by Sosie Frost
She didn’t have a clue how amazing she was, and she got more beautiful by the day. I couldn’t wait to see what else the pregnancy did for her. She thought I wouldn’t be attracted to her once she grew too big. Christ, she’d be lucky if I could keep my hands off of her.
Had I ever told her that?
Did I ever tell her anything? I know what I’d felt in bed. Every time I took her was a more meaningful and romantic experience than the last, but I never thought to say the words that crushed me from the inside out.
Fuck, was I that stupid?
The blond snuggled too close and tried to whisper in my ear. I pushed her away.
“Jack, what the hell is wrong with you?” Bryon handed me a tumbler filled with something that was sure to burn my throat. “Drink, man. Get your dick sucked. Stop moping. You’re freaking me the fuck out.”
“Sorry.” I stared into the tumbler. Bryon took the couch across from me, my two loyal offensive lineman, Orlando and Marcus, on the other side of the room. “It’s just...Leah.”
“The bitch?”
“She’s not a bitch.” My voice rose. Bryon apologized. “She went to the doctor without me.”
Bryon shrugged. “Baby okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I didn’t go. She didn’t want me there.”
“Fuck man, sounds like she did you a favor. Who wants to spend their time in an OBGAGA-whatever the fuck it is. Fucking baby shit everywhere and ovaries.” Bryon shuddered. “Gives me the willies.”
“Yeah, and how many women ended up there because of you?”
“Ain’t no one suing me for paternity. You fucked yourself up there, son.”
No, I hadn’t. That baby and its mother were the greatest things in my life. I sipped the alcohol. It was a cheap scotch, but it did the job.
“You need to bust outta that relationship,” Bryon said. “That bitc—lady’s got you collared.”
“Don’t mind it.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t seem too happy now. Hell, we haven’t seen you out at all. Not a party unless Jack Carson makes an appearance, baby.”
I shrugged. “Been busy.”
“Dump her ass and get your life back.”
“It’s complicated.” Just the thought of losing Leah pitted my stomach. “She’s helping me. If I’m with her, it looks good to the league. You got me? And since they’re looking for any reason to fuck me over…”
Bryon glanced to the linemen. His lips twisted into a smile. “Jack, you worried about your position?”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Dude, fucking relax. Look.” His voice lowered as he gestured to our friends. “Matt’s doing okay, but you say the word, and we can make him a little less comfortable in the pocket.”
It was like he sucker-punched me. “What?”
“Just sayin’. Maybe some blocks get missed. Maybe he’s gotta hurry a couple passes. Matt ain’t got the skills you do. We made him look good. If you think it’ll help, we can make him look…not as good.”
“Jesus fuck, listen to yourself!” I nearly leapt off the couch. My knee didn’t cooperate, or I’d have split right then. “Christ, no! I’m not gonna let you throw the games because you want me under center. I want my position because I’m the best at it, not because—”
Bryon held his hands up. “Okay, okay. Just sayin’, Jack. Offer stands.”
“I don’t need it.” I set the glass down too hard, spilling the liquid. “And if I ever think one of you assholes isn’t putting in a hundred percent—”
“No one’s doing anything, Jack. Fucking calm down.” Bryon grinned. “We’re all friends here.”
He snapped his fingers, and one blonde slunk away to entertain Orlando and Marcus. They retreated to the corner of the room. Bryon kept the second blonde for himself.
The third woman waited for me, brushing ebony fingers along my chest.
“Thought she was more your type.” Bryon winked.
She wasn’t. Leah was. This girl was a poor imitation.
Her skin wasn’t Leah’s rich cocoa softness. Her touch on my shoulder wasn’t the timid tickle of Leah’s hand. I always had to tell Leah she was allowed to touch me, especially to hold on as I fucked her into oblivion every night in my bed.
Our bed?
Fucking, a bed. It didn’t matter whose. It just mattered that she was in it.
“You seem tense, baby,” the woman whispered. “Can I help?”
Bryon nodded. I wasn’t in the mood and I certainly wasn’t looking for anyone else.
I wasn’t sure when it happened, but the revelation wasn’t a surprise. I wanted Leah and Leah alone.
“Don’t…” I pushed the woman away. She pouted, and I shrugged. “Nothing against you.”
“But…”
“No buts. Not interested.”
“But you’re Jack Carson…” The girl laughed. “I thought tonight would be fun.”
Since when did I have to explain myself or my cock? Was my reputation that bad? Did people really think I’d hump anything that talked?
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the sonogram. I wasn’t sure what I was doing with it, but the image still made me smile. I showed the woman.
“That’s my baby,” I said. “He’s got my squiggles, right?”
“Oh.” The woman didn’t even look at the picture. “You do need some attention.”
“What?”
“You know...Momma’s at home all sick and moody. And Daddy?” She licked her lips. “Daddy needs some extra love. I can help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Come on. What are you worried about? Just one night, Jack. Just me and you. No strings. No babies or wives.”
“She’s not my wife.” Why the hell hadn’t I offered to marry her?
“Even better. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her...”
The woman licked her lips and tugged her shirt low, revealing the plump flesh of her breasts.
