Fight 3

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Fight 3 Page 4

by Dauphin, M


  Shit.

  I get into the truck and start it up, loving the low growl from her as I turn on the radio to a talk radio station. I love me my music, but right now the boy in me wants to annoy the piss out of her. She’s so damn cute when she’s pouting. She immediately reaches over and changes it to a local alternative station. I laugh and shake my head as she turns up ‘Electric Love’ and rolls down her window. She hasn’t spoken to me since I got in the truck, but I’m giving her time to cool off.

  “What store you need to go to?” I quietly ask, as nicely as I can muster.

  “Walgreens is fine,” she answers shortly.

  “I’m sorry, Red.”

  “I know,” she says, giving me nothing more.

  I smile to myself, knowing that now she’s just pouting to pout. That’s ok. I’ll get her to talk. She is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, if not THE strongest. She’s also the most stubborn. This could be fun, winning myself back into her graces.

  I park the truck and make a move to get out, when she stops me.

  “No!” Her eyes wide, she grabs ahold of my arm.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, looking down at where she has a death grip on my forearm. What the hell? Why can’t I go in with her?

  “I mean... just leave the truck running to keep it cool. I’ll be really quick.”

  What is she hiding from me?

  I play along and nod my head, smiling the most sincere smile I can muster. Something’s going on, and I plan on figuring it out. I’ll let her think she’s in the lead right now, but I’ll get it out of her.

  She smiles and hops out of my truck. I watch her speed walk inside and shake my head at how fucking sexy she looks and she doesn’t even know it.

  My phone buzzes, signaling a voicemail. Funny, I didn’t hear it ring.

  Pulling it out, I see I have three missed calls from a number I don’t know. Weird.

  As soon as I hit send to call my voicemail I see her coming out the doors. Damn, she wasn’t joking when she said she’d be quick. She looks worried. Not pissed, not sad, just insanely worried. Maybe this meeting with Jase is bothering her more than she’s letting on. She opens the truck door as I’m ending my call to check my voicemail.

  “Hey, that was quick. Get what you need?” I ask, wondering if she’s going to let me in on the secrecy of this trip. Maybe it’s just that time of the month and she doesn’t want me in on that fact.

  “Yep, thanks.” She smiles at me, then tells me where she is supposed to be meeting Jase.

  The entire drive there I hold her hand, rubbing my thumb along her hand, trying to calm her. Something has her upset, paranoid. Like she’s going to be in trouble for something almost. This is a side of Red that I haven’t seen before and it breaks my heart a little seeing her go through this without knowing what’s making her seem so distant.

  “You sure you’re ok, Red? I can come out there with you,” I ask as I scan the park to find Jase. I have such a bad feeling about this and I hate that I agreed to stay in the truck, but I’ll respect her wishes. For now.

  “Yup, all good. He’s right over there on that bench. Stay here, Eddie. Please.” She looks over at me and smiles. “I love you,” she says, then leans over to give me a quick kiss before hopping out of my truck.

  I hate watching this happen from in here. I really fucking want to get out of the truck and see what is going on, but I’m respecting her wishes. As for now, things look ok. They are just sitting and talking. About what, I don’t know, but from what I can tell, he looks sad.

  Good! That fucker better look fucking scared shitless! I know it was him that started the apartment fire, but there’s not much evidence left to pin it on anyone. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. Apparently it was one big explosion on the main floor that set the fire off. Shit, they still haven’t released the name of the victim in the bar. God, I hope it’s not because they can’t ID the body. I couldn’t imagine dying that way.

  I’ve been sitting here for about fifteen minutes, watching the two of them talk things out, when I remember I have voicemails waiting for me. Keeping my eyes on Jase, since I still don’t trust him as far as I can spit, I dial my voicemail, enter my code, and wait for the voice.

  “Hey... um. Hi, Eddie...” a female voice comes through the speaker of my phone. I pull my eyebrows together and look at the screen like it’s going to tell me who that was.

