Hollywood Daddy (A Single Dad Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  “Yes.”

  “But not this time because you have to rush out and see your ex-boyfriend.”

  “Kyle…” the phone went off again. “It’s not that, I swear to you.”

  “Then prove it to me, Amber. Let me see the texts.”

  The panic I felt inside of me told me that getting Kyle involved at this stage of his recovery would do nothing but set him back. I couldn’t take the risk that Dylan would hurt him. “No, I’m sorry Kyle. I have to go.”

  I rushed out with my shoes in my hand. I didn’t look over my shoulder because I was afraid if I saw his face one more time, I’d want to fall into his arms, be a damsel in distress, and ask him to rescue me…but this was my problem, my mess, and I was the one that needed to clean it up. Kyle’s not strong enough to deal with Dylan right now and even if he were, I don’t want him fighting for me.

  Chapter Eleven

  KYLE

  I sat and brooded for an hour after Amber left. I wondered what she was doing. I felt sorry for myself. I felt angry, and I tried telling myself that my feelings were unjust since this was our first date and it wasn’t up to me who she sees and when. I told myself this jealousy was residual from what Greg and Lisa had done to me and it wasn’t fair to put that on Amber.

  None of that helped.

  I’d had the greatest night since…I can’t remember when. That was not the way I expected it to end. I was thinking more like cuddles in the early morning and breakfast.

  I tried going back to sleep, but it wasn’t working, so I finally got up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. As I rolled into the kitchen, my eyes went up to the cabinet where I keep the coffee. I was suddenly pissed off all over again. She didn’t bother to think about leaving me here where things weren’t up to accommodate half a man. I knew it wasn’t not her fault, but I needed someone to blame. I pushed myself up to the counter and used my arms to lift myself up. I stood on the toes of my good leg and reached up with one arm to get the coffee out of the cabinet. I pulled it open and the motion of the cabinet set me off balance. I fell into the chair – which I had forgotten to lock. It rolled back and I fell and struck the back of my head as I went down. The pain shot through me like a rocket and I think I may have blacked out for a few seconds. When I regained my bearings I was lying on the cold floor in nothing but my boxers and my head was throbbing. I reached back and touched the spot that hit the floor. It was wet and my hand came back covered in sticky, crimson blood. Shit!

  I sat up and waited until the room stopped spinning before I pulled my chair close and put the brakes on. It took me a couple of tries but ultimately I got up on one knee so that I could grab the counter and pull myself up. Once I was on my feet, I reached back and struggled to get the locked wheelchair pulled up behind me. In the meantime, I could feel the warm blood flowing down my back. It seemed like there was a lot of it. I rolled back to the bedroom and got my phone. It was four forty-five. Dad would be up getting ready for work, but I hated the idea of asking him to take more time off. Sarah would get up and come get me, but she would have a thousand questions. I could call an ambulance, but I thought that would be over-reacting a bit… Finally with a resigned sigh, I called the man I had sworn to never ask for anything ever again: Greg.

  “Dude, it’s like the middle of the night. Are you okay?”

  “Not really. I need a ride to the hospital.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said without asking any questions. It made me feel a little bit like an ass for the way I felt about him lately. “Are you at your dad’s?”

  “No I’m at my loft.”

  “In the Penny’s building?”

  “How is it you know so much about my life when we’ve barely spoken in years?” I was asking the guy for a favor so now probably wasn’t the best time to question him, but what the hell?

  “Sarah and I talk,” he said. “I’m on my way.” He hung up and I shook my head at both him and my nosy sister. My head hurt, like a mother fucker.

  *******

  “Okay,” the ER doctor said as he snapped off his gloves. “All stitched up.”

  “How bad is the bald spot?”

  Before the doctor had a chance to say anything, Greg said, “Which one?” I just had the staples taken out from the surgery two weeks ago and my hair was only starting to grow back in that spot. Now, I had another one.

  “Shut up.”

  “Sorry… I meant to say, you remember Old Man Smith from down the street?”

  I flipped him off. Old Man Smith lived in our neighborhood when we were kids. He had literally three hairs on his head that he combed every day. Greg laughed.

  “You might want to think about not staying alone until you get stronger,” the doctor told me. “You’re only six weeks out from brain surgery. That’s serious stuff.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been staying with my dad. I just spent last night at my own place.”

  “Okay, good. What have they got you on for pain?”

  “I was taking OxyContin for a couple of weeks, but I haven’t taken them for over a month now.”

  “Wow, tough guy, huh? Okay, I’ll prescribe you some Vicodin to take as needed.” I probably wouldn’t take them. I hated that doped up feeling pain meds gave me, but I didn’t argue with him. I was tired now and I just wanted to go home.

  “You know if we don’t call your sister she’s going to be pissed when she sees those stitches?” Greg said when the doctor had left the room.

  He was right, but it was kind of pissing me off that he was suddenly so close to my sister. “I’ve already got one sister, Greg. You’ll have to apply to be someone else’s.”

  “Ha ha, you’re hilarious. Should I call her…or will you?”

