kept me from going to him and taking away his pain . . . except this. “You don’t just fit into my world, Blythe. You are my world,” he said in a haunted voice, then he walked away.
The door closed behind him, and when I was sure he was really gone, I curled up on the floor and sobbed for all I had been given and all that had been taken away.
KRIT
I sat in a chair facing the window. My eyes focused on Blythe’s car. She needed to be alone and think. As long as I knew she was safely underneath me in her apartment, I could deal with it. But if she tried to leave me, I was going after her.
The more I thought about losing her, the more I realized it was impossible. I wouldn’t let it happen. I wasn’t going to let her leave me. Green hadn’t even bitched about me not going to Live Bay tonight. Until Blythe was back in my arms, I wasn’t moving from this window. If she stayed in that apartment too much longer, I was going after her though. She might think she needed to be alone, but she needed me as much as I needed her.
My phone lit up with another call from Britt. Until I knew Blythe wasn’t lost to me, I couldn’t deal with Britt. I wasn’t going to abandon my kid. If it was mine. I knew the condom broke, but I wasn’t an idiot. Girls like Britt lied. I wanted doctor’s proof she was pregnant, then I wanted a paternity test the moment the kid was born. Only then would I accept that it was mine.
Blythe was my number-one concern. The devastated look on her face that had turned to acceptance had killed me. She had hinted at the past I had always wondered about. I knew someone had hurt her, but she’d said she had never felt wanted until me. Did that mean no one had wanted her? What about when she was a kid? The pastor’s family that had raised her—surely they’d wanted her.
I was going to protect her. She would never feel like this again. I would make damn sure of it. If it took the rest of my life to make this up to her, I would do it. Dropping my head into my hands, I let the regret and self-loathing eat away at me. If I’d only known she would come, I would have never touched anyone else. If I had only known that Blythe would walk into my life and make everything right, I would have been ready for her. To give her the life she deserved. I wouldn’t be a fucking singer in a band who had slept with more women than he could count.
The preacher’s son was probably so fucking pure, it was ridiculous. He probably had a job where girls didn’t throw their panties at him, and a college degree. Lifting my head, headlights pulled into the parking lot. It was almost midnight. Green would be coming in soon. He wouldn’t bring the party with him. I didn’t worry about that.
The car pulled up to the front of the building, but it didn’t park. Then I saw her dark hair as she ran toward it. Standing up, I watched as Blythe opened the passenger door and climbed inside. I couldn’t stop her. She was leaving with him. Linc’s car pulled out of the parking lot and shot off. But it wasn’t going toward town. It was headed for the interstate. Motherfucker! Grabbing my keys, I took off running. I’d find him, and when I did, I’d beat him until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t take her from me. She was mine.
Chapter Twenty-One
BLYTHE
“What did the doctor say? Did your dad talk to a doctor? Who called him?” I asked with a wide range of emotion running through me.
Linc had called me thirty minutes ago. I hadn’t answered because I couldn’t talk. My tears were dried up, but my body was aching from all the vomiting I had done when it had finally sunk in that another woman would carry Krit’s baby inside her and she would give birth to that baby. A part of him. I had lost it.
I had curled up on the bathroom floor and whimpered after the dry heaving stopped. Linc had called four more times, and I’d realized it had been almost midnight. Something was wrong.
I had been right. Something was wrong. Pastor Williams had been admitted to the hospital. He was in ICU. He’d suffered a heart attack. Not a good one either. Apparently, they were amazed he was still alive. I had grown up in a house with the man, but I didn’t know him. All I knew of him was the sermons he preached on Sunday and the times he’d stopped his wife from saying hurtful things to me. And when she had beaten me, he had stopped her when he’d caught her.
Then two months ago he had given me an apartment and car and a chance at a life by sending me away. It had been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. But he hadn’t hugged me when I left. He hadn’t stood at the door and waved like a parent would as I drove away. He hadn’t even been there the day I left. He had gotten up and gone to the church office without a good-bye.
But now he was in the hospital. I was his only living family . . . if that was even what I was. I was his ward, or I had been his ward for nineteen years of my life. His mother had passed away when I was ten.
