Rooter (Double H Romance)

by Smith, Teiran

  To track him down, Rooter has asked me for a list of Mike’s friends and possible addresses. I’ve prepared the list, but before I hand it over I need to tell Miranda what’s happening. She should be home from work any minute.

  I’m not asking for it to go well. There’s no way it will. Just let it be better than her tearing into me and throwing me out on the street. And please let her be in a good mood when she gets home. If she’s had a bad day at work, I’m screwed. Rooter offered to be here when I tell her, but that’d probably make things worse.

  Miranda opens the front door right on time. I know I had hoped for her to be in a good mood, but seeing the enormous smile on her face makes me feel guilty because I’m getting ready to erase it.

  The extreme heat isn’t helping. It’s an unusually hot day. It’s nearly ninety degrees outside. A rarity for our area anytime of the spring or summer. And if it happens it’s typically not until mid to late August. It’s only June. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

  The instant she sees me her face falls. “Oh no. What happened now?” She sets her purse on the table before sitting next to me. “Is it Candace again?”

  I shake my head. “Mike,” I croak.

  She leans forward with bowed shoulders. “What did he do?”

  “It’s about my car. Rooter assumes it was he who did it.”

  She shakes her head with a sad expression. “He’s probably right.”

  I look away from her. “He’s looking for him.”

  “I figured as much,” she responds casually. I glance up at her. She rubs her forehead with her thumb and index finger. “Do you know what he’s going to do?”

  I sit forward and wring my hands together. Rooter’s admission that it would likely involve Mike’s hands give me visions of him smashing his fingers with a hammer. “Not exactly, but I’m sure it won’t be pretty.”

  “I love my brother.” She places her hand on my leg. “But if it was him, and I’m sure it was, he deserves to pay for what he’s done.”

  Wow. She’s taking this a lot better than I thought she would. I sigh in relief. “I don’t want this coming between us.”

  “It won’t, Soph. It’s his own fault. He’s just so damn stupid!”

  I pick at a piece of lint on my shirt. “Rooter has asked me for a list of all of his friends and possible addresses.”

  “You have to do what you have to do and I accept that, but I won’t participate. I hope you understand.”

  She thinks I’m asking her to give me the information. I shake my head. “I didn’t expect you to. I’m just letting you know what’s going on and what my level of involvement is.”

  “I appreciate it, Soph.” She rests her elbows on her legs and rubs her face. “Can you do me one favor?”

  I have an idea what she’s getting ready to ask. “Yeah?”

  “Can you please ask Rooter to go easy on him?”

  “I already have,” I assure her, but don’t bother to tell her it isn’t likely.

  “Thanks,” she says and pats my leg and stands. “And in other, much more exciting news, Bear is on his way to pick me up.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re going to Skyles for dinner.”

  I’m envious of Miranda. It’s too soon to be sure, but so far it would seem Bear doesn’t have any pregnant skanks chasing after him day and night. Miranda gets to go on dates with him without being interrupted by texts and phone calls. She doesn’t have to try to figure out where she’ll fit in once his newborn child is born. She certainly doesn’t have to put up with coming second to another woman.

  Rooter and I got into another tiff after Candace texted him yesterday. Of course she said it was an emergency, and he rushed over to her place. There was no emergency. When she called she said she felt cramps, but the moment he got there they passed. I don’t buy any of it. Rooter on the other hand isn’t sure. I asked him if he was going to run to her every time she faked a crisis. He said as long as she’s pregnant he’s obligated to be there when she says she needs him. At this rate, he’ll be there every day. And I’ll be sitting around, waiting in the wings.

  It’s Friday night and Ryan and I are in his living room having an after work drink. It’s been a hell of a night. Ryan’s house is the perfect place for a little rest and relaxation. The lights are dim and soft music plays in the background. Rooter wasn’t thrilled when I told him I was staying the night here because he knows the reason why; I need a break from him, and us, and all of our issues.