  Strange

  I hit delete and move on to the next one, looking around the truck noticing I really need to clean it up a bit. The truck is my baby, or the closest I’ve ever had to one thankfully, but sometimes I let her get a bit messy. Setting the phone on the dash, I hit speakerphone and start collecting the receipts and water bottles from my floorboards.

  “Mr. Roe. I’ve been trying to contact you,” the voice rings through my truck as I pick up remnants of random shit off my truck floor. Picking up a receipt, I turn it to look and make sure it isn’t of importance. Reading the words on the receipt, the sound of the voicemail playing rings through my ears, but I block it out. “This is sergeant Dillard. I need-”

  I slam the phone off, staring at the paper in my hand. The receipt, time stamped not even an hour ago, is burning a hole in my hand. That one fucking line, making my eyes feel like they are on fire.

  *EPT PRE TES 1226485 12.99

  I’m not a stupid man. I know about pregnancy, I know you can get tests from drug stores. I also know that birth control doesn’t always fucking work. We’ve only had unprotected sex once. Or was it twice? Shit! How could I have been so stupid?

  Taking the piece of paper in my shaking hands, I read those words over and over, completely forgetting about the need to keep my eyes on Jase. She’s pregnant? No, this doesn’t mean she’s actually carrying my baby. This just means that she very well could be, though. Women don’t buy these things unless they are certain it’s going to be a positive, right? Shit!

  I let my thoughts scramble to my childhood, growing up with a terrible father, with a suicidal mother. My heart quickens at the thought of our child having terrible parents, but then I remember who their mom will be and smile.

  Red.

  She’s going to make the perfect fucking mother, ever. And I’m going to do everything in my power to be the best father ever. Still staring at the receipt, I let my mind play out the images of Red and our baby. I wonder if they will have the same hair color as me or her. Hers is naturally blonde, so there’s no chance we will actually have a redheaded kid, but no matter the case, I’m going to love it. I’m going to do my best to do right by her, and by the baby.

  Shit! I don’t even know if she is pregnant. I don’t know anything, because she didn’t open up to me. Why wouldn’t she open up to me about this? This is exciting! For me to be able to be excited about this is a big thing, considering I’m still getting used to the whole ‘being in love’ thing. Hell, I hope she’s excited by the possibility of starting a family. Fuck, the ring! I need to give her the ring before she tells me, that way it doesn’t look like I’m proposing just because she’s possibly knocked up.

  Oh my God, my head is swimming from all of the thoughts it’s trying to process right now. I glance up to check on Jase and Red, looking to where I thought they were sitting, but they aren’t there anymore. My heart beat speeds up, wondering where the hell they went, mentally kicking myself for taking my eyes off of them.

  I scan the crowd and see him pushing her on the swing. The fucking swing! My anger boils to levels I never knew possible.

  Stop fucking touching her hip, Jase.

  I stare at them, wanting to jump ship and storm over like a caveman, throwing her over my shoulder and taking her home, but I don’t. I’m patient. I’m trusting. I’m about to punch Jase right in his motherfucking throat.

  And then he looks over at me as he helps Red off the swing, wrapping his arm around her waist, walking back to the truck.

  I need to fucking calm down. He knows I’m here, he’s just trying to be
a dick about everything. Don’t get all riled up, Eddie. He’s not worth it. Don’t give him that power over you.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I’m able to calm myself down enough that I don’t charge at him the minute my door opens. This needs to end, though. Right now.

  I open my door and stand up, leaning over the top of the door.

  “Ready, baby?” I yell over to her. Sure, I probably look like a grade-A jackass, but right now I’m afraid of my willpower. If I went over there, I would for sure pummel his smug, pretty-boy ass.

  I see her wave and smile at me, holding up her finger to signal ‘one minute’. I don’t budge from my spot, and when he gives her an awkward goodbye hug, my entire body tenses. This shit isn’t happening again. Next time I’m not leaving her fucking side.

  I take that back, there won’t be a next time.

  She starts walking to the truck and suddenly my mind flashes back to the receipt laying on her seat. Should I grab it? Do I tell her I know? Do I let her think she still holds that secret? But what if she doesn’t ever tell me? I can’t live with that.

