Butt Ending: A Big Stick Novel 2 (Standalone)

by R. C. Stephens

  “Oh, okay.” I shrug, even though a number of questions run through my mind. How could it be a long time ago if she just moved to the city like six months ago? There is also the fact that Nils only came here from Sweden a couple years ago. I don’t understand how or when their paths have crossed, but it is clear she doesn’t want to talk about it, so I don’t push. “Enjoy the swim.”

  I head for the tent. The place is set up with tables and chairs. A long buffet table lines the back wall and is covered in food and drinks. Myles and Flynn went overboard with hosting.

  “I see my brother can’t stay away from you,” Flynn says from behind me. I guess she caught our little conversation outside.

  My eyes take in all the delicious food on the table while I decide what to eat. In reality, I want to hide my face so Flynn won’t see how mentioning her brother affects me.

  “That’s not actually the case,” I reply with a steady voice while picking up a plate. I place a burger slider on my plate and some cubed melon.

  “Right. Enough about Oli.” Flynn nods solemnly. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” She rubs my arm, and we walk over to one of the tables. I pop a piece of the cool, fresh melon in my mouth and it really hits the spot.

  I shrug. “Not much. The usual. Work, Krav Maga, hanging out at home.”

  The Krav Maga part is a lie. I stopped going this week. I told Sierra it was because I was under the weather. I have become a horrible, disgusting liar. I hate it.

  “It’s the last one that worries me,” Flynn says, referring to my endless nights home alone on the couch binging on Netflix.

  “Nah, if I get too lonely then maybe, I’ll leave for India and become a sex guru like Mom.” I waggle my brows. Then I won’t be lonely because I will surround myself with people who want to learn how to have titillating orgasms without penetration.

  Flynn laughs for a moment, but her amusement dies fast. “I’ve never met your mom, but I can’t see you enjoying that lifestyle.”

  I take a long breath and exhale. “True, it’s not me. I was just making a bad joke, I guess. I don’t know, Flynn. I’m good with just laying low for now,” I reply, hating that I feel like I have to keep things from my best friend.

  “Yeah, sure.” She shrugs, even though I can tell my personal life weighs heavily on her.

  I dig in and eat my slider. “Mmm. This is really good.”

  Flynn laughs.

  “How about you, honey? How you holding up around here?” I ask, looking at the space around us. It’s so big and extravagant; she wasn’t raised with this kind of money, plus she’s a new mom. She has a lot on her plate.

  “I’m really happy, Sloane.” She smiles, and her blue eyes twinkle. “I just want you to be happy too.”

  “I’m working on it, schnookums. Just give me time.” I inhale the slider, then head over to the table for another, followed by a crab cake. Flynn pushes the stroller over since we heard one of the babies stirring. All the food I’m devouring hits the spot until I take the last bite of crab cake and my stomach stirs and makes a growling sound. It wasn’t such a good idea to go ninja on the buffet.

  I begin to heave, which puts me into alarm mode. I can’t hurl here. I can’t hurl in the backyard bathroom either. Someone will hear me. Panic sets in as I worry that my cover will be blown. Me eating a ton of food and enjoying it is completely normal. Me barfing right after isn’t.

  “Uh, Flynn? Is it okay if I head over to the main house? I think I need some Tums. That last crab cake just did me in.” I laugh it off, even though I fear my ability to keep it together.

  Flynn is trying to get Patty to take the pacifier. She turns her head to look at me. “Of course. You know where the meds are, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I run off toward the house, leaving out the back of the tent to avoid any of the other guests just in case my food comes up before I make it to the washroom.

  The back door to the kitchen is open and I walk straight through the kitchen to the powder room. Once I’ve locked the door, I let out a breath and heave over the toilet. All the food I ate comes pouring out of me. It’s freaking nasty. I hang over the toilet a little longer to make sure I’m done, then I wash my mouth and face with cold water. A glance in the mirror tells me I look pale and maybe a little green. Shit. I didn’t even bring my purse in here to fix my makeup.

