“Can-dace is preg-nant,” I choke through my sobs.
Chapter 31
Complications & Arguments
I cry myself to sleep that night. When I dream, it’s of him; him and me, and him and Candace, and him and his baby. Him. Him. Him.
When I wake up, he’s sitting on the floor with his back against the door. I jolt upright.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.”
“Maybe I don’t want to see you.” I feel bad the instant I say it. His being here is actually kind of comforting, but it also irritates me. I need time to process everything. It’s just like him not to give me space.
Rooter gets up from the floor and crouches before me. It comes to my attention he’s in the same clothes from last night. Then again, so am I. I was simply too exhausted to bother with changing.
“How long have you been here?” I ask and wipe the sleep from my eyes.
“I came in about three thirty.”
I check the clock. “You’ve been here for six hours?”
Now that I take a good look at him, it’s evident he hasn’t slept. The skin beneath his eyes is dark and puffy. He looks haggard. Even haggard, he looks perfect. But this is exactly the kind of thought I can’t afford right now. I shake my head to try to clear my mind. It doesn’t matter how attracted I am to him. It doesn’t matter how I feel about him. We have a huge, possibly insurmountable problem.
When he speaks, it as though he can read my mind. “I realize this situation isn’t ideal. It’s not what you wanted. But we can get through it.”
“I’m not sure we can.”
He lists forward, panicked, and takes my face into his hands. “Don’t say that.”
I pull away and scoot to the headboard. “You’re having a kid. With Candace. How can you expect me to get past that?”
Rooter reaches out for me but I glare at him warning him not to touch me. He clasps his hands behind his head. “I realize I’m asking a lot of you, babe, but please…” He appears desperate. “I need you. I can’t do this on my own.”
He needs me? To do what exactly? Hold his hand? Tell him everything will be okay? Help him raise his kid? I’m not sure I can do those things. I don’t want to do those things.
When I got into this relationship, I didn’t sign up for a slutty, pregnant ex-whatever and I sure as hell didn’t sign up for a kid. I’m twenty one freaking years old. I still have another year of college. I want to make a life for myself. I’d hoped Rooter would be a part of my future. But in that future, I don’t see Candace and their kid.
“You’re not on your own. You have Candace.” I remark, snidely.
He shakes his head vehemently. His shoulders are tense and the vein in his forehead protrudes. “She’s the last fucking thing I want or need.”
You should have thought about that before you put your dick in her. That’s what I want to say, but don’t. “Well, that’s too bad because you’re stuck with her for the rest of your life.”
“Fuck!” He punches my mattress. “What have I done?”
His distress makes me want to reach out for him and comfort him. But I, too, am distraught. I can’t tell him everything will be okay or that we’ll work this out because I don’t know that it will be okay or if we will work it out. Yes, one way or the other, it will all work out, but not necessarily in the way he or I would hope. I’m very well versed in the harsh realities of life. In my experience, I’d say he’ll go on, become a father, and in a year’s time—give or take—our relationship will be a distant memory. I’ll be a distant memory.
But on the flip side, as angry as I am about the situation, my feelings for him haven’t changed. And that’s what makes this so damn hard.
“I need time to figure out if this is something I can do.” I push myself off of the mattress and go to my dresser. The reflection in the mirror can’t possibly be mine. The girl before me looks as though she’s aged ten years overnight. Her eyes are swollen and face is splotchy. “You’re not just asking me to deal with Candace now. You’re asking me to deal with you having a kid.”
Through the mirror, I see the muscles in his face tighten. “It doesn’t have to change us.”
“But it does change us.” I spin around to face him. “It changes you.” Can he really not see that?
Rooter explodes off of the bed and saunters to me, his face is red. “So that’s it? You’re done?”
“I—I didn’t say that.”
“It sure as hell sounds like it.”
“I…” I look to the floor unable to face him. “I just need some time.”
“If this was happening to you,” he tilts my chin up to face him, “I wouldn’t bolt. I’d stick by you.”
I furrow my brow and hold my hand to my chest. “Are you seriously trying to make me feel guilty?”
“I’m just telling it like it is. I thought you were stronger than this.”
“Don’t you understand?” Tears threaten to spill down my face. “I’m tired of being strong. I’m tired of being let down and left out.”
Rooter’s eyes bore into mine. “Sophie, I didn’t do this to you. I did this before you. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” He turns his back to me and drags a hand through his hair. “I’m not letting you down or leaving you out of anything. But if you walk away that’s exactly what you’ll be doing to me.”
Without looking back, he opens my bedroom door and leaves me alone in my room. A few seconds later the front door slams shut.
Ten minutes later I’m still in my room reeling from our conversation when he texts me.
Rooter: I had ur car towed to Molly’s Auto for repairs. I can take u to work later, or u can drive my truck. Let me know.
This is why I’m so crazy about him. Even though we’re fighting, even though we may never get past this, he’s still taking care of me. I text him back.
Me: Thank you for helping me. I’m not going to work today.