  Rooter is on edge about Mike. I’m on edge because of Candace and Mike. Between Rooter looking for Mike, running to Candace every time she calls, and our conflicting schedules, we haven’t spent any quality time together. The only time we’re really together is when we’re sleeping.

  He hasn’t tried anything since the night of Miranda’s birthday party. We barely even kiss. He can probably sense I’m not into it right now. Perhaps he’s not into it either. There’s too much going on. And it’s difficult for me to feel romantic or sexy with him when he’s been hanging out with Candace all afternoon. He’s literally seen her every single day since he found out she’s pregnant.

  I sit cross legged on Ryan’s gray sectional, he’s turned toward me with one leg tucked under him. “She calls every day,” I drone and take a swig of Jack. “Multiple times, whining about being sick.”

  “How far along is she?”

  “A little over a month.”

  “She could have morning sickness by now.”

  The only sickness she has is mental. I take another sip of the whiskey. “Yeah, but she claims she has morning, noon, and night sickness. And that’s not even the worst of it!” I slap the couch. “The lying cow claims she’s having cravings already. Cravings don’t start until the second month.”

  The way she calls freaking out over every little thing got me thinking. I figured a little research would help Rooter decipher a true emergency from her using her condition to get his attention. I must’ve spent four hours online reading everything I could about what to expect during pregnancy.

  Ryan raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his bourbon. “How do you know?”

  “I looked into it.” Ryan nods without asking for details and I continue. “I tried telling Rooter, so he’d stop running over there every damn time she calls, but he says as long as she’s pregnant he has to go.”

  Ryan tilts his head to the side. “He’s not entirely wrong, but it’s not like she’s bedridden.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Exactly my point!” I pour another shot into my glass. “Wednesday night, we were curled up in his bed, halfway through a movie we’d rented on cable when she called begging him to take her some fried chicken.”

  Ryan’s eyes go wide. “No fucking way!”

  “Way!”

  “And he did it?”

  “Of course! Baby momma calls and he goes running.”

  Ryan sets his glass down and turns to face me directly. “He can’t do that to you. She isn’t bloody helpless.”

  “Oh, but it gets better.” I scoot closer. “He asked if I wanted to stay or go. Of course I went. I stayed in the car and when she opened the door, the trollop was in red lingerie with her robe hanging wide open!”

  Ryan’s jaw drops. “That bitch didn’t call him over for chicken.”

  “Hell no she didn’t!” I toss back the rest of my drink and slam the empty glass on the coffee table. “Rooter told her I was in the car waiting and she grabbed the sack of food and slammed the door in his face.”

  Ryan shakes his head in disgust. “She probably throws herself at him every time he goes over there.”

  “I know she does and it makes me sick.” I press my lips together in a thin line.

  Ryan shifts forward and looks me in the eyes intently. “He has to draw a line. He can’t allow her to dictate every second of his life. At this rate, you’ll never have a relationship. Not a real one anyway.”

&n
bsp; He’s right. I take a deep breath and sigh.

  Ryan cups my chin. “Put your foot down, babe. Demand that he makes uninterrupted time for you.”

  That would be nice, but it isn’t completely possible. “Club rules state he can’t turn his phone off.”

  “Fine, then he needs to not answer her calls when he’s with you.”

  Like that’ll happen. My shoulders bow as I sit hunched over and pick at a cuticle until it bleeds. I had nice nails before this whole Candace debacle. “It would be nice to have just one day to ourselves.”

  Ryan takes my hand into his. When I look up I see his caring, beautiful green eyes. “Babe, if he can’t make time for you the relationship will never last. Tell him that. It might make him think twice.”

  “I don’t want to put more pressure on him.” I turn away. There’s a very real chance I’ll lose him as it is. If I add to his list of demands and stress, I definitely will.

  “Hey,” Ryan forces me to look at him, “he did this. Maybe not purposely, but he did it just the same. If he wants to be with you, he needs to do right by you.”

