Wild Flame (The Wild: A Rock Star Romance Book 2)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  He stares at me. “You think I’d walk away from my child? Just abandon it like it means nothing to me?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying—”

  “It is!” he shouts, a vein threatening to pop out in his forehead. “It’s exactly what you’re saying. You’re basically admitting you would’ve walked away from it too.” He shakes his head. “It pisses me off beyond measure you’ve ignored me, pushed me away, and couldn’t give me the common courtesy of being involved in this.”

  “I’m involving you now,” I defend, my voice broken.

  “Would you have? If I hadn’t kept pressuring you?”

  “Yes, I swear. I wasn’t going to hide this from you forever.”

  “The fact you hid it from me at all is appalling, Kira. I thought I knew you—maybe not your inner most thoughts, or your past, but I still thought I knew you. Now, I’m not sure of anything.”

  I stand up, my hands held out in front of me pleadingly. “I didn’t plan this, or want a baby, and I was scared. Can you really fault me for being scared?”

  “I can fault you for lying to me, for keeping me away.”

  “Are you saying you want to be involved? I would never keep this baby from you, but I won’t force it on you either.”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Lowering his hand he looks at me. “I’m … this wasn’t what I was expecting tonight, and I’m confused. I need time to process this.”

  I stare back at him. “I find it funny you need the same thing you’re mad at me for needing.”

  His jaw clenches. “This is a fucking mess. We’re a fucking mess. How can either one of us be a decent parent?”

  I shrug like it’s no big deal, even though this whole thing is life changing. “I’m not claiming I’ll be the best mom ever, but I’ll be the best one I can be and I’ll try my damndest to be even better than I think I can be. The ball’s in your court now, Rush, as to what kind of part you want in this child’s life.”

  He stares back at me, breathing heavily. “I might have my concerns about what kind of father I can possibly be with as fucked up as I am, but I will be there for my child.”

  I swallow thickly, trying to keep my emotions at bay.

  “Prove it.”

  18

  Rush

  Leaving Kira’s I head to the nearest bar.

  I’m already scoring high on this whole dad thing. I’m a real fucking winner.

  Sliding onto a stool I signal the bartender and order a shot of whiskey. Downing it, I ask for another, before switching to beer.

  I wrap my hands around the bottom of the bottle.

  Kira’s pregnant.

  When I came over to her place tonight that was the last news I ever expected to hear. I don’t know quite how to process it, and maybe I was too harsh on her, or possibly not harsh enough.

  I’m hurt, which isn’t something I admit often. I’m hurt that after all the time we’ve spent together, she wouldn’t tell me. I know she has to feel something more for me than she lets on. There’s no way I’m alone in feeling like we’ve grown close.

  But she’s scared, and when she’s scared she pushes people away.

  Me? I drink.

  But I also drink if I’m happy, or stressed, angry—pretty much any emotion is an excuse for me to drink.

  Depending on the mood I’m in, the alcohol either hypes me up or sends me into numbness.

  Lately, it’s only been numbness.

  I pull out my phone and ring the number of the one person I know will always be there for me no matter what.

  “Hello?”

  “I need you.”

  “A bar, man, really?”

  “This is my first beer,” I defend, lifting my beer in the air, not mentioning the two shots of whiskey I had prior. “Sit down.” I pull out the empty stool beside me.

  Cannon shakes his head at me, but takes the seat. I slide the glass of beer I ordered for him in his direction, it’s his favorite, Guinness. I don’t understand the appeal, but what do I know? Apparently I don’t know shit about anything and I’m a worthless human being Kira doesn’t think deserves to know he’s going to be a father.

  “What’s going on? It must be serious if after all I’ve said and done you’re willingly inviting me into a bar with you.” He takes a sip of the Guinness.

  I raise the beer to my lips and set it down, looking straight ahead.

  “Kira’s pregnant.”

  He chokes on the liquid and when I look at him some is dribbling out of the sides of his mouth. The normally calm and capable Cannon looks shocked and entirely frazzled. If I wasn’t in such a bad mood I might smile.

  “She’s pregnant?” I nod in answer to his question. “Like … with a baby?”

  “No, a puppy, you idiot,” I snap, exasperated. I feel strung out, at my wit’s end. “Of course with a baby.”

  “Your baby?”

  “My baby,” I sigh, taking another sip of beer—well, more like a gulp this time.

  “But … how?” he asks.

  “Well, the same way I assume most conceptions happen. I put my cock in her pussy and ejaculated.”

  He smacks the back of my head with his tattooed hand. “I could gather that part, but you always wear a condom, right?”

  I nod. “And she was on birth control.”

  “You don’t think…” he pauses and I shake my head vehemently.

  “No, she wouldn’t do that. Kira was as paranoid about protection as me, and…” I take a moment to gather myself. “She admitted she thought about having it taken care of before she told me.”

  “And by taken care of, you mean?” He raises a dark brow.

  “You know what I mean,” I sigh heavily like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Honestly, it’s exactly what it feels like. Ever since she told me I can’t seem to shake this crushing pressure. “Is it wrong I’m beyond pissed she’d consider … consider…” I close my eyes. I can’t even say the word. “Ending it,” I finally settle on, “without ever telling me? She could’ve done it, never told me, and I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

  Cannon shakes his head. “That’s rough.”

