by Nicole Snow
I'll give it up in a heartbeat, everything, if it lets me keep my wife. I need her love, her warmth, the family we just started working on together.
If Kayla and Brie think I'll roll over, and let go of the heaven I've just started to have, they don't have a fucking clue. I'll show them one billionaire baby daddy who's going to fight for his woman, and all the future kids he's having with her.
They think they know Hayden Shaw? They're about to meet me in my final, best form.
11
Oh, God (Penny)
I don't know a thing about Paris, but I'm deep in research mode, ever since Hayden told me to start looking at hotels. It was just when I was waking up and he was out the door, shortly before sunrise. After the goodbye and good morning kiss that's a hundred times stronger than the best espresso.
Hell, maybe I'll get to try the real kind if we skip down to Rome for a few days. He said he wants to take me all over Europe, starting with the city of lights, as soon as we know I'm pregnant, but before the symptoms hit.
I wonder if the rich French cuisine will help with baby driven cravings? I'm still thinking about it when I see a text from Katie pop up on my screen.
Katie: Sis, OMG. I'm so sorry. Just heard the news. Hope he's got heavy security because mom wants to kill him. Where are you staying now?
Me: Heard what? Kill? What, what, and what?
There's a long silence on the other end. Too long.
When she replies, there's about a dozen emojis in front of the link she drops, plus the words that tell me I'm about to get some terrible news.
Katie: Seriously, you haven't seen this yet? Ugh. Please don't shoot the messenger.
My finger trembles as I pull up the tweets. There's Brie's smiling mannequin face next to several sentences that make me want to run for the nearest bathroom.
Fourteen weeks pregnant. Father MIA. #DeadbeatBillionaireDaddy anyone?
Help a girl out. Tell the world you want my #DeadbeatBillionaireDaddy to pay up, man up, and shut the fuck up. #NoMoreExcuses
Tell Hayden Shaw it's time to be a man. Make this #DeadbeatBillionaireDaddy talk to his baby's mother. Every angry tweet, post, and email appreciated!
Worse, they've all gotten several thousand likes, comments, and replies. I can't even bring myself to pull up Facebook.
Bile rises in my throat. Bile, hot and thick as my own disbelief.
This. Isn't. Happening.
Oh, but it is. And Murphy picks the worst time in the world to hop on my lap. He's at least a full pound heavier from the grass fed organic cat treats I've been feeding him since I decided he should enjoy the billionaire lifestyle. It's like a furry cannonball landing on my legs. I swear, and he gives me one look before he senses the I'm going to kill you energy, beating a quick retreat.
My phone rings. It's probably Katie. I don't even look before I answer, hoping it'll stop me from laying down and suffering a panic attack alone.
“Hello, hello! So, have you filed for divorce yet, or what? I know a really kickass attorney if you're interested.” At first, I don't recognize the demon's voice on the other end.
When it hits me, I'm on my feet, breathing fire in and out out of my nostrils. Stomach acid churns, threatening to burn me alive, but not before I say my piece.
“You bitch.”
“It's Brie, actually, Priscilla. I'm hoping we can do the first name basis thing now that we've both been screwed over by the same selfish asshole. Girl-to-girl, I'm trying to give you an easy out before it hits the fan. That fifty-K diamond ring is going to feel awfully heavy when you see the child support I slam him with...assuming he doesn't come to his senses and do the right thing, I mean.”
“You're lying.” My fist falling on the thick glass window adds emphasis. “I don't believe it. Nothing you just crapped out on your little Twitter account. Hayden's going to sue you into the ground for libel.”
“Oh? Then I guess he'd better take it up with the reporters. They're doing a lot more damage with their gossip rags right now than I ever could.” It's like I can hear her shark-toothed grin appearing over the phone. My fingernails claw at the glass. “It's all true. The timing checks out, and you know it. I'm sure he'll demand a paternity test soon, and then you'll find out the awful truth, if you're dumb enough to stand by your man. I'm trying to save you from more hurt, Penny. He's very good at that. Guess he didn't tell you, we were at it constantly before the break up. Hate sex didn't fix us then, but it sure had unintended consequences.”
