Struck (Flawed Love Book 3)
Page 3
“Yes, Mom, I’ll call you as soon as the doctor has been around.”
“I’m not kidding, Theodore.” My mom just full named me. If I wasn’t trying to get her to take me seriously, I’d laugh at her.
“Seriously, Mom. As soon as he gets his check-up, I’ll call you and Dad right away.” I can practically hear her eyes rolling at me down the phone. “I gotta go. He’s going to be ready for a feed any minute.”
“Okay, sweetie. Give my grandson a kiss for me, please.”
“You know I will, Mom. Speak to you soon.” I hang up before she can get another word in. Tucking my cell into my pocket, I push open the NICU door. It’s been two weeks since I found out about Abel. Two weeks of watching him grow and change right before my eyes.
After explaining the situation to Keir that day, he and Poppy stayed by my side while I spoke with Abel's doctors. They explained that they were happy with his overall health, but he needed time to put on weight and to learn to regulate his body temperature. Abel must have been listening because right from that first day, he’s been growing like a weed.
I’ll never forget the first time they let me hold him. The nurses sat me in a chair next to his crib and told me to take my shirt off before handing me a tiny, sleeping Abel. I don’t think I took a full breath the whole time he was in my arms, scared of the monitors still attached to him.
Feeling his skin on mine was like nothing I’d ever experienced. The only possible way to describe it is that I felt everything holding Abel for the first time. I was terrified of hurting him. Scared of what the future might hold. Could I keep him safe? Be the dad he would need me to be? Bigger than the fear was the overwhelming love, something I had never experienced. Holding him cradled to my chest, I got so fucking mad at myself. Mad at who I had let myself become in the past, at all the stupid mistakes I’d made. One hand holding his diaper-covered butt, the other cradling the back of his tiny head, I could only hope that those days are behind me, that going forward I’ll be a man that one day he’ll be proud of.
Telling my parents was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but I should have known they wouldn’t be anything less than supportive. Mom has been making sure my place is ready for a baby, and I can’t thank her enough because I have no idea what I’m doing.
The nurses in the NICU greet me as I make my way to Abel’s crib. I’ve been here with him every day, only leaving to shower and eat, so I've gotten to know them all pretty well. When I get to Abel, he’s fast asleep. It doesn’t look like he’s moved since I left him an hour ago. He’s grown so much, he doesn’t look like the same baby. His face has filled out, and his round cheeks are so cute. He looks like me. It’s crazy, but he does. Soft, dark hair covers his head, and his gray eyes look like they’re turning a shade of brown, just like mine.
I have no idea what color Willow’s eyes were. The thought is a kick in the junk. I’ve had a lot of time to think about her these last few weeks. I barely remember her. My son was conceived while I was blackout drunk. The very few bits of that night I do remember make my skin crawl. All I have are flashes of memories. My hands touching her, trying to convince myself that she was Lucy. I’ve cycled through hurt, anger, and sadness multiple times, trying to work out why she wasn’t going to tell me about him. I think I understand it, though. Watching my son sleeping without a care in the world, I want his life to be like that for as long as possible. I see it from her perspective. Why would she want some drunk asshole in her baby’s life? No, I can’t be angry at her.
Just myself.
Shame squeezes at my chest.
Before I can fall too far down the self-pity black hole, Abel’s doctor comes in. This is what I’ve been waiting for. They say if he’s put on enough weight, he can come home tomorrow. The thought half terrifies me, but I know we need to get on with our lives. The sooner we get home and settled, the better things will be for both of us.
An hour later and he’s passed all his tests with flying colors. We can go home tomorrow.
I try to pass time by packing up some of his stuff while he’s napping. It’s amazing how much crap one little person needs. I’m almost finished when the door opens, and my brother and his wife walk through. I’m not surprised. Between them and my parents, Abel and I have had visitors every day. Even Lucy has been in to visit. I can’t say it wasn’t awkward as fuck, but right now, all I care about is making sure Abel has what he needs, even if all he needs right now is my time and attention.
