I think my mom named me Stevie hoping I would magically become a talented singer. No such luck. I loved music. It was hard not to in my house, but it was really my parents’ passion. Although after losing dad, I thought I’d become a songwriter or producer in his honor.
“Stevie Janis Colvin!” I cringed as she invoked my full name. She had really hoped I would become a singer.
Tossing the blankets back, I shuffled out of bed, rubbing my face, and stumbling down the hallway. The southern heat adhered my boy shorts and tank to my skin. New York summers were humid, all the heat collecting in the buildings and cement, but southern humidity was more possessive, as though it had to own your soul as well as your body.
“Hey, Hendrix.” I stroked the large, fat tabby cat sitting on the chair next to mine at the dining table. My dad named the cat, the only other male in the house, although it was “fixed.” He followed my father around like a shadow. Hendrix was as chill as you got, but even he barely got up from Dad’s favorite recliner after Dad’s death. He slept there most of the time and since then it had become Hendrix’s chair. He kind of ruled the house.
He purred, butting his head into my hand, my fingers running over his silky fur.
“There’s an antique show today.” Mom smiled, setting down my plate of Dutch babies in front of me. “You want to come with me?”
Groaning, I picked up the syrup, pouring it over the golden dream on my plate, my mouthwatering. “No, thanks.” I licked my fingers and picked up my fork. “Plus, you know I came home early because Krista’s baby is in the hospital.” Actually, I should check to see if there was an update. Where the hell was my phone? I was so exhausted when I got home, I couldn’t remember where I put it. By now I could have a zillion messages from Whiskey.
“Do you even know this Krista?” Mom put her hand on her hip, eyeing me carefully. “Why have I not heard about her until now?”
“Oh, she’s really a friend of Hunter’s, but you know, I’ve gotten to know her.” And still don’t like her. I bit into the sweet breakfast, moaning with ecstasy. These Dutch babies were far superior to pancakes.
“Okay.” She nodded, but I felt her disappointment like a fork to my gut. “I’ll call Della to see if she wants to come with me.”
Della was a friend she met after my father’s death, the epitome of everything Mom used to hate. Della lived in one of those cookie-cutter boxes enforced by society. She was a gossiping, bored housewife who said “bless your heart” before ripping the person to shreds, demeaning them and suggesting whatever they did was wrong. When I heard her talking about Jaymerson awhile back, saying she was a tramp who went after another woman’s man, that after the accident the girl never had been “right,” I about lost it. I hated Della, and I hated who my mom turned into when around her.
Mom was way older than Jaymerson’s parents, but I kept thinking her grandma, Penny, could be a good influence on my mom. Penny had finally caved and moved here and already had formed a group of peers who were always traveling or getting into trouble. I adored the woman.
Mom strolled into the kitchen, grabbing something off the counter. “Here, you left it on the table last night. It’s been buzzing since early this morning.”
“What?” I choked, popping out of my seat. “And you tell me now?”
She pursed her lips, busying herself in the kitchen. She probably was hoping I’d agree to spend the day with her before telling me that bit of info. I swiped up my cell to see my screen light up with over a dozen texts and missed calls.
I hit the first text from Jaymerson early this morning.
“Give me a call. It’s bad.”
“Shit!” I hit the re-call button.
Two rings later Jaymerson’s tired voice greeted me. “Hey, Stevie.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Are you in town?”
“Yes. Arrived last night. Well, technically early this morning.”
“Can you come to the hospital?”
“Whiskey, what happened? Is the baby all right?”
“Just come here. I need you here.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Thanks.” Jaymerson sighed. “And to answer your question. No…the baby’s not okay.”
Chapter Three
Climbing out of the Uber, I scrambled for the entrance of the hospital. We only had one car and Mom needed it today.