“No.” The jealousy is almost blinding. “No, you fucking –“
“Hey, look, this isn't easy for me either.” She cuts me off. “You think I like stuffing pickle rolls down my throat just to shut our baby up for a couple minutes? Never would've dreamed I'd like the damned things. But a woman's body does funny things when she's been knocked up by a deadbeat.”
There's no uncertainty in her voice. I hate her sick, taunting confidence. It's making me worry that this isn't just a horrible setup, or something Hayden's step-mom put her up to in a last ditch effort to derail his fortune, taking us down with it.
I need to be professional. Even if every single impulse inside me screams curses and death threats. For all I know, this call could be recorded.
What if she's trying to make it ugly? Drawing me into a trap?
“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Brie,” I begin.
“No, you listen. I'll tell you exactly what happens next. He's going to walk through that door any second, and send you up denial river in the SS Bullshit. We both know what's he like. Confident, charming, and so fucking gorgeous it's easy to give him the benefit of the doubt. It's easy to believe. He used to throw the L-word around like nobody's business, told me we'd be married in a year. He liked to say forever all the time, and pretended it was serious. Heavy, he called it. Ha, and he always followed it up with this magnificent bullshit about how he'd still be saying it when we were old, deaf, and in our wheelchairs. Always said he'd never thought about a family before I came along, too. Well, looks like we're having one after all – just a little differently than we ever thought after the smoke he blew up my –“
The phone drops. I can still hear her on the line for another minute, wondering if I'm there.
Forever. That was our word. Our love. Our promise.
Or so I thought.
The nauseous adrenaline throttling my heart since my sister's texts is starting to hurt. Everything she's said is familiar. Too honest. Too much like what he said to me since we decided we weren't pretending anymore, and we're really falling in love.
I've never hated another woman so much in my entire life. I try to tell myself it's because she's a filthy, stinking liar who will stoop to anything to ruin this, just like Hayden's step-mom.
But it might be there's another reason I want to find her, strangle her, and bury her in city concrete – or I would, if she weren't carrying an innocent fucking baby.
She could be telling me the truth. And if she is, she's going to drop down to the second most hated person in my heart.
I'm scared. How could she repeat what he said to me last night, practically verbatim, if he hasn't used the same lines on her?
There's one cruel explanation, the only one that makes any sense. I think my heart is about to break through my ribs.
I need to talk this through with Katie. Not that there'll be any easy answers there. She'll encourage me to run, and never look back, but at least she'll pretend to listen before she does.
I'm reaching for the phone on the floor when I hear the door. Mr. Mouth of Lies himself comes marching in, sees me, and doesn't stop until he's standing less than two feet away.
“Penny...you know.”
My eyes don't lie. I'm looking at him with shock, horror, maybe even hate.
“Love, no. Tell me you know it isn't true.”
“I don't know what to tell you, Hayden.” I stand up, so tall and straight my spine hurts, clenching my phone as hard as I can to blunt the
tears building in my eyes. “I saw the tweets. I talked to Brie. She told me –“
“Fuck her!” The explosive edge in his voice makes me jump. He stops just short of destroying the end table next to the sofa with a roundhouse punch, something I'm certain his ex-cage fighter body could do with ease. “Listen, I don't care what she said. It isn't true. You still love me, don't you, Penny? I'm asking for a little patience. We'll fight this. We'll bring every high paid law firm Kayla hasn't paid off to hit the bitch right between the eyes, and send her packing as soon as possible. I'll get the paternity test proving she's a filthy liar. We're suing the assholes in the media, too. All the jackals circling us, slamming me with lies. They'll retract every damned word about us. Look at me, love – look! We're going to get through this. Give me a chance. Please. Fuck, please.”