I literally just decided not to go to work when I read his text. I can’t go. I’m completely spent mentally and emotionally. Randy is better off without me today. Tuesdays are a light day anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal. After pressing send, I call Randy to inform him I won’t be coming in. While I’m talking to Randy, Rooter texts me again. After I hang up, I read the text.
Rooter: I’ll be here all day if u need anything or need to go anywhere. Or if u want to talk.
Rooter is sitting in his house, not thirty yards away, and we’re texting. Texting! I stare at my phone and debate whether I should call or text. I decide to text.
Me: I don’t want to fight. Please don’t be mad at me.
Four seconds after pressing send my phone rings. It’s him.
“Hey,” I answer on the third ring.
“I’m not mad at you, babe,” his voice is soft and kind. “I’m just mad in general. Mad at myself. And I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you. Of having a kid I didn’t plan for with a girl I don’t want to have it with.”
The vulnerability in his voice tugs at my heart. I can hear his fear. He really needs me. I know what it’s like to be let down by those I’ve needed when I needed them most. I can’t do that to him. Like he said, he didn’t do this to me. It’s simply an unfortunate circumstance; even if it was brought on by poor decision making on his behalf. We all make mistakes. He doesn’t deserve to be persecuted for his. What would it say about me if I was to tuck tail and run? The least I can do is try.
“I can’t promise you anything, Rooter, but I’m willing to take things day by day.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” His voice is barely more than a whisper. We’re both quiet for a moment before he speaks again. “Is it all right if I come over?”
It’s strange to hear him ask to come to my house. “Yeah.”
“Good, because I’m in your living room,” he chuckles, but it’s not an entirely happy sound.
Now that’s just like him. How did I not hear him come in? “I’ll be r
ight down.”
I examine my appearance in the mirror again though I don’t know why. I look exactly the same as I did last time I checked. Like hell.
When I reach the top of the stairs, Rooter is standing at the bottom with his hands in his pockets. When he sees me, his lips curl into the slightest of a smile. I return the gesture.
I stop and stand on the last step making us almost the same height. He takes one hand from his pocket and hooks a finger through my belt loop to pull me against him. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck and inhales. I drape my arms around his neck and breathe a sigh of relief at his nearness, swathed in a quiet calm. We stand in complete silence and hold one another for several minutes. Eventually he reaches for my hand and leads me to the sofa.
“I hate to bring this up, but we still have the issue of your car to deal with.”
I pull my eyebrows together, confused. “You said it was at Molly’s.”
He strokes the top of my hand with his thumb. His voice is quiet and soothing. “I’m talking about Mike. He needs to be dealt with.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. Fucking Mike. Since it wasn’t Candace, I must assume it was him. “What do you think we should do?”
He shakes his head. “We aren’t going to do anything. I will handle it.”
There’s a picture of Mike—the old Mike from high school—on the wall. He’s wearing his football Jersey, throwing a football during practice. Next to his picture is a photo of him and Miranda posing together the night of her Senior Prom. She didn’t have a date, so he escorted her. Those were much happier times for the both of them.
“Rooter, he’s Miranda’s brother. I need to know what you plan on doing.”
“He may be Miranda’s brother, but you’re my girl and by fucking with you, he fucked with me. He’s going to pay for it.”
Hearing him speak so possessively makes my heart flutter. I am his. Completely. And we both know it. It’s either going to work for me or against me.
“Pay how?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.
His jaw is set and there’s an evil glint in his eyes. “I’m going to show him what happens when he messes with me.”
“Rooter, I realize you’re used to handling these situations a certain way,” I reach out and take his hand, “but we have to be careful here. You need to keep Miranda in mind.”
“Why? He wasn’t keeping her in mind when he did this.”
“Because she’s my best friend. Mike is the only family she has left.” I point at the pictures on the wall. “It would kill her if something happened to him.”
“It’s not like I’m going to kill him,” Rooter sighs. “I’m just going to… Temporarily limit the use of his hands.”
“Rooter—” I start but puts his index finger against my lips and cuts me off.
“If we ignore this, the next thing he does will be much worse. I’m not willing to take that risk.”
“Can’t you just talk to him or something?”
Rooter shakes his head. “I’ve tried that. The only way I’ll get through to him is by paying him a visit.”
“We don’t know where he is.”
“That’s why I need his cell phone number.”
If Mike is the culprit, and he probably is, I want him to pay for what he’s done. But I’m not sure if exacting the kind of revenge Rooter is known for is worth the pain it would cause Miranda. “If Miranda finds out I had anything to do with Mike getting hurt, including giving you his phone number, she’ll hate me forever.”
“You don’t have to give it to me. Where’s your phone?”
I wave toward the stairs. “It’s in my purse in my room.”
Rooter gets up and sprints up the stairs. Thirty seconds later he appears before me with a scowl and a clenched jaw. His eyes are narrowed at the screen of my phone. He looks at me with a glint of anger in his eyes then looks back at the phone. His hands are shaking. He chucks the phone at me angrily, though not so hard as to hurt me, and hits me square in the chest.
“What the fuck is that?” He growls.
I look at the screen. There’s a text from Hayden: Hey beautiful. I’m thinking about you.