She had never come around or spoken to me. His father had died when Pastor Williams was a boy. I only knew that from a sermon he had given. Everything I knew about his life, the rest of his congregation did too.
“Blythe, I’ll stay with you. It’s okay. He made it. That’s something. He is a tough guy,” Linc said, reaching over to squeeze my hands.
Confused, I turned to look at him. And he frowned and touched my cheek. “You’ve been crying pretty hard. I shouldn’t have told you over the phone. I didn’t . . . Dad didn’t think you were very close to him. I’m so sorry.”
I had washed my face after Linc had called about Pastor Williams. He had asked if I wanted to go to South Carolina, and I’d said yes. I wanted to go. Not because I needed to see Pastor Williams, but because I needed to get away. This was an excuse to clear my head. It sounded cold. But what was I supposed to feel? I didn’t really know the man. Anyway, my eyes were swollen and bruised-looking from the vomiting and sobbing.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. It wasn’t—” I stopped myself. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about Krit. I couldn’t handle it yet. Talking about it would make it worse. “I’m fine,” I repeated instead.
Linc’s phone lit up. He glanced down and muttered something. Then he glanced at me. “I gotta take this or she’ll keep calling.”
She who? I wondered, but I just shrugged.
“Hey,” he said. “No, uh, I’m having to take a friend to see her father. He’s in the hospital.” I stiffened. I didn’t refer to Pastor Williams as my father. “Yeah, I will. No, I’ll be in a hospital. Let me call you.” He sighed, pulled over into a shopping center parking lot, and parked behind a Starbucks. Then glanced at me. He mouthed, Be right back, then climbed out of the car.
I watched as he argued, or at least it looked like he was arguing, with whoever was on the phone. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. I was tired. My body was tired. This day had started out perfect. But I didn’t end perfect. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to think I could keep it.
Krit had been my perfect. He had marked me. Yet again. I had been molded by life. He had shown me what it felt like to belong. I would cherish that memory, and I would love him for the rest of my life. No matter what happened or where we both ended up, my heart would belong to him.
But I had been an unwanted child. I knew what that felt like. How lonely and painful it was. No kid deserved to feel that way. Every child deserved parents. If I stayed with Krit, there was a chance he wouldn’t allow himself to accept his baby. And that baby deserved to have its daddy. And if I stayed with him, I would be in the way. When he went to Britt to help with the baby, I would be alone. They would be bonding over their child, and I would be something hindering them.
The car door opened, and Linc climbed back in. “Sorry about that,” he said, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Want me to swing by the drive-thru and get us a coffee? I think I could use one.”
“Yeah, I could use one too,” I replied as I stared out the window.
* * *
Sometime after three in the morning Linc and I gave up trying to stay awake, and he pulled off onto an exit. We both got our own rooms, and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
KRIT
The apartment was destroyed. I had even smashed the television. I’d slung the end table at it in my fit of rage. I stood among the broken pieces of furniture and felt completely numb. The blood on my knuckles was crusted over. I hadn’t taken the time to wash it off after I’d put my fist through the wall three different times.
I had called her all night. Every time it went straight to her voicemail. Her phone was off. I grabbed my phone to try again, and like the other fifty times I had called, it went to voicemail. I had gone after them, but his car was gone. I didn’t know if they went east or west on the interstate. I had tried going east, but after an hour and nothing, I had gone the other way. Stopping, I had called her phone and voicemail. Afraid she was back home, that he hadn’t taken her out of town, I headed back to the apartment and knocked on her door and waited for over fifteen minutes. She never came. She wasn’t there.
“Shiiiiit,” Preston drawled as he walked into the apartment. Turning, I glanced over at Rock, Trisha, and Preston. Green must have called them. He had come home an hour ago and just stared at me.
All I’d been able to say was “She left me.”
Green hadn’t been able to say anything back.
“Oh, Krit,” Trisha said as she walked over pieces of broken table and pulled me into her arms. I went, but I couldn’t lift my arms to cling to her. Trisha was the only one who would know. The last time I had experienced a rage like this was when I’d been told my uncle Mick was dead. He had been the only adult I trusted. The one who was there when I needed him. I had torn our trailer to shreds, smashing everything I touched. My damage hadn’t been this severe though. I was stronger now.