  “Fuck, hand me my phone.” He handed it to me and the first thing I looked for was a missed text or call from Amber. There was nothing. I pressed Sarah’s number and took a deep breath while I waited for her to answer.

  “Kyle?” she said in a sleepy voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry to wake you up-”

  “I’m up,” she interrupted sounding instantly more alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine. I had a little fall-”

  “You fell? Where? Was Dad there?”

  “Take a breath please, Sis. I was at the loft; I stayed there last night-”

  “What? You’re kidding, right? You’re not strong enough to be on your own yet.”

  “Sarah, if you’re not going to let me talk, I may as well hang up now.”

  “Fine…talk.”

  “I had a date last night. I stayed at the loft. I slipped and fell and banged my head on the floor. Greg came and took me to the hospital.”

  “Greg? You called Greg instead of me?” Jesus Christ, this woman!

  “I thought one was the next best thing to the other since the two of you seem to talk all the time about everything…”

  “Don’t be a smart mouth, Kyle. Who did you have a date with?”

  “Never mind. I’m gonna go now. The doctor just came back in.”

  “Wait…Kyle…”

  “Bye, Sis!” I rolled my eyes, and Greg grinned. I think it’s time for another ass beating…as soon as I can stand on my own two feet.

  After the doctor really did come back and the nurse had me sign all of the discharge papers Greg said, “Breakfast?” I started to say no out of habit, but then I figured what the hell. I never got to have my coffee.

  “The Waffle House?”

  “IHOP.”

  “I’m the guy with the gash in his head.”

  “I’m driving.”

  “Fine, IHOP.” He grinned again. He definitely needed an ass whooping.

  When we got to the restaurant, we were shown to a table and we ordered right away. The server was around our age and really cute. Greg didn’t waste any time turning on his charms. After she left he said, “So, who was the date with?”

  “Why do you ask? So you can run and tell my sister?”

&nb
sp; He laughed. Every fucking thing was funny to this guy. “Nah, she’s the one with all of the good information.”

  “So tell me, how did that happen?”

  “How did what happen?”

  “You and Sarah becoming bestest buddies?”

  Laughing again, he said, “I ran into her in the grocery store one day. We got to talking and one thing led to the other…”

  “Ew, you can stop there if this goes any further than gossiping like two old ladies.”

  “Not that I don’t find your sister kind of hot for an older lady…”

  “Knock it off!”

  He was having way too much fun. “I’m sorry. It’s not like that and you know it. I miss you, man. It helps to have Sarah to talk to. I didn’t know what to do with myself when you cut me off.”

  “You slept with my girl.”

  “I know, and if it were the other way around, I would have reacted the same way. But do I get a life sentence for it? I’ve done my penance, man. For six years now I’ve lived without my best friend. Can we get past this at some point?”

  The waitress saved me. She brought our food and while we ate, I changed the subject to work. I found out he was running his dad’s business and that his parents had both retired and moved to Florida. Just as we were finishing our meal he said, “So…two questions you never answered, who was your date with?”

  “Amber.”

  He grinned. “Nice, man.” My face must have given me away because then he said, “Not nice?”

  “It was great. Probably the best date I ever had.”

  “Hmm, I guess that’s why you look ecstatic…”

  “It didn’t end well. She had to run off in the middle of the night because her ex-boyfriend was calling.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Ex? What did he want?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe I’m cursed.”

  “Or maybe you have a lot of issues because of what your mom did to you.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Carpenter by day, psychologist at breakfast.”

  “Listen, I know what Lisa and I did to you was fucked up. I was drunk and high and stupid. I would have stuck it pretty much anywhere at that point and if I were you, I might have cut it off. But it’s been six years and you still act like it was yesterday. You already had issues with trust. Lisa and I just made it worse…and now, Amber.”

  “So, what are you saying? I should trust blindly?”

  “No. I’m saying I understand your issues with trust, but in Amber’s case, I can see you really like her. Maybe you should give her a chance to explain before you just write her off.”

  The waitress laid the check down on the table and I picked it up. “I’ll get that,” he said.

  “Nah, I’ve got it. We can call it payment for the session, Dr. Freud.”

  “I think you very much want to sleep wit yur mudder!”

  I had to laugh at his terrible impression, if not the sickness of the statement. “Fuck you, Freud.”

  Chapter Twelve

  AMBER

  I was almost in tears as I raced out of Kyle’s loft and down to my car. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely get the key into the lock. When I finally got into the car, I just sat there for a few seconds trying to prepare myself for the battle that was about to come. I sucked in enough air to settle myself down slightly and then I started the engine and drove towards Marlene’s house. The drive was about thirty minutes long, and I cussed everyone on the road in between. The anxiety was building up with each minute that passed.

  When I got close to the house, I was relieved to see there was at least no smoke and flames, but as I rounded the corner my stomach fell when I saw Dylan and two policemen in the front yard. I thought about just driving on by, but Dylan saw me. His dark eyes stayed on me until I parked the car and got out.

  “Here she is now,” he said. His speech sounded clear, for Dylan at three a.m.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Are you Amber Reed?” one of the officers asked me.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Is this man your boyfriend?”