The first thought that comes to my mind is that Rooter knows my passcode. How the hell did he get it? I’ve never given it to him. But I don’t dare ask while he’s in his current state of mind. That’s a conversation for another time. Besides, I don’t have anything to hide.
I shrug in response to his question because I honestly don’t know why Hayden is texting me after all this time. And I don’t care. Frankly, it’s the last thing I’m worried about. I—we—have much bigger issues to deal with right now.
Rooter points at the phone in my hand, his nostrils flare. “Put an end to that, or I will and neither one of you will like the way I do it.”
I toss the phone on the coffee table and exhale harshly. “Rooter, it’s not a big deal. We went out once. It was nothing. He knows I have a boyfriend.”
My words do nothing to appease him. He’s just as agitated, perhaps more so. “Then remind him and make sure he doesn’t contact you again.”
I tilt my head to the side, not sure whether to be irritated or amused by his behavior. “Wait, so you’re telling me you’re pissed about a text from a guy I went on one date with and yet I’ll always have to deal with Candace?”
Rooter snatches my phone from the table and enters my passcode. He scrolls through and for an instant I think he’s going to call Hayden himself.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he ignores me. Very well. If he wants to make a fool out of himself with Hayden that’s just fine with me.
Rooter retrieves his phone from his back pocket and dials. “Rat, I need you to run a trace for me.” He rattles off Mike’s number.
Once he hangs up with Rat, he tosses my phone at me. I catch it and set it back on the table.
“You gonna call that guy or what?” He grumbles.
“Right now?” I ask.
He eyes me questioningly. “Is there a reason you don’t want to?”
“I think we have bigger issues than some guy sending me a random text.”
“Call him, now,” he growls, “or I will.”
I fling my head back and laugh. I can’t help myself. Rooter jealous over Hayden is priceless.
“You think this is funny?” He seethes through gritted teeth.
“You being jealous?” I snort. “I think it’s hilarious.”
Rooter’s face turns a deep shade of red. He’s severely pissed, and it makes me laugh harder. “Stop laughing, Sophie,” he barks.
Anyone else would quake in their shoes at the sight of him in this moment. He looks as though he might attack at any second, but I know better. He’d never hurt me. My phone, on the other hand, may not be as safe with the way he’s staring it down.
“I can’t! It’s just so ridiculous.” I clutch my stomach in hysterics.
“Ridiculous?” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll show you ridiculous.” He picks the phone up from the table and urges me to take it.
“You already have.”
“Call. Him. Now,” he fumes.
“He’s nobody, Rooter. He doesn’t warrant a phone call.”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” He punches something into the screen. “Hayden?” He snarls into the phone then pauses while Hayden speaks. “This is the guy who will shred your dick with a fork if you ever text or call Sophie Holt again… Good,” he says and hangs up the phone.
I’m not laughing anymore. “That was so unnecessary.” I yank my phone away. “And how do you know my passcode anyway?”
Rooter shrugs and sits casually on the sofa. How can he be so calm when only seconds ago he was a raging lunatic? “I’ve seen you enter it a thousand times.”
“And you remembered it?”
He shrugs again. “Is it a problem?”
“Of course not,” I cross my arms and tilt my head. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Are you insin
uating that I do?”
“Suspicious minds are often the result of a guilty conscience, and with your slutty, pregnant exes and all…” I trail off.
Rooter pulls his phone out of his back pocket and tosses it my way. “Code is zero-nine-two-six.”
My eyes go wide. Not because he told me his code, but because my birthday is September twenty-sixth. Maybe it’s coincidence. I hand his phone back to him. “I don’t need your code.”
He leans forward and slips it back into his pocket. “It’s one, not plural. And she isn’t my ex.”
I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “Yeah, it’s hard for her to be an ex when she’s still around.”
Rooter groans and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I thought you said you don’t want to fight.”
I sigh and fall back against the sofa. “I don’t. You started it.”
Rooter scoots closer, his thigh brushing the side of mine, and takes my hand into his. “I’m sorry. I lost my shit when I saw that text.”
“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?”
He hesitates for a moment before answering. “No babe, I don’t.” He rests his head on my shoulder. “I’m just crazy right now.”
That makes two of us. I drape a leg over his and squeeze his hand. We need a break so we can get back to being us. Actually, we need a break to figure out who the hell we are as an us. We’ve done nothing but endure turmoil since day one of our relationship. But I have a feeling we won’t be getting a break anytime soon. With that knowledge, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to relax and take in this quiet moment after the storm. And then his phone rings.
It’s Candace.
Chapter 32
Friends & Enemies
If I was a smoker, I’d be chain smoking right now. Instead, I sit on the couch drumming my fingers on the arm rest. My palms are slick from sweat and my eyes dart back and forth between the door and the antique clock on the wall.
Please let this go better than I expect.
It turns out Mike isn’t as dumb as one might believe. He no longer has the same phone number, and no longer has his job. Whether he quit or was fired remains to be seen. The sudden changes has Rooter on edge. He thinks Mike is up to something and wants to make it as hard to be found as possible.
Rooter (Double H Romance) Page 25