As I stepped through the doors, chills ran down my spine, my lungs clenching. This was where they brought my father. The last time I saw him, he was hooked up to machines and IVs, already brain-dead. My mind filled with images of him lying in bed, a tube shoved down his throat, to keep him “alive.” But my father was gone. His face had appeared more like a mask, a caricature of the sweet, loving man who was once full of life.
Mom and I held his hands as they removed his life support, watching him not fight as he slipped away. His lungs not taking a breath on their own.
I rubbed my head, shaking it back and forth. I didn’t know if it was to sweep away the memories, or a denial that my dad was gone.
I was grateful to go to the other end of the hospital, to the maternity ward, which produced life instead. Though, this section creeped me out just as much. Babies and I didn’t really go together. They were great if you wanted them, but I wasn’t sure I did. I didn’t like committing to the names of people I’d been with, much less an actual human who stayed. I even seem to be losing interest in monikers for them now. Besides, I couldn’t keep houseplants alive, and seeing a stroller heading my way made me want to drive roll into the nearest alley. Society still thought something was wrong with you if you didn’t have them. Guess what? Not all women wanted children.
“Stevie!” Jaymerson’s voice flowed down the hall, her face like a theater mask, happiness and sadness playing over her features at the same time. She jogged toward me. Even though she was like a sister to me, I could still appreciate how beautiful she was. Five-foot-four with long chestnut brown hair you wanted to run your fingers through, the exact color of a darker barreled whiskey, and gray-blue eyes that revealed a wisdom beyond her twenty years. She wore jean shorts and a simple tank; her flip-flops thundered against the vinyl tile.
Seeing her was balm to my twisted soul. My dad believed in past lives. That there were people you’d run into who you felt as though you knew forever, because you probably knew them in another life. A connection that went past explanation. I felt that with her.
“Hey, Whiskey.” I wrapped my arms around her tiny figure, squeezing her in close, catching sight of Hunter, who strolled up behind her. Six-four, with vibrant blue eyes, the boy was built like a god. Broad shoulders, ripped abs and arms, and an ass you wanted perch things on to see if they could stand by themselves. Tattoos ran down his arm, and he wore a grin that always suggested he was up to trouble. “There’s the old sagging ass.” I pulled away from Jayme and went straight into Hunter’s arms.
“Mine still has a lot less mileage than yours,” he chuckled, my bones cracking under his tight hold.
“True.” I leaned back, winking. His blue eyes held none of the usual humor. “So…what’s going on? You wouldn’t say.” I stepped back, peering back and forth between Jayme and Hunter.
“She’s alive.” Jayme swallowed, her hands twisting around the other.
“That’s not giving me much confidence, Whiskey. Spit it out.”
“We’re only getting bits and pieces right now. The doctors discovered the hole is bigger than they first thought, and they wanted to wait to do surgery later today to let Emlyn’s body calm down. I guess she got super stressed yesterday. But early this morning, she had what the nurse said was similar to a ministroke or something. She’s in surgery now.” Jayme ran the feather necklace Hunter gave her steadily back and forth across her lip.
“What?” My mouth dropped. “Sounds life threatening?”
“Yes.” Jayme rolled back her tense shoulders. “Becau
se she is so little and weak, she’s not bouncing back like other babies. They didn’t want to do surgery this soon on her, but…”
“Shit.” My lungs fluttered, making me gasp for air. I may not care for the baby’s mom, but I couldn’t help but feel a wave of sympathy for her and what it must be like to hear that news, and for the innocent baby, already experiencing the harshness of life.
“Hunter?” A guy’s voice came from behind, directing our attention to him. Jones stood back in the doorway to the waiting room. “Hey, Stevie.” Jones flicked his head at me, expression grave. His reddish-blond sideburns were the only hair you ever saw because his head was always covered with his standard black flat-brimmed hat. He looked a lot more toned under his long shorts and black T-shirt, as if he had been hitting the gym. He was the kind of guy who grew more attractive the more you knew him. He was someone I would have totally been friends with in high school but never noticed because I liked the really fucked-up ones. With his tattoos, big disc earrings, and stud in his chin, he might look like a rebel, but the guy was actually the glue of this group.