  Instead. I hop out of the truck to meet her at her door. The tension is rolling off of me and I have the sudden urge to take her right here. Show the world she is mine.

  I don’t feel like going to jail for public indecency, though, so I do the next best thing. I push her up against the door, hold onto her like my life depends on her breaths, and kiss her like I can’t get enough. She moans into me and wraps her arms around my neck.

  “Hey,” she whispers as she breaks the kiss to take a breath. “That’s a nice welcome. Let’s continue this at home.” She pushes on my shoulder and I smile.

  When I open the door, I don’t watch her reaction to seeing the receipt. I help her in and close the door behind her. Taking as many breaths as I can to calm down, I slowly walk to my side of the truck, to give her time to decide if she wants to let me in on her little secret or not. When I make it to my door, I see her staring at it, frozen. Like it’s going to bite her if she touches it the wrong way.

  Opening my door, I smile at her and hop into the truck. I might not be a country boy, and I might hate Stetsons and cowboy boots, but my truck is my baby. Don’t fuck with her, and I’m the only one allowed to get her dirty. Red glances over at me when I climb in, giving me a weak smile.

  “Whatchya got there?” I say as calmly as I can. My hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard I feel like I’m going to crush it.

  Relax, Eddie.

  “Oh... just a.... ” She looks over at me and scrunches her eyebrows together with worry. I can understand her being scared, being worried, but doesn’t she know I’m here for her? Doesn’t she know I’d do anything for her? I mean, we’ve never talked about having kids, but just the thought of her growing my child makes me want to jump with joy. And I’m Eddie, I don’t jump with joy.

  Chapter 7

  Gwynn

  I get out of the truck and adjust my shorts. Jase doesn’t need any reason to look at me other than a friend, and unfortunately these are really fucking short. I know it, and I know I probably shouldn’t be wearing them to meet Jase, but I don’t really have an abundance of clothing since all of mine burned in the fire. Since I ordered these shorts, gym shorts, a few tank tops online, this is all I have until I’m able to go to a real store and get more clothes. When Eddie made the comment about my outfit, it really pissed me off. I’m allowed to think it doesn’t look right, but he isn’t allowed to say anything about it.

  Sounds pretty cut and dry to me.

  Jase is sitting on the bench and immediately draws his attention to me when he sees me walking towards him, closing the book he had open. Glancing over at the truck behind me, I see his smile falter ever so slightly before returning it to me happily. He reaches out to hug me, and I do so stiffly.

  I’d love to be friends with him, but the reality that this is a ‘goodbye’ meeting is starting to settle in my stomach. I hate it, but he’s been super creepy lately, and mean. I need to focus on my relationship with Eddie and if getting rid of Jase is what I need to do, then I’ll do it.

  “So, what you do need Jase?”

  “I need to apologize, Gwynn. I was an asshole to follow you to Vegas. I guess I’m just so in love with you that my heart broke when you took off with him that fast.”

  “It was really creepy, Jase. I’m not gonna lie. That’s some serious stalker shit right there.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, Gwynnie. I’m sorry for everything.”

  “I hear you. I might be able to forgive you eventually, Jase, but I’ll never forget. You screwed everything up.”

  I see his eyes flick towards Eddie, and then back to me. He doesn’t bring up Vegas, or the fact that he was at my fight last week. We make small talk about things we used to enjoy doing, but the whole time, I’m getting an uneasy feeling from him. I’d be his friend, but I’m not going to let him try and ruin what Eddie and I have built.

  “Hey, you wanna swing like we used to?” He smiles at me and somewhere in there I know the Jase that was my best friend is still there. I smile back, as genuine as I can muster and nod.

  “Sure... that sounds fun,” I say, standing to grab a swing that just opened up.

  There isn’t any other swing available, so instead of racing to see who can get the highest the fastest, something he used to do to try and cheer me up, he opts for pushing me. It’s weird, having someone else, especially Jase, pushing me on a swing. I’m a grown woman. This is so strange. I need to end this with Jase. As much as I’d like to keep his friendship, I can’t help but feel insanely strange around him. Something isn’t right with him. Something happened, something snapped. I realize this is probably the last time I’ll get to hang out with him and it’s bittersweet. He was my best friend, my only friend, for so long that it’s going to be strange

  “Hey, listen, I really should get going. Eddie and I have things we need to get done today.” Like take a fucking pregnancy test. “I’m glad you’re doing okay, Jase.”