“Dude, this is fucked up. Manda left me once and I was shattered, man, but this . . . Hell, I never smashed up my place.” Preston said.
“Shut up,” Rock ordered him.
“She just needs some time to think. She’ll come back, baby. You’re going to hurt yourself. You can’t react this way. I’ll go with you to get your meds. You can get on them again. I was okay with you not taking them because you’ve been so good for years. Nothing ever got to you so you never lost it. But I think now, until . . . I think you need to take the medication again.” Trisha’s worried tone normally made me feel guilty. Right now I was ripped open.
“I’ve been so mad before, I threatened to rip shit apart. But hell . . . I never actually started ripping shit apart,” Preston said, amazement still in his voice.
“Dude, shut up,” Rock said, shoving him this time before walking over to hand Trisha a small bag. It was from the local pharmacy.
I shook my head and stepped out of my sister’s arms. I wasn’t going back on the meds they gave me for my ADHD, and I wasn’t going to take the damn antidepressants I knew were in that bag. I hated taking those meds. I hated how they made me feel. They changed me. I’d controlled myself for years. I could get control again. I just had to get Blythe back.
“If you don’t take them, then you’re going back to the house with us. Green loves you, but you’re scaring him. He doesn’t know what to do with you. And you’ve got to clean this mess up. Rock brought Preston in case we had to hold you down, but they are also here to help fix this mess. Focus on cleaning up, and we’re gonna help you replace stuff. Especially Green’s stuff. She will come back. She just needs time, baby. She just needs time.”
“I can’t lose her.”
Trisha glanced over at Rock and frowned. Then she squeezed my arm. “I know. She loves you. Anyone could see that. She’ll be back.”
“Have you talked to Britt today?” Rock asked.
I tensed.
“Rock,” Trisha warned.
“He has to be a man, Trish. He’s got a girl pregnant and he has to deal with that, too.”
“If that baby is really mine, then I’ll take care of what’s mine. But Britt hasn’t even brought me proof from the doctor yet. I’m waiting on that.”
Rock nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t trust her anyway. And she’ll be shit for a mom. Kids gonna need you if she is pregnant.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. I hadn’t thought of anything but Blythe.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up. We can talk about it all later,” Trisha said, walking over to Rock.
I reached down and picked up some of the Sheetrock I had busted up. I had done a number on the place. I’d checked out mentally and lost it.
“Maybe you should take a picture of this place and send it to the preacher’s son. Bet he runs like hell,” Preston said as he tossed a piece of wood over into a pile.
“He better run fast” was all I said.
* * *
Green showed back up, and with the four of us working, it took five hours to clean the place out. Rock called a buddy of his that
did Sheetrock to patch the place, and then he took Green to go replace the flat-screen and other necessary pieces of furniture we needed. I gave them my credit card and told them to put everything on there. I wasn’t letting Trisha and Rock pay for my shit.
It was evening by the time we were done and Green was getting ready to head to Live Bay. I couldn’t go. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to go again. He wasn’t complaining. He said they had it under control. I let him deal with it.
Taking my seat at the window, I watched for her to come home. I called her phone again, and her recorded voice came on. I listened to her until the phone beeped, then I hung up. I’d left enough messages. So I sent her a text message instead.
PLEASE was all I could type. Then I hit send.
Chapter Twenty-Two
BLYTHE
The hospital wasn’t somewhere I was familiar with. I had only been inside one once, and it had been this one. I’d had pneumonia when I was eight. I remembered more about going to the hospital than the actual visit. Pastor Williams had taken me. I had been sick for days, but Mrs. Williams was saying that I was being lazy and didn’t want to do my chores.
Then one night I had heard them yelling at each other. It was the first and last time I had ever heard them fight, at least like that. Pastor Williams had come into my room, picked me up, and taken me to the hospital. They had admitted me, and then he had left. A week later he had picked me up, and I had gone home. No one had visited me that week. No one had brought me balloons like the other kids down the hall had been given. It had been just me and the television.
As I walked back through the doors of Token Memorial Hospital, that memory replayed in my head. Pastor Williams had seemed fierce that night. Like he was protecting me. But then he’d left me alone again. Maybe this was a pattern in my life.