I don't know what's worse. The fury in his voice that's so much like how I imagine a cornered, bleeding lion, it scares me, or how he drops to his knees a second later.
Hayden crouches on the floor, grabbing my hand, a sick, strange mockery of the proposal we never had. Pleading with his eyes. Hot, desperate, and a little bloodshot.
“If it isn't true, then how did she know about forever?” I stare down at him, the words weak and faint when they come. “Hayden, how did she know to call it heavy? Why the fuck did she tell me you said you'd be with her when you grew old, shouting through her hearing aides, and everything else you said last night, before I slept like a baby?”
“What?” He's shaking his head. Anger curdles his gorgeous face. “You're kidding. I never said anything to her. She asked me about my ideal wedding, once, and I told her. I never promised her a fucking thing, love. You've got to believe me!”
I don't know.
I don't know what to believe. Not even my own eyes when they're taking in his angry, mournful, majestic body. Especially when he hasn't given me an answer – just denied it. Exactly what the bitch herself said he'd do.
“It's a bug. It's got to be,” he growls, ripping his hand away from me, and jumping to his feet. “Where is it?! If I find the fucks who planted it, I'm going to skin them alive, guaranteed. I'll –“
“Stop! This is insane.” So much for anything I say mattering. He's already got a huge European vase on its side, ripping out the decorative birch branch in his fist, and flinging it across the room.
It's too much. He's either lost his mind, or he's trying to throw me off with the most ridiculous explanation I've ever heard.
One thing's for sure – there's no stopping him. He races through the condo, scaring poor Murphy half to death, hurling priceless paintings and statues to the floor while he's looking for his white whale. Meanwhile, I'm wiping my tears, sneaking into my old bedroom, throwing everything that fits in the expensive oversized leather purse.
I have to get out of here. I need time to think. Murphy sits on my bed, curled up and blissfully tired after the crashing lessens. I bring my face down to his, nuzzling the tabby, and tearing up all over again when I see the unused pregnancy test sitting on my night stand.
“Be good while you're here, boy. I'll make sure we're together soon, wherever I end up.”
I change out of my heels, back into my cheap boots. It's the first time I've worn them since I moved in. If he's screwed me, lied to my face, then I don't want any reminders of our time here. Hell, I don't even want the money, the other half of what I'm owed for getting married in the first place.
He's on the phone, barking orders to what sounds like Reed when I start walking out. “Yeah, you heard me. The best bug sniffers in the whole city. No, I don't care how much it costs. Fly them in from the fucking NSA if you have to!”
I stop, long enough to shake my head, before we lock eyes. I'm not sure if he's serious, or putting on the greatest show on earth.
It makes me think of our wedding kiss. How he smiled for the cameras, lied through his teeth, and then kissed me like I'd just made him the happiest man in the world.
He didn't love me then. Is it so unfair to wonder if that's changed? If he's given up the gigantic lies he's perfectly capable of weaving?
What if he's stringing me along, giving me a story so I'll stay in something I wasn't totally comfortable with from day one? Maybe he's giving me one more grand lie. Readying to send me away with a baby and a broken heart as soon as it doesn't fit his lifestyle, or his legal trouble anymore.
He ends the call. We stand in the hall, next to his overturned lions and jaguars, which sounded like the apocalypse when he pushed them to the floor, searching for his spy chip.
“You didn't find it?” I swallow. It hurts, this thick lump in my throat.
“Not yet. I promise you, it's going to turn up. It's the only way she could've done it, known what to say. I'll do whatever I have to if it makes you believe I'm not lying.” He moves toward me, his face more tense and severe than I've ever seen it. “Penny, we're on the same side. I need you on mine if we're going to fight this. I love you. How about it, beautiful?”
His fingers lace through my hair. He pulls each lock. Firmly, but gently. He makes me remember the lovely, heart thumping moments we've had in our short time together. Everything I thought meant something. What's going to kill me if it turns out they were just a lie, every last one of them.
