Ruthless Bastard (A Dangerous Love Book 3)

by Stacey Kennedy

  Rhett cursed. He rushed after her, the door slamming shut behind him as the brisk winter wind bit his face. Tension sank deep into Rhett’s muscles as he sidled up to her.

  She glanced over at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Walking you home.”

  “Don’t bother,” she snapped. “Your date is waiting for you.”

  Whatever punch she threw at him, he’d take it. A thousand times. As long as it kept her safe. “Your brother will kill me if I don’t walk you home after Dalton’s appearance,” Rhett countered.

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “Whatever.”

  Silence fell between them that was as cold as the bitter air. Stoney Creek’s Main Street was the height of excitement for the small town known for its fresh seafood and gorgeous views of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun had long ago set, the cool east wind cutting through the town as Rhett shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Christmas was still a month away, but the townsfolk had already begun decorating with wreaths on their shop doors and twinkling lights on their signs. The beams of the streetlights caught any snowflakes fluttering to the ground to melt away.

  They strolled past Black Cat’s Cauldron, Remy’s magic shop, walking beneath the wooden sign. The lights were on in the storefront, showing off jars and candles and a broomstick, along with a stuffed cat animal. By the time they passed by Peyton’s lingerie shop, Uptown Girl, Rhett began counting the minutes until he could get away from Kinsley. He liked being near her. Too much. It felt too…good.

  Ten minutes. That’s all he needed to keep this silence going and keep things as casual as possible before he had her home and safe.

  Obviously, Kinsley had other ideas. “I’ve been calling you.”

  “I know.” He’d been dodging her ever since they came home from the tropics.

  He felt her stare on him, but he kept looking straight ahead, hurrying his steps.

  Of course, she didn’t let him off easy. “Is there a reason why you’re not returning my calls, or are you just really milking this asshole vibe?”

  “You know why I’m not indulging this,” he said. Damn, why couldn’t her house be closer?

  “So that’s your plan then?” she asked, quickly catching up to him. “Just ignoring me until I go away?”

  He glanced at her and found that she was scowling at him. Good. Scowling was better than when she looked at him with those sweet eyes that ruined him. “I’m not ignoring you,” he told her. “I’m stopping whatever you think may or may not be there between us.”

  She froze right there on the sidewalk, as the cold air bit Rhett’s skin.

  A beat passed.

  Then, “You’re honestly unbelievable,” she said with a dry snort. She brushed past him and snapped, “Don’t give yourself that much credit, West. You’re not as memorable as you think you are. I haven’t thought about that night once.”

  “Liar,” he mumbled beneath his breath, staring after her. She was all fire blazing down the street, leaving a path of flames behind her. He shouldn’t indulge this, but he couldn’t help himself. “If I’m so forgettable, then why call?”

  “I had to talk to you.” She turned down her street and moved quickly toward her two-story house on the corner.

  The charming yellow brick house had once belonged to her grandparents. When they passed, they left the house to Kinsley’s father, who then gave it to Boone and Kinsley. Boone eventually moved out, leaving it to Kinsley.

  She reached the front porch with black pedestal posts that Rhett had helped paint last year. Before she got to the door, he called out, “Then talk now.” He felt like a dick. He was a dick.

  “The next time I want your opinion of what you think I should do,” she shot back at him, “how about you go fuck yourself first.”

  Dammit. Pissing her off hadn’t been what he wanted. When she reached for the door handle, he raced up the steps and grabbed her arm. “Listen, I’m not good at this shit.”

  “Ya think?” she growled, ripping her arm away. She turned to her door, opened it, then whirled back around. “By the way, Mr. Big Shot, I’m not this teenage girl chasing after you with stars in her eyes.”

  As she was yelling at him, Rhett caught movement in her bay window. He saw more than one shadow, and a sudden realization had him lurching forward to place a hand over Kinsley’s mouth to keep the conversation private.

  He instantly realized his mistake.

  Her eyes were wild with a fury he suddenly feared, and before he had the chance to tell her they were not alone, she bit his hand and sacked him in the nuts with her knee. Light flashed before his eyes as he bent over, wheezing against the pain.

