by Danah Logan
"Yes, I'm fine. Go make sure she hasn't lost it yet. She was a mess when I got here, but they wouldn't let me wait with her." Mags squeezes my hand, and I return the gesture before making my way to the back.
I don't have to look far for King. The place is not big, and I find her after one more turn. She is leaning against the wall opposite a door. She has the Helix in one hand, arm crossed over her chest, and she's chewing on the thumb of the other.
"Princess," I whisper. I don't want to startle her.
Her eyes find me instantly, and her lips begin to tremble. I'm at her side in a few strides. Taking the blade from her hand—knowing where she keeps it—I tuck it in the sheath in the back of her jeans. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. She falls apart, and my heart breaks for her.
"Is there any news?" I murmur against her hair, but she shakes her head into my shirt.
"I'm sorry I made you leave practice." She peers through her wet lashes.
I study her before responding, hating that she feels the need to apologize. "Are you kidding me? You always call me, no matter what or when. Understood?"
A small smile appears. "I'm not used to relying on someone," she admits. Chewing on her bottom lip, she adds, "You were the first one I called. The only one I wanted with me. Not Kiwi. And he's always been the one."
Something inside of me snaps into place at her words, and I swallow over a new emotion clogging my throat. I know exactly what she means. She is the first one I want to talk to—no matter how trivial it is.
We wait for another hour before a middle-aged woman in bloody scrubs comes out of the OR. King is crushing my fingers in a vise grip as we listen to her explain about Echo's injuries. They were able to stop the internal bleeding. Through an utter miracle, she has no broken bones, but she would have to be kept as still as possible for the foreseeable future. Good luck with that—this dog is the Energizer Bunny on speed in a canine's body.
The vet is keeping Echo overnight to monitor her vitals and assures us she will let us know if there are any changes, but she believes she will remain stable.
We would be able to bring her home the following evening. I want to argue with the woman because I won't be here tomorrow. Isn't there a way to get her home sooner? But then logic sets in; I am selfish in my need to take care of the two. Echo is part of King, and that makes her automatically important to me.
Once we are at my place and King is in the shower, I call Kiwi. He was supposed to join King at my away game the next day. Instead, he'll be staying back and driving King to pick up Echo.
It gives me some comfort but won't prevent me from checking in on them hourly, except when I am on the field.
We're in the locker room. Most of the guys have already left for the bus to take us to the hotel. Kai is waiting as I put my shoes on. Finished, I pull out my phone to check if there is any word about Echo.
"Bro, I don't know which pussy you're more whipped for, King's or Echo's."
Narrowing my eyes at him, annoyance laces my reply. "Do you listen to yourself? Half the shit that comes out of your mouth makes no sense."
My roommate curls his lips between his teeth.
"What?" I challenge him.
Kai keeps a steady gaze on me. He is rarely serious, and it's clear I went too far. "I'm worried about you. Just because I joke around—or drink myself into oblivion—doesn't mean I don't see what's going on."
I consider his words. The buzzing current that had been building since he blurted out his first comment disappears. "Explain."
Kai sighs. "Don't get me wrong, man. Your girl is badass, and I love her." My scowl makes him lift his hands in surrender. "Not in that way, bro. Chill out. What I'm trying to say is, something is off."
Off?
Kai doesn't know about King's past, what she did—had to do.
"She used to stalk you, Wes. She's always on edge, even when she seems relaxed. She watches you like a…" He rubs his palms over his face. "Like you're a ticking time bomb or some shit. I can't pinpoint it."
For him to have a conversation like this, he's truly concerned. But he also has no idea what King went through. Of course she's on edge. I blow out a sharp breath as the need to defend her bursts to the surface. I don't want to go off on him, but it's almost impossible to keep a steady tone.
"I—thanks." Kai scowls at me, and I bark out a laugh. His expression is not one I see too often. "I appreciate your concern, man. You've been a good friend to me the last couple of years. I haven't been the easiest person to share your house with."