Was this what I once wanted? Meaningless, casual, forgettable sex? It used to feel good, and it got me off. No questions. No leashes. I always made a quick escape before the girl wanted something stupid like breakfast or my number.
Or to present me as someone respectable to the world.
To make me think of someone other than myself.
To have my baby.
Jesus. I never used to want commitment and family and all the shackles that came with it, but now? It was the only thing that made sense.
I’d pissed Leah off. I needed to talk to her before she made good on her threat and left. And, once I found her, I wasn’t letting go. No more chances. None of this hesitant, uncertain bullshit. Leah was the only woman for me—for now and forever. For the first time in my life, I needed something other than the championship to prove my worth.
I wanted someone to love.
I pushed the woman off of me and waved to Bryon. “I gotta go home.”
Bryon grunted, forcing the blonde’s hand back to his jeans. “Let her cool down. Those pregos get worked up all the damn time.”
“Yeah, I don’t want her worked up. I gotta make sure she’s not imploding. Thanks for…”
For showing me how hollow everything had been. For proving Leah right and me wrong and finally accepting that I had more in my life than superficial bullshit.
I nodded to him. “See ya tomorrow.”
I let myself out, sucking in a breath of fresh air as the night choked the world. I used to like that too. No one could see what or who you did in the dark. But tonight just felt too…alone.
I hopped in my car and pulled my phone. I’d turned it off in my rage like a jackass. Didn’t surprise me to see Leah’s name pop up on a missed call. At least she had the sense to call like a rational adult when times got tough.
I pulled onto the street and checked the message, but my fingers clenched over the wheel as Leah’s voice whimpered over the phone. The voice mail was from an ho
ur ago. The fear in her words transferred to me, chilling my blood and slicing through my flesh in a raw agony.
The message played once.
I thought hurting my knee was terrifying. This was worse.
This was hell.
This was every terrible nightmare come to life because I was too goddamned selfish to consider the world beyond myself.
I jammed the brake and spun the car one hundred and eighty degrees in the middle of the intersection. The car squealed and peeled out, racing towards the city’s hospital.
Her words scalded my mind, replaying over and over.
“Jack…it’s me. I think something’s wrong. Please call me. I have to go to the hospital.”
Jack
The highway blurred under the car. I didn’t check to see how suicidally fast I drove.
I passed six cars on the right, two on the left, and weaved between any asshole who couldn’t figure out how their fucking accelerator worked. Nothing would stop me from getting to the hospital.
Nothing.
It was my fault. I got her upset. I fought with her. I left. And then something happened to the baby.
Fuck, I knew something wasn’t right with her. The signs were there. She was tired. Weak. She grabbed the couch for support.
What the hell did I do?
My heart crushed itself against my ribs. It wasn’t fair. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to Leah, but if the baby was in danger?
Fuck.
I wasn’t a good man. I wasn’t a role model. But goddamn it, I thought I could be a good father.
A good husband.
If I had the chance. If Leah gave me a chance and the damn world cut me a fucking break, I’d prove to everyone that Jack Carson wasn’t some bastard who only wanted a quick fuck, fast cars, and no responsibilities. Nothing sounded better to me than a night spent rocking my baby to sleep in my arms as I watched the late night sport highlights.
I laid on the horn and passed another idiot going under the speed limit in the left lane. Ten minutes lost. It felt like ten days. I was too late to get ahold of Leah. She didn’t answer her phone, and I hoped that meant she was already with a doctor and not…
Not that she couldn’t answer her phone for whatever reason.
This was bullshit. I forced the car faster and raced the highway itself, slowing only so I didn’t break my neck skidding off the ramp and into the city. The hospital was less than a mile away, but the instant I peeled onto Hayes Street, red and blue lights flashed in my mirror.
The police cruiser whistled his siren and pulled behind my bumper.
This wasn’t happening.
“Fuck…not now!” I slammed a hand against the wheel. Hurt myself. That was all we needed. Broken fingers with speeding tickets, leaving Leah alone in the hospital, terrified for herself and the baby and…
I couldn’t stop for the cop.
But if I ran?
At least Leah would know exactly where I was when the hospital TVs showed coverage of the high speed chase with the headline Jack-ass Carson – Still At Large After Fucking Everything Up.
I couldn’t put Leah through that, not while she was already in pain. How long could a stop possibly take? A minute? Two?
“Hang on, Kiss.” I pulled over. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
The lights flashed, repeatedly, but the officer didn’t haul his lazy ass out of the car. The minute I surrendered to the law instead of Leah passed. So did the second. The third.
I tore through the glove box and found the insurance and registration. My driver’s license bent in my hand. He still didn’t get out of the fucking car. I’d have handed him my entire checkbook and offered a bribe for every asshole in the precinct if it meant getting back on the road.
The instant the officer moved, I knew I was fucked.
I watched in the mirror as his thick boot struck against the ground. The cinders and road debris crumbled under his feet. He already knew who he caught. Pretty sure he ran my plates and got a hard-on just thinking of how he’d torture me tonight.
He was the same cop who broke up the bar fight. He came after me first and made sure I was cuffed even though I was the only one busted up. I had the blackened eye—apparently that also meant I got the elbow to the rib and treated like some punk-ass criminal.