  “I wanted to do this another way,” she yelled at him. “Any other way but how you’re making me do it.” He forced his eyes open and brought his gaze up to hers. The world suddenly stopped moving at the emotion paired with the seriousness in her expression. “I’m pregnant. The baby is yours. That’s why I’ve been calling, you stupid ass!”

  Gasps of shock came from inside the house, and he nearly emptied his guts on her snow-covered porch. He dropped to one knee and placed his hands in the icy snow, easing the cold sweat washing over him that had nothing to do with his testicles being lodged up into his throat.

  A few seconds passed before Kinsley’s eyes slowly widened with awareness. She stepped into her house, flicked on the light.

  A long awkward pause followed.

  Until the bubbly Remy yelled, “Surprise!” And then blew her party horn.

  Still hunched over, now sucking in gulps of air for another reason, Rhett took in the streamers, the HAPPY BIRTHDAY sign strung up in Kinsley’s living room, and the birthday cake on the coffee table. He’d known they were throwing her a surprise party tonight. He’d been told the party was at Boone’s. Plans must have changed. He glanced at Asher, finding his friend’s mouth wide open. Peyton’s hazel eyes flickered between him and Kinsley. And then Rhett felt the weight of two gazes on him burning with anger that suddenly made his skin flush hot. Boone and Hank, Kinsley’s father, glared at Rhett like they were coming up with all the ways to kill him. But that was the least of his worries.

  Kinsley was pregnant. A baby…his baby.

  Chapter 3

  Kinsley could sum up the last two weeks in two words: shit show.

  The day the doctor confirmed she was pregnant, she had resorted to calling Rhett, since he’d gone into hiding ever since Boone’s wedding. He’d dodged her calls, so she’d even gone into the police station to talk to him, but he’d avoided her every time. Never, not once, in her life had she ever chased after a guy, especially one that had landed himself at the top of the epic douche bag list. A minute ago, she thought her life couldn’t get any worse. But this, seeing the shock on her brother and her father’s faces, was worse. Her stomach somersaulted, nearly emptying itself all over the floor. Rhett was still on his knees outside, but instead of groaning, he was silent and motionless to the truth she’d hit him with.

  She swallowed the emotion crawling up her throat. This was not how she’d wanted the news to come out. Tension made the air heavy, and the passing silence grew more formidable as the seconds went on. With no way out, she faced her daunting reality, noting the controlled rage simmering beneath the surface on Boone’s and her father’s expressions. They all shared the same quick to smile demeanor, but of course, those smiles were nowhere in sight now. Dad was a bit shorter than Boone, but the air of command he carried always made him seem taller, more authoritative somehow. Especially when he wasn’t happy. Like now. To break through the silence, she forced a smile and asked no one in particular, “You planned a surprise party for me?”

  Peyton finally nodded and broke the ice. “We thought you could use a good surprise.”

  And now, everyone knew why—she was pregnant with Rhett’s baby. Both Remy and Peyton had known about her pregnancy from day one. They had been there when Kinsley had taken the test. “You’re right, I did need a good surprise.” She qu
ickly entered her house, leaving the door open for when Rhett finally picked himself up off the porch. “I actually thought you all forgot today was my birthday.”

  “Never in a million years,” said Remy, glancing between Kinsley and Rhett.

  “I’m so lucky to have you all. Thank you,” Kinsley exclaimed, throwing her arms around Peyton, spying the horribly decorated cake on the coffee table in her living room that resembled nothing in particular. A mouse? A cat? A purse? Who knew? “Did you make the cake?”

  Peyton gave a proud nod. “I think it’s my best one yet.”

  “I bet it’s scrumptious.” Peyton’s cakes always tasted great. They just looked terrible. No one ever had the heart to tell Peyton that, though. “You know I’m going to eat half of that all by myself, right?” Not a lie. She couldn’t stop eating lately.

  “As you should.” Peyton smiled.

  Kinsley turned back to Remy. “And let me guess, you provided all the good juju?” The hints of gingerbread incense were enough to know that Remy was pulling out all her magical guns for this party. She probably had some orange peel tea around somewhere for luck for the year ahead.