A cocky smirk spreads over his face, one of his typical comebacks burning on his tongue.
I hold up a palm. It's my turn to be serious. "King has a past. One she doesn't talk about unless she has to, and it's the reason she is the way she is."
I'm as cryptic as Lilly's head of security when anyone asks him something about himself.
Kai places a hand on my shoulder. "Just…be careful."
I jerk my head in a nod as he says, "So, are you allowed to party with your friends tonight or what? I need some pussy to celebrate this win. Or a drink. Or both. In no particular order."
And just like that, my roommate is back.
With the entrance to our townhome being up a flight of stairs, King decided that she and Echo would stay at her place. The backyard is right off the kitchen, and Echo would be able to go to the bathroom and come right back in without someone having to carry her.
So, as soon as we're back in town, I grab a bag, throw some clothes in, and head to her apartment. I find King on the couch. Echo's head is on her lap, and she's stroking her fur.
"How are my girls?" I ask as I lower myself onto the cushion and place a kiss on King's temple.
"Glad you're back." She leans into me. Warmth radiates through my chest. It feels good to be wanted.
I scratch Echo behind the ear, and she glances up at me without moving. "We'll get you back on your feet in no time," I tell her.
Focusing on King, dark circles are visible under her light-blue eyes. "Have you slept?"
"Not much. I was too worried she would need something."
I nod in understanding. "Why don't you go lie down for a bit." I shift to lift Echo's head and take King's place.
She resists for a moment but then concedes, exhaustion winning out. "She needs the pain medicine in an hour. The bottle is in the kitchen. Give it to her with a little bit of peanut butter, but not too much, or she—"
"Princess."
"Yes?" She stares at me, chewing on her nail—a habit I've not seen on her until two days ago.
"I got this." I give her a reassuring smile.
"Okay."
"Okay." I wink.
King needed the rest. She doesn't reemerge until it's dark. We order food and spend the rest of the weekend with Echo, resting in her room or on the couch.
When it's time for her to go to work on Sunday, I assure King that I won't leave Echo's side. She's standing in the doorframe, gnawing on her bottom lip. I'm sitting on her bed with my laptop propped on my legs and Echo on her doggy bed right in front of me on the floor.
"We'll be here."
King walks back in and kneels in front of Echo, placing a kiss on her head. Standing up, she leans down to me, putting her mouth on mine, and I involuntarily let my tongue swipe across her lips. She opens up and deepens the connection. Heat shoots to my cock. Shit, I didn't mean for that to happen. All we've done since Echo's accident is cuddle and the occasional peck on the mouth. She sleeps in my arms, and I am content with it. As awful as the accident was, it brought us closer.
"I—" I break off, and King wrinkles her forehead. "I'll see you in a bit," I finish the sentence, and she searches my eyes.
What was I about to say?
The vet declares that Echo is healing nicely and that she'll be running around again in no time. I'm standing next to King as we get the news, and this time, it's me who squeezes her hand. She sags against me, and I let out a huge brea
th. I wrap my arm around her, drawing her close, the relief making my knees weak.
We continue our routine. Whenever King is at The Grizz, I stay with Echo, even as she begins to feel better and can walk around almost normally again—only a little slower.
On King's night off, we curl up in her bed, my laptop in front of us. We watch one of those new Netflix shows, and before we realize it, we've watched the entire season.
So, this is what Rhys and Lilly always had with each other. I never understood until now.
That night, I go to bed with a lightness behind my ribs I've never experienced before. Making sense of my friend's relationship also puts something else in perspective. Lilly didn't stop Rhys from his mistake, because they were a team. They may disagree on topics, but she trusts him with every fiber of her being.
Maybe it's time to forgive them, I hear King's words in my head.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"MAAAAGS!" My shout turns into a croak mid-scream. Heart pounding in my throat, sweat begins to build on my forehead. I'm going to throw up. No, no, no.