“Look at him!” Poppy gushes, leaning over the side of his open top crib. “He looks more and more like Chase every time I see him.”
“That’s because the Harmon genes are strong,” Keir answers, leaning over and kissing Abel on the head.
“Speaking of that little terror, where is my nephew?”
“Your mom called this morning. Said you banned her from coming up here today, and she needed a distraction.”
“So you have a child-free day and you choose to come here?”
“We had an appointment upstairs; this one is determined to be the biggest baby ever born.” Poppy groans as she rubs her hands over her huge belly.
“Not long now.” Keir rubs her shoulder. The easy way they have with each other doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
“What did the doctors say? When is he getting out of here?”
“Tomorrow morning, he’ll be a free man.” The smile on my face is genuine, but he studies me, making sure I'm as happy as I’m saying I am.
“You good?” It’s an innocuous question, but I know he’s asking so much more than if I'm good.
“I’m good.” And for once I'm not lying. My life has been chaos these last two weeks, but Abel has also brought me a sense of calm I’ve not had for a long time. I’ve got something to focus on now.
“Yeah, you are,” he says, pulling me in for a hug and a back slap.
The next morning, as soon as he’s cleared, I’ve got Abel strapped into a car seat. If I thought he looked tiny in a hospital crib, he’s practically disappearing in this seat. He’s barely visible between the blankets tucked tight around him and the hat that’s pulled low on his head.
The nurses have all been stopping by to say goodbye. This kid has made quite an impression on everyone here. My mom and dad are here to help me get him home and settled. They wanted us to stay with them, but I figured we’d be better just getting him home.
A few days after finding out about him, I set my mother the task of finding me a house to move into. The shitty apartment I'd lived in for the last few years is in no way suitable for a kid. My mom lost her mind at me for buying a house without seeing it, but I trust her. Between my friends and family, they’ve got the new place decorated, ready for us to go home to. I’m pretty sure my mom is going to put her foot down and demand to stay with us, at least for a little while. She won’t get an argument from me. I might have been taught how to feed and burp him, keep him clean, the basic stuff. But I’ve no idea how we’ll be when we get home.
No, I’ll take all the help I can get, thank you very much.
Once we’re all packed up, the other parents that are here with their babies make sure to say goodbye to us. It’s strange, but you form a bond with these people. They understand the highs and lows that come with being in here. One of the mothers pulls me in for a hug. “I’m not going to lie, I’m sure going to miss seeing you with no shirt on holding that baby.” A loud laugh burst’s out of me. Lily gave birth to triplets almost three months before their due date. I’ve never seen anything as small as those little boys. She’s also married to a great guy who looks at her like she hung the moon, so I take her words exactly as the joke she meant them to be.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll miss you guys too. Tell Matt to call me when he’s ready for that gym time.”
With our goodbyes said, I carry my son outside for the very first time.
I have no idea what the future holds for us, but for the first time in a long time, I have something to look forward to.
“Fuuuck!” I groan, dropping my head to the steering wheel. This can’t be happening. Not today. Yanking my phone out of my purse, I pray that I remembered to charge it for once.
Six percent. Hell yes.
At least one thing seems to be going my way. Scrolling through my recent call list, I click on my oldest brother’s name. “Come on. Answer please,” I murmur to myself. Looking at the clock, I see it’s almost ten a.m. There’s no way I’m going to be on time now. I just have to try and hope they’ll still see me a little later than we agreed. I’m about to hang up the phone when he answers.
“It’s the middle of the night. What you want?” He sounds like he’s been chewing gravel.
“Asa. It’s ten in the morning.”
“Well, we only just got to bed, so it’s the middle of the night for me.”
“We?” I ask but immediately regret it. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know.” My brother gives new definition to the term man whore. His deep laugh rumbles down the phone, making my lips tip up into a smile.