  A hefty sigh leaves me yet again. “I want to be in my kid’s life, but she doesn’t seem to think I’ll show up. She told me to prove it.”

  He shrugs, wiping the condensation off his glass with the back of his index finger. Above, mounted behind the bar, the TV blares obnoxiously. “Then prove it to her.”

  “Maybe it’d be better if I stayed away,” I muse quietly. “What kind of father could I possibly be? I mean, I want to be there for my kid, I do, but … I’m hardly the best role model.”

  “We can always change,” he reasons. “We’re always evolving—maybe it’s time you focused on being the best version of yourself you can be.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  He raises his pierced brow. “Whatever you want it to mean, I guess.”

  I scrub my hands over my face. “I don’t know if I can change,” I mutter solemnly, resigning myself to my miserable no-good existence.

  He looks at me sadly. “You can. Anybody can change. You only have to decide if you want to. As long as you don’t want to better yourself, you’ll continue down this path—and I guarantee you, if you do, you won’t have anything to do with your kid. Kira probably wouldn’t let you and I can’t say I’d blame her. Clean up your act, Rush. You’ve already done a pretty damn good job of it since we got here, but there’s one major thing you have to accept.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, but I’m afraid I already know his answer.

  “You have to admit you’re an alcoholic and take the steps to stop.”

  “I’m not an alcoholic,” I defend vehemently. “I like to drink, so what?”

  He sighs wearily, his eyes narrowed. “You’re my best friend, and it makes me sad you can’t see what you are. I guess most addicts can’t.”

  I bristle at hi
s words.

  “I don’t say this to hurt you, or make you angry, I’m saying this because you’re more than a friend, you’re practically my brother, and it kills me watching you poison yourself. Kira’s pregnant now, you’re going to be a dad no matter what, but you have to decide what kind of dad you’ll be.”

  He stands up, finishes the last of his beer, and slaps some bills on the table to cover the tab.

  “Come back to the hotel with me. Don’t sit here alone and drown in misery.”

  I shake my head. “It’s what I do best.”

  He exhales an angry breath. “I don’t know what more I can say to you.”

  “Then stop talking.”

  “You asked me to come here, remember? Don’t snap at me for trying to be your friend. It’s been eight years since your parents died. Don’t you think it’s past time you dealt with it?”

  He doesn’t wait for me to answer and a second later the door closes behind him.

  I close my eyes and groan. I don’t know why it is I constantly push the people closest to me away, the only people I have left in this world are ones I love. I believe Cannon is only trying to look out for me, I do, but I don’t have a problem and that’s where he’s wrong and can’t get it through his thick head.

  Maybe I haven’t dealt with my parents’ death, but I’m not an alcoholic.

  I don’t have to drink. I can stop any time.

  I finish the beer I ordered and head out.

  It’s the first week of March and the air is still way too fucking cold for my liking. I miss the warmth and clear blue skies. Ever since November this ugly ass gray sky has descended on Virginia and it’s fucking depressing.

  I walk with my hands buried in the pockets of my warm coat.

  Mom, tell me what to do? I plead. Give me some kind of advice. A sign. Anything.

  But like always, there’s nothing—nothing but the twinge of disappointment I know she must feel if she can see me now.

  My parents would’ve been the best fucking grandparents ever. Now, my child will never know them. What’s worse is, will my child even want to know me? All the videos that exist on the internet of my past escapades are damning. What kind of child would want me as their father?

  Sadly, I understand why Kira wanted to assure me she can do this on her own.

  Heading down the street on the old walking mall I enter the bookstore.

  “Can I help you find anything?” The kind lady behind the counter says, peering at me over the top of her glasses.

  “Yeah,” I breathe, as some of the warmth from the store seeps into me, warming my bones. “I need any kind of books you have on babies.”

  “What’s that?” Cannon asks suspiciously as I enter the suite with two bags in hand.

  “Here, take a look.” I carry one over to him where he sits on the couch.

  He takes it and peers inside reluctantly like he’s afraid something is going to jump out from it and bite him.

  “Baby books?” He looks mystified, and perhaps a smidge proud.

  “If I’m going to be a dad, I have to know how to take care of the kid, right?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fox chants, sitting up from where he was reclined in the chair reading a Captain America comic book. “Did you just say you’re going to be a dad? Where the fuck have I been? What year is it?”

  Cannon laughs, and it’s genuine, not forced. Even the dimples he has make a rare appearance. “He just found out today.”

  Fox turns accusing eyes onto Cannon. “You knew? Nobody tells me shit.”

  “Sorry, man,” I say, truly meaning it. “I just found out a couple of hours ago. If it makes you feel better Hollis doesn’t know yet.”

  He smiles, picking his comic book back up. “I do feel better.”

  I take the bag back from Cannon and give both a shake. “I’m going to go read.”

  As I turn toward my room I hear Fox mutter, “I didn’t know he could read.”

  “I heard that,” I say back.

  “I meant for you to,” he cackles.