“Hey, Jones.” I tipped my head back at him. He wasn’t someone I hugged, but I did consider him a friend. I had gotten to know him over the years and had spent a lot of time with him. We could easily hang out but never talked beyond superficial crap.
“The nurse is back with an update.” He thumbed back toward the room.
The three of us rushed back into the waiting room where a pretty, petite Asian woman stood, wearing colorful scrubs, and a stethoscope around her neck. Doug was sitting in a chair near her, scouring his face. He gave me a head flick, the only acknowledgment of my arrival.
“Looking at the X-rays and prepping for surgery, Dr. Nguyen realized Emlyn’s case is even more dire than most. Emlyn is extremely fragile and weak. Her type of congenital heart defect is extremely serious.” She exhaled, as if she’d been awake for a week straight. “The baby is in surgery now. We won’t know anything for a while. Krista asked me to come out and let you guys know. She won’t leave the viewing bay.”
“How is Krista?” Jones asked.
“Scared. Devastated.” The nurse’s mouth turned down in sorrow. Her name tag read: Tam. “Her boyfriend has been a great. Won’t leave either of their sides for a moment.”
“Boyfriend?” Doug snorted, brushing back his shoulder-length brown hair. “He’s nothing more than a sperm donor. A broken condom mishap.”
“Oh.” The nurse, Tam, shifted on her feet, uncomfortable. Leave it to Doug to cut right to the awkward truth. I was blunt, but Doug had absolutely no filter. He was like a child in a way—simple, sweet, and to the point. I had known him since high school. He was a year or so ahead of me before he dropped out. Never really thought about him much until I started hanging out with Hunter’s group. Good guy and I grew to adore his candor.
I found it interesting Jason McKee was here with Krista. I knew he was the baby’s daddy, but I thought he wasn’t capable of treating her any better than Colton had, as a dirty mistake. He was rich and arrogant enough that if he claimed she was lying, the whole town would believe him. Another football star everyone put on a pedestal.
“Is there anything we can do?” Jayme tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“No.” The nurse shook her head. “I’d say right now, go home, get some rest.”
We all nodded as the nurse turned, leaving us in silence.
“Megan has been texting me nonstop.” Hunter pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Really?” Jones frowned, peering down at his own phone, forehead creases deepening as in irritation.
“Yeah, I told her we’d come watch Cody so she could be here for Krista. But I’ll tell her we’re all heading back now.”
“I’ll do it,” Jones offered quickly. “You need to go deal with that other problem.”
“Yeah.” Hunter dipped his head. “I’ll do that on the way back to Krista’s house. Jayme and I are going to stay there until we know what’s going on. We want Cody to have the security of his own home. We hope to bring him here tomorrow to see his mom.”
“Your mom’s coming, right?” Doug stood. Tall and lean, but unfit, like me. Doug and I were of the mindset being lazy overruled looking toned. The only exercise I liked was in bed. “Damn, your mom is still so fucking hot.”
“Doooouuugggg.” Jones’s head fell back, his hands clasping his face while Hunter groaned.
“What?” He looked around at all of us. “What did I say? She is.”
“Mothers and sisters are off limits.” Jones crossed his arms in an X. Jones had three older sisters, and only one was married.
“Sister.” Doug’s eyes lit up. “Dude, have I told you Sofie is smokin’?” Doug disregarded what Jones had said, an impish grin growing on his face. “I don’t remember her being that hot before.”
“Doug.” Jones faced him, his expression no longer friendly. “Stay the fuck away from my sister.”
“Hey, man.” Doug held up his hands. “She came into the garage. I didn’t do a thing.”
“You know what I mean. You aren’t allowed to look, think, or speak to her.”