  An hour later, I’m lying in the bed next to Ryan who’s already snoring when a light appears in the room. I turn to my left and see my phone is illuminated. I reach over and pick it up to see a text from Rooter.

  Rooter: Can’t sleep without u next to me.

  My heart flutters. It’s three in the morning and he’s thinking of me. He may not be able to make time for me, but at least he thinks of me. I stare at the screen and ponder texting him back. Maybe I should let him sweat it out for the night.

  Yeah. That’s exactly what I should do.

  I pull into my driveway at eleven thirty in the morning to find one of Rooter’s club members straddling his bike. I’ve seen the guy before, but never met him. He’s older, maybe mid-forties. By the time I open my car door, he’s standing before me.

  “I’m Sparrow,” he says and extends his hand to help me out of the car. He has kind blue eyes, but his skin is like leather. “Rooter sent me to wait on you.”

  I take his hand and step out of the car. “Is everything okay?”

  He nods. “Said he couldn’t reach you. He found the guy who messed up your car.”

  My breath catches. Rooter has Mike. I yank my phone from my purse. Sure enough it’s dead. “Where is he?”

  Sparrow shakes his head. His shoulder length salt and pepper hair swings back and forth. “Can’t say. But he told me to tell you to call him the second you get here.”

  Without a word, I dart for my front door to get my phone charger from my room. I swiftly unlock the front door, fling it open and sprint up the stairs as fast as my legs will carry me.

  “You gonna call him?” Sparrow hollers up the stairway.

  “Yeah,” I call out. “I need to plug my phone in.”

  My charger is already plugged into the wall. I have a bad habit of leaving it plugged in when I’m not using it. I plug the phone in and wait what seems like a month for it to come on. When it finally does, I call Rooter. He picks up on the third ring.

  “Where are you?” He snaps.

  “Home,” I answer, irritated. Who cares where I am? Where are you? Before I can ask, he interrupts.

  “Why haven’t you returned any of my messages?”

  I hear a muffled groan in the background. Something tells me it’s Mike. I start pacing. “Is Mike with you?”

  “Yeah,” he answers flippantly. “Why haven’t you called me?”

  “My phone died,” I answer impatiently and rake a hand through my hair. “Where are you?”

  “Sophie, I need to be able to reach you at all times. Do you understand that?”

  Seriously? I roll my eyes and huff. “I told you my phone died. How is Mike?”

  “He’s fine,” he barks. “Tell me you understand that I need to be able to reach you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I answer glibly, waving my hand, urging him to go on as though he can see me through the phone. “Where are you?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Anger boils to the surface and my face gets hot. I kick a lone sandal across my floor. “The hell you can’t! I need to know what’s going on!”

  “I have it under control. He’ll live. I promise.”

  “Rooter, dammit! What did you do?”

  “Not much.” His voice is low and menacing. “Yet.”

  Chapter 33

  The Reckoning & Revelation

  I stop moving. My body is so still that if someone stood right in front of me they might think I’m not breathing.

  Wait. I’m not breathing.

  This is what happens when I’m pushed beyond my limit. Right now I’m way beyond my limit.

  I hate the person Mike has become. Everything about him. I’ve known him nearly my entire life, but I no longer consider him my friend. But somehow, against all odds, I still consider him family.

  Miranda, on the other hand, I love with my whole heart. Our friendship isn’t perfect. We’ve had our ups and downs. But that’s because we’re more like family than friends. She’s the sister I never had.

  Miranda loves Mike regardless of his faults or flaws. And as screwed up as our situation is, the three of us are joined, irrevocably, as family. So I can’t knowingly allow harm to come to him, especially not on my behalf.

  Another thing that happens when I’m beyond my limit: I speak in a deep monotone voice. “Don’t. You. Dare. Hurt. Him.” I snarl into the phone.