  “Yea, you too. You guys look like things are getting pretty serious.”

  “Yea, I guess you could say that. The fire at the bar kind of put things off in a weird direction, but we are getting there.”

  “Yea, I heard about that. God, Gwynn... I’m so sorry. You need a place to stay? I’ve got an extra bedroom.”

  “Oh, no. Jase, that’s ok, I’ve found a place I think.”

  He looks at Eddie again, quickly, then stares into my eyes.

  “You sure? Free rent, Gwynn. Nothing beats free.”

  “We bought a house, Jase. We move in next week.”

  Just then, Eddie chooses to holler for me, breaking the tension that was forming between the two of us. Holding up my finger to signal that I’ll be right there, I look back at a fuming Jase.

  “Wow. Um... congrats, Gwynnie. Just... that’s fast. Okay. Well... that’s that, then. Have a good one.” He sighs and quickly hugs me before walking off.

  Getting back to the truck, Eddie makes sure to claim his stake on me before I’m even in the truck. I don’t mind, I like possessive Eddie. It really fucking turns me on. Climbing into the truck and seeing the receipt, though, really throws me for a loop. It’s sitting on my seat. He had to see it. Shit! I wasn’t going to keep it from him, but I wanted to be sure before I told him anything. Now, he probably thinks I’m keeping secrets from him.

  Opening the door and climbing back in to his seat, he smiles over at me, then glances at the paper. The way his hands are clutching onto the steering wheel, I know he knows. If I keep it away from him now, he’s just going to be pissed. That’s the last thing I need right now. After stuttering like an idiot, I finally manage to get out a few real words.

  “It’s a, uh... it’s a receipt. My receipt.”

  He nods, backing the truck out of the spot and putting it in drive to head home. Or at least the place we will be calling ‘home’ for another week. He isn’t saying anything and his hands are still gripping
the steering wheel.

  Ever since my dad died I’ve had a fear of cars. It’s irrational, really, but for the longest time I wouldn’t get in a car. I wouldn’t drive mine, I wouldn’t drive in one, I hated them. They killed my father. It took me a year to realize that it wasn’t the car that killed my dad but the drunk driver that hit them. Sometimes, though, I still get the chills when driving in cluttered traffic, and once I even had a panic attack while driving in a traffic jam. I guess that’s why I chose a life that consisted of everything I needed within walking distance. I didn’t have to use my car that much and I was okay with it. Now, though, with buying a house a little further out, I will probably have to get over that fear. Especially if I keep fighting for Mac.

  Shit, I never thought of that. He’d let me out of my contract if I’m pregnant, right?

  We’re almost back to the house and Eddie hasn’t said anything the entire drive home. His hands haven’t left the steering wheel either. I know he’s waiting for me to tell him, but I need us out of this truck first. I need to take the damn test. I need to know, before I tell him.

  Pulling into the driveway, I notice a cop car parked in front of the house.

  What the hell?

  “What’s that all about?” I mutter as I turn to watch the officer get out of his car and head towards us.

  “I don’t fucking now. Shit. I had a voicemail from the PD earlier... never finished listening to it. It probably has something to do with the fire,” he says, raking his hands through his buzz cut.

  We get out of the car and walk towards the officer.

  “Mr. Roe,” the officer says, then nods at me. Eddie’s hand finds mine and I squeeze, letting him know I’m not going anywhere. I have a really bad fucking feeling about this.

  “Mind if we go inside, officer....”

  “Dillard. Sergeant Dillard.”

  “Well, Sarge, follow me.” Eddie walks up the sidewalk to the house and lets us in through the garage.

  I can feel his tension and I know he feels the same way I do right about now. Something is wrong about this. Police officers don’t just make house calls to tell someone the outcome of a fire investigation, do they? I wouldn’t know, I never had the pleasure of one gracing my doorstep.

 

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