Sofie was the middle of Jones’s older three sisters. Four years older than Jones, she had been in my grade, and if I remembered, really pretty. A single mom, she had only had one kid, one of the two prized boys in that clan. The eldest sister had three kids, the youngest sister had two.
A lot of frickin’ rug rats.
Doug rolled his eyes, about to respond, when Hunter interrupted, “Guys, let’s talk about this shit later. And yes, my mom’s flying in tomorrow. She wants to be with Cody. Spoil him rotten.”
I didn’t doubt Julia Harris would do just that. Since her divorce from Hunter’s asshole father, Mitch, her luxury lifestyle took a hit. From what Jayme told me, she was enjoying her simple life. She had a small house near her sister, traveled, and made all new friends as she found out who she was as her own person, not a trophy wife. Therapy from her suicide attempt helped her begin to accept Colton’s death and see what she had, not what she’d lost.
“I’ll text you guys later.” Hunter turned for the exit. Jaymerson and I said goodbye to the boys, following Hunter out toward the parking lot.
“Did you drive?” Jaymerson asked.
“No, I took an Uber. Mom needed the car.”
“Want to come with us?”
“Sure.” I had no reason to go home, and catching up with them was the main reason I came back. “Are we going to some crazy belated party for the birthday boy?” I winked at Hunter.
Hunter lifted one eyebrow. “Yeah, a party where you only need to wear your underwear, can pee in your pants, toss food onto the floor, and watch cartoons.”
“Damn…” I blinked. “That sounds exactly like my last birthday.”
Both Jaymerson and Hunter laughed, lightening the tense mood.
“Just going to make a stop first.” He glanced back at Jaymerson. They shared a look, which made my stomach twist.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Jaymerson dug for the keys in Hunter’s pocket as we reached her jeep, then jumped into the driver’s seat.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Hunter laughed and tipped the seat forward for me to crawl into the back. Once I settled, he grinned like a naughty boy. “Because you’re smart.”
I tilted my head. Normally I was game for anything, but I had a sinking feeling about this.
Hunter climbed into the seat as Jayme started the engine and put the AC on full blast.
“Where are we going?” I popped my head between them, feeling the delicious cold air skate down my tank and cool my skin.
“Some place just as twisted as you.”
Shit, that left a lot of options.
None of them good.
Chapter Four
Whiskey turned down a street, one I had been down far more times than I should have in the past. My stomach plunged as I realized exactly why my frie
nds had been so cagey.
“No.” Despite the cool air, sweat lined my forehead and neck. “You wouldn’t do this to me…”
Jayme’s gaze in the rearview held barely a smidge of remorse.
“Whiskey. Girl.” I grabbed her seat, pulling myself forward. “I thought you liked me?”
“Clearly not.” She grinned with a shrug, gliding the jeep into the apartment building’s guest parking. Flashes of the times I parked in this exact spot as I tried to forget the giddy sensation bouncing around like a hyper two-year-old at the thought of seeing him.
“Girls before bros? Chicks before dicks? The girl code,” I exclaimed, while Hunter tried to hide his smile. “Does it mean anything to you?”
“Not a bit.” She winked at me. “Because with you it’s also dudes before vaginas as well. Too many rules…”
“You are not funny,” I growled.
She got out of the car, looking back at me. “You can stay here in the boiling car—”
“Will you leave the keys?”
“No.”
“What?”
“You’ll drive off.”
Damn. “I taught you well.” I slumped back in the seat.
“Stevie.” She pushed her sunglasses onto her head. “Either you stay here, taking the juvenile road, or you buck up, come with us to visit a friend, and be an adult.”
“Oh, you can’t trick me with that.” I stabbed a finger at myself. “I don’t want to be an adult.” My head shook violently as I cemented myself to the backseat, as though it could protect me. Yes, I knew I was being immature. It wasn’t a stretch for me. This boy brought out such a deep sense of panic in me, I felt like a cat thrown in water.
Twisted Love (Blinded Love Series Book 3) Page 3