  Remy smiled, bright and tight, obviously trying to salvage the party she’d planned. “Girl, your house is now stuffed full of so much positive energy.”

  Kinsley almost snorted. Right now, the energy in the room lingered between shock and confusion, with a strong undercurrent of anger. But Remy was a ball of sunshine—who was Kinsley to say that she was wrong and dampen all that warmth. Now, armed and ready to face the music, she glanced at the men in her living room, and immediately gave a dry laugh. “By the looks of all of you, I think we need the biggest dose of positivity we can get right now.”

  No response. Not any movement.

  Kinsley lifted her brows. “Anyone got anything to say?”

  Silence.

  She loosened a breath. “All right, so here’s the thing. I’m beyond grateful that you planned this party for me, and I love you all like crazy, but honestly, this day has been absolute shit. And since you all know that I’m pregnant, I can tell you that I’ve barfed my brains out ten times today. What I need more than anything else right now is my bed.” She glanced back at Remy and let her guard down, showing Remy everything she was feeling. Everything felt raw. Most of all, her heart. “Would you hate me if I went and crawled into bed?”

  Remy’s eyes saddened but she shook her head. “Totally fine. We’ll do a dinner together another night. No worries.”

  “Dinner sounds really, really nice.” She gave Peyton and Remy quick kisses on their cheeks, then turned toward Remy’s husband, Asher. His soft eyes held hers, radiating the warmth she’d grown to expect from him. He was a good friend not only to her brother, but to her. “Thanks for coming tonight,” she told him.

  “Happy Birthday, Kins.” His hair fell over his brow when he reached down and took her into his embrace. When he released her, he added with a smile, “And congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled back, and that smile felt a little more real.

  Before she could even get to Boone, her brother grabbed her hand, tugging her into his arms. “I thought there was something different about you these last couple of weeks, but I couldn’t figure it out. I thought you had your hair done differently or something.” His laugh brushed over her as he released her, his smile tender. “I’m gonna be an uncle, huh?”

  She nodded.

  He winked at her. “Surprising news, but you always do seem to keep us on our toes. You know we’re here for you.”

  Emotion climbed up her throat again. She clamped down against it and the tears welling in her eyes. “I know, thank you.”

  “You’ll let me know if you need me?”

  “Always do,” she told him.

  “Good.” He stepped away.

  Then she found herself under her dad’s wise gaze. He pulled her into his strong and comforting arms. Any control she had over her emotions vanished. The day had been too much. Holding on to this news had been too much. There was all this love around her and yet all this uncertainty. She broke, a whimper spilling out as tears rolled down her hot cheeks in the safety of his father’s hold.

  She was on the pill. Rhett had worn condoms every time. They’d taken every precaution for this not to happen, but somehow, it did. Of all the dreams she had of becoming a mother, none of them included having a man at her side that didn’t want to be there. She was far past hoping Rhett would come around. After the first time he dodged her call, she was more than annoyed with him. From that day on, her attention turned to finding a way to tell him about the baby. What happened tonight, it hadn’t been how she’d wanted him to find out, but his arrogance, and his belief that she couldn’t control herself around him, made her blood burn. The jerk.

  “Ah, kiddo, none of that now.” Dad’s rumbly voice spilled over. “Everything’s gonna be all right.”

  She stayed put, letting him hold her and make this all better for a minute. She had never been an emotional person, but pregnancy had done strange things to her hormones. Lately, she cried over commercials.

  Dad eventually pressed his lips to her forehead then gave her a level look. “We always get through, don’t we?”

  She wiped her tears. “Yeah, we do.” Because they had to. Mom left Dad when Kinsley was six years old. In every one of Kinsley’s memories, her mother didn’t want the small-town life Stoney Creek offered. So she left them and moved to California. There, within a handful of years, she found herself a new husband and had two more kids, and Boone and Kinsley no longer mattered. Boone had made peace with their mother, but even when her mother had tapped her on the shoulder at Boone and Peyton’s wedding like she had the right to and then said, “Kinsley, please stop shutting me out,” Kinsley did not want to talk to her. Ever. That would never change. Mothers shouldn’t abandon their kids. Some things were unforgivable.