  I think I hear Rooter gasp. “Sophie, he’s going to pay for what he’s done.”

  I close my eyes and inhale. “That isn’t your decision to make. It’s mine. And I’m telling you, you will not hurt him.”

  “Sophie—” he protests, but I cut him off.

  “No.” I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. I am seriously out of patience with him and this conversation. “If you’re smart, you’ll listen to what I’m saying.”

  When I open my eyes, Sparrow stands in my doorway with his mouth hanging wide open, his eyes bulge from their sockets. He knows I’m talking to Rooter. No one talks to Rooter this way and gets away with it.

  “Since when do you care what happens to this piece of shit?” The way his voice shakes tells me he’s fighting to keep his composure.

  Sparrow’s presence distracts me, causing me to lose my nerve. I turn away and look at the opposite wall. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. But you are going to listen to me.”

  “What?” He asks with a mixture of anger and astonishment.

  I continue in my wrathful monotone. “I’m done with all this shit.”

  “Sophie?” He sounds scared now, and it empowers me to continue.

  “You don’t get to dictate everything anymore.” I point at the air as though he’s standing in front of me. “It’s not all up to you anymore. I get a say in what happens.”

  “What is this really about?”

  He’s got to be kidding me. I no longer speak in monotone, but rather an ear-piercingly loud shriek. “It’s about you! And me! And how everything is completely fucked up! My life is more fucked up now than it was before I met you!”

  “I’m on my way.” He’s really panicking now.

  “Not until you let him go.”

  “I’m not letting him go,” he says, incredulous.

  “Then I won’t be here when you get here.” I mean it. If he won’t do what I say, I’m gone. I’m sure Ryan will let me stay with him for a while. He mentioned the other day his money is tight now that he’s living alone.

  “Babe—”

  A tremor of anger surges through me. I’m back to my angry monotone. “Do. Not. Babe. Me. Just shut the fuck up and listen.” It’s kind of nice using his own words against him.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m sure you’ve already done more than enough to scare him. Let him go. Then you and I are going to talk.”

  Rooter is quiet.

  “Did you hear me?”
>
  The sunlight floods through the window onto an upside down DVD and blinds me, but I don’t turn away.

  “I heard you,” he mutters.

  “Are you going to do what I’ve said?”

  After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I’ll be there in a half hour.”

  I tell Sparrow that Rooter is on his way, but he calls him anyway to confirm. Once he has confirmation he leaves, but not before wishing me luck.

  Twenty minutes later, Rooter bursts through my door without knocking. Any other time, I’d be nervous about our impending confrontation. But right now as I sit crossed legged on the couch I’m fully confident. I’m much too agitated to be nervy.

  For far too long, I have allowed others to dictate what happens in my life. I’ve let them govern how I feel and what I do. But not anymore. Relationships, be them romantic or platonic, should not be one-sided. It’s time I stand up for myself. It’s time I draw a line on what is and is not acceptable in my relationships, and I’m starting with Rooter.

  Everything seems to move in slow motion, from the front door swinging open to Rooter marching toward me. The room has become dark from the impending storm outside and is briefly illuminated by a strike of lightening. I inhale deeply and count to ten.

  I look around the room and memories of happier times come flooding into my mind. I’d give anything for Loraine to still be alive. If she was, so much would be different. Mike wouldn’t have gone off his rocker and I probably wouldn’t be with Rooter right now because Miranda and I’d be living in an apartment together somewhere.

  I’m not saying I don’t want to be with Rooter. I do want to be with him. Things are just so screwed up. I think I could get past Candace and even the pregnancy if I had more support from him; if I felt my feelings were understood and acknowledged. But ever since she told him about the baby, it’s as if I barely exist. I don’t want to come across as needy or clingy, but it’d be nice to feel as though I hold some importance to him.

  “Babe?” Rooter stands before me still as a clay sculpture with his hands hanging at his sides. I take in his expression but it’s unreadable.