Officer Burke hated that the charges were dropped. Now he’d get his revenge, except he wasn’t just screwing with me. Every second he toted his ego-driven, testosterone-fueled, authority complex over me was another second Leah waited for me at the hospital.
She’d never forgive me.
What was happening to her now?
Officer Burke leaned over the Porsche and grinned, his fingertips stroking a paint that was too rich for his salary. He’d have to pull over a lot of speeders to get that promotion. He nodded at me, his thick tongue rubbing over his teeth like he prepared to feast on a steak.
Another treat too rich for a man like him.
“Jack Carson.” He snorted. “Gonna have to ask you to get out of the car.”
“Look—”
“Now.”
“I’m on the way—”
“I don’t give a flying fuck where you’re going or why. You’re speeding on my roads, causing a public disturbance again. Get your ass out of the car.”
“I’m going to the hospital.”
“You’re going to jail if you don’t get out of the goddamned car!”
Son of a—
I kicked the door open. Officer Burke hauled me behind the car and kicked at my legs. My bad knee buckled, and it gave him just the advantage he needed to slam me on the truck and frisk me like I was a damned convict.
“I have to get to the hospital!” I spat the word, deliberating too long on a profanity and simply leaving it out. My words didn’t sound any less disrespectful. “My girlfriend is—”
“You think you can do whatever the fuck you want in this city, don’t you?”
I grunted and tried to push off the car. The metal baton in his hand extended. He whacked it against my back and used the steel to keep me pinned.
Not the night to do this to me.
I could have ripped his goddamned head off if I had wanted. I didn’t need my knee, not when I had the upper body strength to wrestle away from three linebackers and still pitch a football forty yards down field in a laser strike.
I didn’t fight him. I fought every instinct to battle for my pride.
I couldn’t let my rage win. If he had any reason to take me in, he’d do it. It’d keep me from Leah.
She and the baby needed me.
For now, I was absolutely helpless.
“Got news for you, Carson.” Officer Burke sneered. “I’m an Ashenville fan.”
“Explains a lot.”
“I should have kept your ass in jail after that bar fight. Disorderly conduct. Physically Assault. Something to teach you a goddamned lesson. You ain’t nothing special because you can toss a ball around. And you ain’t above the law.”
“I wasn’t a part of the fight,” I said. “And if you’d try to pin anything on me, I’ll have my lawyer humping that police station for every cent I can get.”
“You little—”
“I’m not above the law, but I can pay for a hell of a good defense. Write me the fucking ticket and let me go. I’m gotta get to the hospital!”
That just pissed him off. I figured it would. He kicked me to the pavement, and the broken curb scraped my palms as I fell. My blood pressure spiked.
Son of a bitch.
Rage blinded me, but I fought myself more than the goddamned police officer. I couldn’t make a scene. He wanted me to fight. He needed the excuse to take his aggression out on me and use me as a fucking scapegoat.
Like everyone else.
And maybe I deserved it once, but not now. Not when someone else depended on me. Leah was right. My reputation preceded me, and not in a good way. It colored everyone’s perception of me. My image caused
the trouble now, and I was fucked because of it.
I stared into the darkness, tasting car exhaust and the copper tang of blood from where I bit my lip in the toss to the ground.
Was she hurt too?
“You’re gonna sit right here,” Officer Burke said. “I clocked you driving fast enough to impound that pretty little car and haul your ass in for reckless driving.”
“Then let me call my lawyer so I can sue your ass for keeping me from the hospital.”
Officer Burke grinned at me, reached for his radio. He called to dispatch. “Officer Twenty-Three Thirty requesting backup at the intersection of Hayes and Fourth.”
Fuck. Me.
I clenched my fists, but I reached for my phone instead of raging. The asshole’s LED flashlight blinded me. Officer Burke grunted.
“Maybe we ought to do a sobriety test.”
Christ, I had one sip of the drink. Even if I had two shots, I was six-four and over two hundred pounds. Nothing was affecting me unless I cracked the bottle over my head as well.
Officer Burke forced me to my feet and laughed.
“Standing on one leg with that busted knee should be fun, huh, Carson? Can you do it?”
And not cause damage? And not blow my career?
“No.”
“Great, I’ll take you in for a blood-test.”
Christ. This wasn’t happening. “No. I’ll do it. Just hurry the fuck up.”
“Easy, Play-Maker. We do things slow on my field, you get me?”
Humiliation. Rage. My fear for the baby sliced through my veins.
What the hell was I supposed to do? If I didn’t get the hell out of this mess now, God only knew what Leah would endure alone.
What would happen if she lost the baby and I wasn’t there?
Officer Burke recited the instructions for the bullshit sobriety test as another cruiser pulled up. The second officer hurried to the scene, and I breathed a little easier as I recognized him.
“Jack Carson!” Officer Ryan said. “Imagine finding you in trouble again.”
If the night had one benefit, it was Officer Ryan. He was the responding officer to my car crash a few months ago, and he just delivered the police report to me last week. He greeted both of us, and I took my chance before Burke could give him the details.