  Friends, the people who are there for you through thick and thin, but also know how to roast you unlike any others.

  19

  Kira

  “I told him,” I confess to Mia, shoveling a forkful of salad into my mouth.

  I hate salad—loathe it, actually. Does anyone actually enjoy feasting on pieces of lettuce?

  But, I’m trying to be healthy for the baby—and I guess me too, but mostly the baby.

  Mia’s eyes widen at me across the lunch table in the university’s cafeteria. I begged her to meet me, because this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have through text message, or over the phone, and definitely not at The Sub Club when we work this afternoon.

  “You actually told him like you said you were going to? Wow, I’m impressed. If I was betting on it, I would’ve said you’d chicken out.”

  I throw a piece of lettuce at her. “Have some faith in me.”

  She flicks the piece of lettuce back toward me from where it landed beside her tray of delicious looking pizza.

  God, I’d kill for some pizza. Why’d I get a salad? Oh, right—healthy. What a load of garbage.

  “How’d he take it?” she asks.

  I lift my shoulder indifferently. “Better than I thought, I guess. He seemed to be more upset with me for not telling him sooner.”

  “Understandable,” she interjects.

  “He said he needs time to process. Maybe he’ll see where I was coming from.”

  I hope.

  It’s a scary thing learning your life is going to completely change. I’m only twenty-one—I’ll be twenty-two in June—and a baby … I’ll never be able to go back to how I lived my life before.

  “Do you think he’ll be a part of things?” she asks, and I might drool a bit as she chews a bite of pizza.

  “He said he wants to be, but we’ll see.”

  “You’re doubtful,” she states.

  I spear another piece of nasty looking lettuce—it’s not that salad has ever done anything to personally offend me … except exist.

  “I mean—we agreed to a sex only relationship, and yeah we started growing closer, but at the end of the day he’s a player, a partier, and a drinker. Not exactly the dad type.”

  She snorts. “You’re all those things too—maybe not to his extent,” she defends when she notices I’m about to protest, “but you can’t deny you like to go out and have a good time.”

  “I don’t see Rush growing up and rising to the occasion,” I admit. “It’s okay if he doesn’t. When I decided to keep the baby it was with the assumption I’d be raising it on my own. I refuse to constantly rely on a man like my mother. I’m strong enough to take care of myself and my child.”

  She smiles at me. “Yes, you are.” Reaching across the table she grabs my hand. “I really am proud of you.”

  “For what?” I blink stupidly at her.

  Around us conversation stirs in the air, but it feels as if nothing else exists outside of our conversation. I’m tuned in to her every word.

  “For realizing you’re not your mom.”

  My throat feels tight, but I nod. I’m not her. I’m me—a person of my own making whom I choose to be. Just because she birthed me doesn’t mean I’ll be as miserable and shitty as she was, jumping from man to man, never caring how they treated her. I begged her many times to let them go, to stand on her own two feet—to let me be enough for her as her child, but I wasn’t what she wanted. They were—and it’s time I realized those actions define her not me.

  “I’m not,” I echo.

  She releases my hand and wiggles around in her seat. “I still think you should go see her, get some closure or something.”

  Panic threatens to wash me away. “I can’t.”

  There were good times with my mom, sure, but for the most part all she did was hurl hurtful things my way. Any time something went wrong in her life—like one of her boyfriend’s hit her, or my dad sh
owed up unexpectedly, or even if she didn’t have clean underwear—it was always my fault.

  “Kira Elizabeth Marsh! Can you not do anything right? You’re pathetic. Sometimes I wonder why I ever I wanted a child. I’d be better off without your baggage.

  The one thing I never told her was how I knew I would’ve been better off without hers.

  Being loved by a monster isn’t truly being loved at all.

  It’s only a curse, one that seems impossible to break when the monster is your own flesh and blood.

  I won’t be that to my child, and I won’t let Rush either.

  I believe in my heart Rush is a good person. The way he took care of me when I was sick is proof of that, but I can tell there are demons of his he’s never taken care of, ghosts that haunt him the way mine have haunted me. This baby is already teaching me to love myself, to let shit go, but I don’t know if it can do the same for him.

  “Is it time to go home yet?” I ask Mia in a whiny tone. “My feet are killing me.”

  We’ve been making sandwiches and tending to customers for hours. All I want to do is go home and fall asleep in my bed—I’m not sure there will even be time to change out of my clothes.

  “One more hour until close,” she tells me reluctantly.

  “I need to find another job,” I mutter.

  The thing I’ve always loved about working at The Sub Club is the flexibility with my schedule. But with school, my time at the hospital spent on my feet, and working here? It’s going to be too much when I start to get huge—but who is going to want to hire a pregnant lady?

  “Like what?” she asks, seeming to echo my thoughts.

  I blow out a breath. “Good question.”

  She gives me a smile. “I’m sure if you really want to work somewhere else, we can find you something.”

  The chime above the door dings and customers stroll in, putting us back to work and out of conversation.

  I’m not even far along in this pregnancy and I already feel more tired every night than I ever have. It’s only going to get worse. Who knew growing a human took so much out of you?