“No, little sis, you really do not wanna know.”
“One day, big brother. One day you’ll be sorry when you finally meet the one, and you have to explain your man whore ways.”
“You call me to talk shit about my bedroom habits, Breeze? ’Cause, if you’re done, I can think of better ways to spend my morning now that I’m awake—”
“Stop speaking!” I shout desperately into the phone. I do not need to hear this. “My car broke down again.”
“Bree, how many times do I have to tell you to scrap that piece of shit?” Thank god he can’t see my eye roll down the phone.
“I know, I know. It was supposed to go in the garage this week, but ... but I have an interview this morning, and I really want this job.” I beg, “Please, Asa.” I’m giving him puppy dog eyes and a lip pout, even though he can’t see me down the phone.
“Where are you?” He sighs, and I have to stop myself from doing a little dance in my seat as I tell him where I am.
By the time Asa pulls up outside Flex, I’m only twenty minutes late for my interview. Luckily for me he’s still tired, so he’s been quiet for once. I’m sure outside of bedding a new woman every night, my brother’s favorite pastime is riding my ass. He's quiet until the car comes to a stop that is. Before I can get out, his hand clamps down on mine.
“Keys.”
“I’ll sort it once I’m done here.”
“Keys, Breeze. Now.” It’s pointless arguing with him. Asa is the oldest of us Lucas kids at almost thirty, and he’s somehow convinced he needs to play dad to us all. I make a production of slamming my key into his outstretched hand.
“This is the last time I fix that piece of shit for you. Next time I’m scrapping it,” he growls at me.
“You do know I’m not a kid anymore, right? You can’t actually tell me what to do.” I scowl at him. As always, Asa doesn’t even blink at my attitude.
“Start acting like an adult, and maybe you’ll get treated like one sometimes,” he jabs back.
“I am an adult, Asa, you just—”
“You’re a twenty-year-old ‘yoga instructor’ who thinks she can get by on fairy dust and good thoughts.” The cheeky fuck actually air quotes yoga instructor, like there’s something wrong with what I choose to do for work. As much as I want to tell my brother to go fuck himself for his opinion, I don’t. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. I refuse to get into it again with him, especially when I'm already late.
“Let’s not do this again. I don’t judge you for your life choices; do the same for me. Please?”
He stares at me a beat before rolling his eyes. “You totally judge me,” he mutters. He’s right, I do.
“Well come on, you work security at a strip bar!”
“Nothing wrong with that, Bree.”
“It’s called Fuzzy Holes.” I deadpan. “And you sleep with a different stripper every night.”
“It’s not every night,” he returns.
“Doesn’t matter. I still love you, even if you’re a pain in my ass.” I offer him a wide smile, and all I get in return is another unamused stare from him, but it’s not long before he pulls me in for a kiss on my forehead.
“Love you too, Bree. Just want you safe and happy.” Underneath the bad attitude and tattoos, my brother is a teddy bear.
“Dinner soon? I’ll call Av and Beau? It’s been forever since we had family dinner.”
“I’ll call them, set it up when I know my schedule for next week,” he says, and just like that, Asa’s tantrum is done. Until the next time I see him, at least.
Giving Asa a kiss on the cheek, I slam the car door closed before running toward the huge warehouse-style building in front of me.
Flex is huge, much bigger than I imagined. It’s also the fanciest gym in town. The main doors are glass, the gym’s logo etched into them; I don’t want to touch them for fear of getting finger print smudges on them. Inside is just as impressive. The reception desk is massive. Everything is white or glass and super expensive looking. If it wasn’t for the display of protein powders and other muscle crap, it could pass as an art gallery.
When I get to the gleaming white reception desk, it’s empty. Checking the walls for a clock, I don’t find one. I managed to make a quick call to explain I’d be late, but all I got was a voicemail. By now my phone is dead, so I have two choices. I can either stand here like a spare part, or I can go find whoever is supposed to be interviewing me. I figure that as it’s a gym, they won’t mind me wandering around a little.