  I looked at Dylan and hoped the disgust I was feeling wasn’t readily evident on my face. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” I heard the front door open behind me. My poor sister looked frazzled. I reached my hand out to her and she took it. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “I called the police because he was beating on the door and saying he was going to burn the house down.”

  “I didn’t say that, you stupid-”

  “Watch it,” the cop warned him.

  “Sorry…Sir. I was looking for Amber and this one,” he said, looking at Marlene with disdain, “she wouldn’t tell me where she was. I was…worried.”

  “He wasn’t worried, he was jealous,” Marlene said. “And he did say he was going to burn my house down. I have a six-year-old daughter. He woke her up and scared her to death.”

  “Lying cunt,” Dylan mumbled under his breath.

  I’d come over here with the idea that I would calm him down, even go home with him if that’s what it took. That word always sets me off, however, and without regard to how long they would keep him or what he would do to me when he was out I said, “I have proof that he said it.” Dylan and Marlene both looked at me with shock on their faces. I hate that I’ve become the woman that everyone thinks is comfortable being the victim. “Can I play the message for you, sir?”

  “Sure,” the cop said. The look he was giving Dylan told me this cop would love nothing more than to see him cuffed and in the back of his car.

  “Amber…” Dylan began.

  “Shut up,” the second cop interrupted him. I pulled up the voicemail and pressed play. Dylan’s voice wafted out. “Where the fuck are you, Amber? If you’re out whoring around, I suggest you get your ass back to your sister’s house now before I burn this mother-fucker down with her and whoever else is in there inside.”

  When the message finished playing the cop said, “Can you show me who the message is from?” I showed him where it said Dylan’s name and number. He looked over at my former boyfriend and said, “That sounded an awful lot like a terrorist threat to me, Mr. Lane.”

  “I was mad. You can check me and my truck man; I don’t even have a light.”

  “He carries his handgun in the compartment underneath the floorboard of his pick-up. There are also matches and other emergency supplies in there. I think if you check the back end of his pick-up, you’ll find a five gallon container of gas.” I heard myself, but still couldn’t believe I was saying these things right in front of him. If the look on his face was any indication, I was going to be in a world of hurt when he got out of jail.

  “You little bitch!”

  “Mr. Lane, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  “You’re under arrest sir for making terrorist threats-”

  “You’re going to be sorry, bitch!” he said as the cop slammed him forward into the wall of the house and pulled his beefy arms behind his back. “You fucking little-”

  “I’d shut up now if I were you,” the cop said. “You have the right to remain silent…” While they read Dylan his rights, Marlene gripped my hand so tightly that it hurt. Dylan quieted down, but the after the cop cuffed him and led him over to the car, the look he gave me sent a surge of fear ripping through my body.

  The second cop was searching the truck. He found the gun that I knew for a fact wasn’t registered. Dylan had bought it off of one of his rodeo buddies and the serial numbers were filed off. He also found the matches I knew Dylan carried for those nights on the road when he had to camp out and the gasoline he always carried in back for those long stretches on the country roads in between gas stations. All I could hope at this point was that they’d keep him at least for a while.

  Once he was in the car, the first cop came back and explained to Marlene and me how to file for a restraining order for when he did get
out. He said one of the terms if he did get bail would be to stay away from those that he had threatened. That didn’t make me feel a lot better. Dylan does what Dylan wants and ninety percent of the time, he doesn’t consider the consequences. He was currently staring daggers at me from the backseat of the police cruiser. I wouldn’t be surprised if I suddenly burst into flames.

  “Let’s go in out of the cold,” Marlene told me as the cop was driving away. We went inside and she put on a pot of coffee. There was no way that either of us was getting any sleep now, anyways.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She made her face that I call, “Mom face.” She looks just like our mother when she does it. “What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything. As a matter of fact, I’m really proud of you for standing up the way that you did.”

  I shrugged. “I feel so bad for getting you and poor little Nona involved in all of this. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. I told her Uncle Dylan was sick and the police were going to come and take him to see the doctor. She bought it, and she’s sleeping like an angel now. But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “Part of this craziness with that man is you taking responsibility for the things that he does. He did this tonight, and you are not to blame for it. I’m going to go and get that restraining order Monday morning…I hope you are, too.”

  “I will, but you know that a piece of paper won’t make a difference to him when he’s drunk.”

  “I do know that, but I want to make sure if he does show up and I call the police, he leaves here in handcuffs every time. Eventually, maybe he’ll get sick of it and stay away.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just wish he’d find someone else…”

  Marlene laughed. “You’re wishing him on some other poor woman?”

  I laughed, too. “True, I guess that’s bad, huh? The thing about Dylan is none of this is about how he feels about me. This is about him thinking I’m his property and hating to be alone when he’s home.”

  “You have to prove to him that you don’t belong to anyone but yourself. How did your date take your sudden departure?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I may have ruined it. I was freaking out worrying about you and Nona. I told him I had to leave because you were sick, but he saw Dylan’s name pop up on my phone. He wasn’t happy with my sketchy explanation.”