“I'm sorry. I can't.” I pick up my bag and brush past him before he can pull me back. I have an idea how castaways feel, now that his safe, strong arms are a thousand miles away.
“Wait! Penny, please. Where do you think you're going?”
“None of your business,” I snap, stopping near the door. “I can't stay here like this. I'm going somewhere I can think, away from you, until your bug turns up and proves what you're saying is true. Unless, of course, you're going to have security stop me in the lobby.”
I shouldn't give him any ideas. But I can't stop my tongue from letting its venom loose, all the poison dredged up from my heart.
“You're abandoning me like this?” His fingers curl into fists, and the hurt in his eyes makes me fight every instinct to drop my bag, walk over, and let my lips find the truth on his.
No, I can't do that. I won't get sucked back in if everything he's said about love and our future is a lie.
“I'm sorry, Hayden. Really. Please, contact me as soon as it shows up. I want you to find it. I just need a little space.” Maybe I'm the one lying now, but I have to.
It's the only alternative to breaking down and screaming like a maniac, losing my mind because I can't tell who I should trust, or what I should think.
“Space, huh? Is that what I should've given you when I saw that man going after you on the train? When I thought we'd make this more than pretend, and I'd give you a baby because I fucking want to? Not because your biological clock keeps self-destructing as we speak.”
One, two, three arrows. Straight through the heart. I take my hand off the doorknob, and reach for my ring finger. I hesitate.
No, I can't do it. My heart will rip in half if I throw this ring, this symbol of our love, right at his rotten face.
“Wait, wait, wait...I'm sorry.” It comes out of his mouth like a gasp, and he stares at his feet, ashamed before he looks up. Or is it just another act? “Penny –“
“No. I'm leaving until I know you're not a liar. You know damned well I'm not abandoning you.” I look back, staring at him as long as I can before searing tears blister my eyes shut. “Goodbye, Hayden. Take care of Murphy. I'll tell Reed where to send him as soon as I know.”
“For fuck's sake, love, you've got to stop. You can't do this! You can't just walk out and –“
I do.
Next thing I know, I'm embarrassing myself in the back of an Uber, my face buried in my hands, crying helplessly. I'm about one one-hundredth through my sobbing fit by the time the car goes into the suburbs, toward Katie's place, where I can look forward to her I told you so crap, while Will awkwardly avoids the scene.
It didn't have to be this way.
It shouldn't be.
Goddamn you, Hayden Shaw. I believed in us.
12
Over the Cliff (Hayden)
It's about forty-eight sleepless hours before Reed manages to drug my coffee. I've spent them combing my condo with specialists, tearing everything apart, looking for the bug I believe they've hidden in my place, the one that's fucked me over and stopped Penny from taking my calls.
Nothing. That's what we find.
Everything goes from bad to worse on the media end, too. Before I can raise hell about a court ordered paternity test for Brie, the bitch counters.
She's already had one – or that's what she's telling the whole world – and the results are clear. The baby growing inside her is unquestionably mine. A perfect DNA match, drawn straight from my own blood.
I don't know what to think.
Lies? Exaggerations? Or a bitter truth I don't want to accept?
I'm not ready to believe anything with certainty. There are a thousand ways to fraud. She could've paid someone in the medical establishment to falsify the results, or God forbid, actually done the tests with legit blood I have somewhere on file.
The biggest hospitals in Chicago still have a couple pints of Hayden Shaw, unfortunately. All because of a fallout my old man had years ago with a Saudi developer, who told him he'd see his children stabbed on the streets if he didn't fly to Dubai, and fight the jackass to save his honor on live TV.
The assassins never materialized. But dad made all of us get blood drawn for several weeks, and store them with the hospitals, just in case we ever needed to show up for VIP transfusions.
Facing an anonymous blade sounds awfully good right now. Easy, compared to smoothing things over with Penny.
Nothing's worse than losing my wife forever.