How could this happen?
My eyes fly back and forth between the calendar displayed on my phone and the two round boxes sitting next to it. One I started a week ago—seven pills gone—and the other one I had fished out of the large blue bin outside the house—talk about dumpster diving at its finest. One pill left. How? My mind is racing through the days. I don't understand. I've never missed one. Ever!
My calendar has several reminders. One for when to get more (having no health insurance, I always have money set aside. I'd rather be hungry for a few days than not be able to protect myself) and two daily reminders for when to take it (one at the time I should swallow the tiny pill and another, two hours later, in case I forget it). I have never forgotten it. Until now. I even have it marked when to start a new pack in my calendar, which I did without thinking or double-checking the old one a week ago. Fuck! For once, I'm glad about my laziness with taking out the bathroom trash, which meant it was still outside.
Realizing what must've happened, I dove into the trash can like the time I was fifteen. Mom had been in the hospital for two weeks, and I was looking for something edible, not wanting Kiwi or his grandma to know how bad it was. They found out anyway.
I shake the memory and focus on the present. My best friend is still not here. Where the hell is this girl when I need her?
"MAAAAGS!" My voice now borders on hysterical.
The door flies open, and Mags stands in the threshold, frantically searching my small bathroom for the possible danger. Then, her eyes zero in on the vanity and instantly jerk back up, followed by dropping to my stomach. Understanding sets in, and she gasps, eyes bulging.
My throat closes up, and I swallow several times, but it's no use. The tears start pooling in my eyes until they spill over, and a sob bubbles up in my throat.
My best friend is at my side in two strides and wraps her arms around me. I cling to the front of her shirt while cries rack through my body. She strokes my hair, continuously murmuring, "I'm here. Let it out. It'll be okay," to me.
It feels like hours until my body begins to calm and numbness takes over. I pull back and meet Mags's concerned eyes.
"What am I gonna do?" My question breaks the silence in the room.
"Are you sure?"
She is asking if I have taken a test yet.
"I'm six days late, Mags." My voice cracks again at the end of the sentence.
"Stay here." She disappears and walks back in not thirty seconds later, holding a pink box.
Momentarily distracted from my situation, I frown. "Why do you have a pregnancy test handy?"
She completely ignores me and pulls out the test, holding it out to me. "Pee!"
"Gee, aren't we blunt today?" A half-hearted laugh escapes me, but Mags doesn't blink and shoves the little stick in my hand.
Not caring about modesty at this point, I drop my pants and sit down on the toilet.
Aiming at this darn stick is harder than it looks.
I cap the test and wipe the other end with toilet paper, setting it on the sink. Mags already started the timer, and we both stand there, staring down at the piece of plastic that will determine my future from here on out.
We wait two minutes before a faint second pink line starts forming. With every passing second, dizziness spreads through me further. By four minutes, the line is solid, and I clamp my hand in front of my mouth.
I'm pregnant.
Sitting on the couch with a glass of water in both hands, I stare at nothing. I expected to be upset. Being happy would be a stretch. I'm twenty-two years old, and the father of the baby is only twenty-one. A baby. But none of the emotions come. I'm numb. There is nothing.
Mags says I'm in shock or denial, but wouldn't denial mean I don't believe that the little stick displayed the truth?
"You need to tell him." Her words rip me out of my catatonic state, and I stare at her.
"Come again?" Tell him what?
"He deserves to know. He's been kept in the dark too much in his life. Don't make that same mistake."
Is she seriously psychoanalyzing my relationship right now?
There is an emotion.
I stand up, squaring my shoulders at her. "Are you fucking serious? How do you think this will go over?"
"He is part of this, too," she pushes.
"Oh, sure." I throw my arms up. Heat is spreading through my body, and I welcome the sensation. It's better than the void I was feeling for the last few hours. "So, I'll walk up to him and say, 'Hey, baby, guess what? I forgot to take my birth control the day I told you I'm a murderer. Congratulations! You're going to be a daddy.'" Sarcasm drips from my tone, and Mags crosses her arms over her chest, cocking her head.