The huge space is filled with exercise machines but surprisingly few people. There’s an instructor helping a guy work a weight machine, and a few others running on treadmills, but that’s it. Approaching the instructor, I tell him I'm here for an interview and ask if he knows where I should go. His eyes take in my outfit, and it takes everything in me not to squirm under the weight of his stare. My hands itch to pull the hem of my dress down an inch or two. I had no idea what to wear today. I’d assumed yoga pants and a tee, but when I told my sister, Avalon, she lost her mind. So here I am, wearing a floral print dress and sensible shoes. The dress seemed longer when I put it on this morning, but the way this guy is looking at my legs, I’m guessing I went too short.
“Who’d you say was interviewing you?” he asks as he finally drags his eyes up from my legs. He’s a decent looking guy, like a pumped-up all-American boy next door. But the vibes he’s giving off are not at all boy next door.
“The email said a Mr. Harmon? I am a little late, though.”
“If you give me a minute, I’ll walk you down to his office,” Creepy guy offers.
“Just point me in the right direction, I’ll find it.” I smile sweetly, despite wanting to roll my eyes.
Armed with directions on where to find the boss’ office, I hurry to find it. Making my way down the stairs, I’m surprised to see this space is just as big as upstairs, but the vibe down here is very different. There are many more people down here for a start. There’s a small group of guys standing around watching the biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life hit a punch bag with so much force it moves back and forth as if it weighs nothing. There’s also a couple of guys in a massive boxing ring dancing around each other. Two older guys are shouting orders at the fighters as they duck and weave around each other.
I don’t stop to look, just keep my head down and speed-walk toward the doors at the back of the space, exactly where I was told they would be.
There are three doors, none of which have any signs. I knock on the first one, but don’t get a response. The same thing happens with th
e second. As I approach the last door, I notice it’s slightly ajar. I can hear the low murmur of voices from inside, and as much as I don’t want to be rude, I really want this job. I’m about to knock when the voices start getting louder. I should go upstairs to wait, but I don’t get the chance to move before the door swings open further. I step back at the same time a tall blonde woman stalks out. She’s probably very pretty, but right now her face is splotched with red, and she looks like she’s swallowed something nasty.
She barely takes a step out before she changes her mind, swings back around, and shouts into the open doorway.
“Next time you want your dick sucked, don’t call me to do it.” This time she does stomp off, her high heels clattering on the concrete floor.
I’m still staring at her retreating back when the door swings open again. A guy that steps out this time, and my first thought is that he is beautiful. Tall and built and dark. Just beautiful.
He doesn’t even glance my way, just turns to call after the blonde.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t be calling you. You were never very good at it anyway.”
“Whatever you say, gym rat!” She yells, before she flicks him the finger over her shoulder without breaking stride, before she disappears through the doors.
Yikes, it’s like I’ve stepped into the middle of a soap opera. He doesn’t watch her leave; instead, he just turns back toward the office. I draw in a breath, about to speak when he walks straight past me, like I’m not even there. The door slamming causes the breath I was holding to squeak out of me.
Shit.
I really want this job. No, I need this job. I can’t just turn around and walk out of here without at least trying to salvage this interview.
Raising a fist, I give a couple of taps on the frosted glass.
The door doesn't open, but I hear a muted “Fuck off” shouted from inside. His dismissal of me just about pushes me over the edge. I get that I was late, but to completely ignore me, to not allow me the chance to explain, is just plain rude. Especially after the little lovers spat I just had to witness. I know the right thing to do is walk away, the guys who were working out down here are now standing around watching me instead, but my stubborn streak is rearing its ugly head. I’ve had an awful morning. Between my car giving up, Asa being a pain in my ass, and being late, I’m fresh out of patience right now.