  When Dad finally stepped away, Kinsley felt a small measure of relief rush over her. Everyone knew about the baby now, but the heaviness at her back told her that things were more complicated than ever. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, picking up the cake, along with a plastic fork, before heading for the foyer. “I’ll be in bed, eating my emotions.”

  * * *

  War, Rhett could handle. But a baby?

  The world had shaken beneath him the moment Kinsley hit him with the news. He’d replayed the words in his head over and over: I’m pregnant. The baby is yours. He had seen the condom wrappers on the resort room floor, and yet he also didn’t doubt her. She wouldn’t dream of having a child with him; no one would. He eventually pushed up from the porch and stared into the fury in Hank and Boone’s faces. Then with his balls still lodged in his throat, he walked away. Anything he said then would have been wrong. He’d seen the pain in Kinsley’s eyes. Pain he’d caused. He strode back to his truck at the police station on Main Street, the brisk east wind cutting through him. Once in his truck, he drove to the one place that grounded him.

  Home.

  He’d bought his parents’ house from them when they moved away to Wisconsin for his father’s new job. They’d inherited the property from his maternal grandparents and they’d given it to him for a steal. The twelve-hundred-square-foot bungalow wasn’t anything spectacular, but the view was what made the property priceless. He pulled into his driveway then immediately stepped on the breaks. Hard. In the middle of his gravel driveway stood a doe, her eyes glowing under the beam of his headlights. Yeah, he felt a little like that too. Dazed, for sure.

  He slowly lifted his foot off the break, inching his way forward, and the doe quickly took off into the forest. He parked his truck in the circular driveway and headed for the back door. The night was still and silent around him. Once inside, he flicked on the lights as he entered through the small kitchen and dropped his keys on the worn oak counter. By the time he grabbed the whiskey bottle from his grandfather’s old liquor cabinet in the living room and headed outside, he was
barely thinking anymore, only needing air and alcohol to numb the raging rawness in his chest.

  The property sat atop a cliff, and Rhett headed straight for the left side, going down the staircase lit up with solar lights that led to the beach. When he hit the sand, the half-frozen water and starry sky greeted him, and he quickly built himself a campfire before plopping his ass in the Adirondack chair that he kept there. He took two big gulps of the whiskey, the warmth of the liquid burning in his gut. Only then could he breathe fully.

  A baby? With Kinsley?

  When he raised the bottle to his lips again, his mind drifted and went back to the place that made sense.

  The sun began to set over the forbidding mountains, giving a slight reprieve to the brutal heat soaking Rhett in sweat, but the constant screaming and echoing of gunfire remained. As part of the Army Rangers, they’d been deployed on a top-secret mission to capture a high-value target, though upon arriving at the town tucked away in the treacherous mountains, they were surrounded by enemy forces and immediately under rapid gunfire. Rhett kept his gun aimed, his focus steady, and fired bullets, watching bodies drop. He never looked at their faces. Never made it personal. This was a job.

  His fellow Rangers stayed close, tucked safely behind boulders while they fired.

  Rhett felt a body fall next to him, heard the roar of pain. He reached out, grabbing his buddy Matthews by the vest and yanking him back behind the boulder. After a quick assessment, he grabbed Matthews’s hand. “Got shot in the thigh.” He squeezed his hand around Matthews’s leg. “Don’t let go.”

  Matthews nodded quickly. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.”

  Rhett took aim again and saw the enemy forces moving higher up the mountain. Hundreds of them, compared to the ten in Rhett’s crew. He shut his eyes, knowing perhaps this time, death had come calling.

  Until he heard the sound of fighter jets overhead, followed by explosions rocking the ground beneath him.

  Rhett blinked, staring into the crackling fire. After serving in the Army Rangers for twelve years, he’d retired with a medical discharge after an M60 machine gun, 7.62 NATO caliber, tore into his shoulder. He ran his hands through his hair and drew a deep breath. Pride filled him. He’d kept his brothers safe, but war was war, and it wasn’t pretty. The things he saw came home with him, and there was no fixing that, but that life, that purpose, made sense.