She doesn't grace me with a reply, and I know what she is doing, which pisses me off even more. She is right. I can't keep this from him.
"King," her voice softens, which makes it worse.
The red haze still clouding my vision disintegrates, and her form becomes blurry in front of me.
Goddamn it, no more tears.
My phone begins to vibrate on the coffee table, and both of our heads jerk in the direction. Wes's picture lights up the screen, and I peer over at the clock over the TV. I missed my class, and he just figured it out. Shit.
I meet my roommate's concerned eyes. She also skipped her lecture to stay with me.
"Do you want me to answer?" She's trying to help.
"NO!" I screech. Covering my face with my hands, I look through my fingers. I steady my voice. "If you pick up, he'll immediately know something is wrong."
"So, what do we do?"
I draw in a deep breath. "I'll text him that I'll see him tonight after practice. He'll come by The Grizz with the team, and I'll have time to figure out how to break the news to him."
How to ruin his life.
Mags's expression morphs. She's proud of me. Standing a little bit taller, a small smile tugs on the corners of my mouth. I'm going to do the right thing. I move toward her, and she meets me halfway. I hug her, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I'll tell him tonight." She pats the back of my head. Pulling away, she plants a kiss on my cheek.
"Everything will be fine. Wes is not someone who will run for the hills, trust me."
I dip my chin, despite the nausea building in my throat again.
He may not abandon me for the unplanned pregnancy, but when he finds out what else I've kept from him, I'm going to lose him.
The thought of running without coming clean crossed my mind several times as I got ready for my shift, but at the same time, I couldn't do that to Wes. I refuse to be like his friends who made decisions for him. I love him too much for that. Love. God, I never thought I would experience that emotion.
The first three hours at work keep me busy, and I don't have time to think about what's about to happen. All my concentration goes into mixing drinks, and one of my regulars compliments me that this is the best I've
ever served him. The things I can do when avoiding reality at all costs.
Around nine, Kiwi walks in, and he only has to take one look at me to know something is up. Fuck. He sits down at my section of the bar instead of the table the guys have claimed as their own whenever they're here. After the first week, no one dared to sit at the high top in the corner anymore.
"Hey, Roe-Roe." Kiwi tries to catch my eye.
"Hey." I keep my gaze locked on the glasses I'm scrubbing in the bar sink.
When the barware is cleaner than it's ever been, I busy myself drying each glass meticulously. I'm at number three when a hand latches onto my wrist above the counter. I slowly trail the arm attached to the hand until I lock on my childhood best friend's glare. Great, he's pissed.
"Talk," he commands, and I cringe. For our entire lives together, he has never been harsh with me. His taut jaw relaxes ever so slightly when he takes in my reaction. "Roe, what's going on?"
I set the glass and dish towel down and square my shoulders. I want to confide in him more than anything, but not until I've had a chance to talk to Wes. "I can't talk about it right now. I'll explain later, 'kay?" I'm not asking him, and he understands. He's not happy, but we've been in this together for way too long.
"Is it Wes?" Kiwi pushes once more.
I purse my lips, and he exhales his resignation. "Fine, but I want to know what's going on before your man takes you home tonight."
If he is still taking me home.
I force my face to remain neutral and bob my head. "I promise."
As Kiwi makes his way to the high top, Mags steps to my side. "Did you tell him?"
"No," is all I say, and she moves back to her section.
Not thirty minutes later, the door swings open, and a hollered, "The man of the hour is here!" announces the team's arrival. Kai's entrance prompts my first genuine laugh today. This guy.
He is followed by Zeke, who aims straight for Kiwi, Mack with his arm around Chelsea—she waves at her sister and me—and Wes in the rear. His eyes zero in on me as soon as his foot is over the threshold.