  I stay in the restroom a little longer to gather my wits about me. I hate vomiting.

  That’s when I hear voices coming from the kitchen. It sounds like Oli followed by female laughter. I freeze. Holly fucking hell. This can’t be happening. “Kierran.” I hear Oli’s demanding voice followed by a bout of laughter from the girl. Fuck.

  “I know how you like it. Just let me get down on my knees. I won’t make you beg,” a sultry voice coos, and holy fuck, my heart starts pounding so fast I think it may explode. I need to get out of here. I need to get far away. But how?

  The powder room is abnormally large for a bathroom, so I begin to pace. After a few seconds, the walls feel like they are closing in on me. He told me there wouldn’t be any other women while he was trying to figure things out. Tears begin to well in my eyes, but I fight them back.

  I slowly turn the knob on the bathroom door and tiptoe my way to the staircase, taking feather-light steps up the staircase, hoping Oli and his bunny stay put in the kitchen where it sounds like their voices are coming from. The thought of a bunny going down on him causes bile to rise at the back of my throat. I feel tired, weak, and emotionally spent.

  Once I get to Flynn’s room, I pick up the phone and dial Sierra’s number. After about five rings she finally answers, only it isn’t Sierra; it’s a male voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It sounds like Nils because of the accent.

  “Hello, hello.” The Swedish accent radiates through the phone. Why is he answering her phone?

  I straighten my shoulders and decide to use a fake accent. “Hello, this is Nadia calling from the network. Is Sierra there please?” My accent seems to come across as half British, half Australian. I hope Nils doesn’t catch on to the farce.

  “Give me the damn phone.” I hear Sierra’s angry voice in the background. What in the hell is going on there?

  “Would you chill out?” Nils’s Swedish accent comes through the line. “We need to talk, but you should take the phone,” he says. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Sweat breaks out on my forehead as my need to flee heightens.

  “There’s nothing to say,” I hear Sierra respond solemnly, and I hope she takes the darn phone already. I don’t know what happens next between them, but then Sierra’s voice comes through the line.

  “Hello?” she asks questioningly.

  I blow out a breath. “Phew! It’s me. Listen, I need you to discreetly gather my things and meet me out front. I’ll wait for you by the bushes on the right just at the entrance to the driveway.”

  “Sloane?” she asks.

  “SSH!” I tsk. “Yes, I don’t want anyone to know it’s me. Look, I can’t explain right now. Can you please make up an excuse that you have to leave?” I plead, feeling like my heart is splitting in two. “Please don’t let anyone know it’s me you’re speaking to. Please, Sierra. I’m sorry. I just need to get the hell out of here. Fast.”

  “Uh yeah, sure. No problem.” Her voice comes out wary, and she doesn’t appear to be the best actor. Hopefully she can leave under the radar, because if Flynn gets hold of her, she won’t want her to leave. Flynn will ask about me and, well, everything will turn into a big mess. “See you soon.”

  “’Kay. Bye.” I hang up then tiptoe to the door and peek out to see if I can hear or see anyone. The coast is clear.

  I quietly head back down the stairs and walk straight for the front door, hoping no one will spot me leaving. As I step across the threshold to the entrance of the house, I pick up pace. I walk down the driveway toward the gate. When I reach the end of the drive, I hide by the little green bushes. My heart beats fast as I wait for Sierra. Sweat trickles down my neck from the heat of
the sun, but worst of all, my heart aches not only for me, because, hell, I held out hope Oli would find his way to me, but also for the little baby in my stomach because even though I do plan on telling Oli about the baby one day, he and I can never be together. I could never trust someone like him.

  I wrap my arms around my middle in a protective stance as I wait for Sierra to pick me up. A small glance through the gate tells me she’s backing out of the Sanders’s driveway. This day seems bittersweet. It reminds me of the way Parker left. I had felt so betrayed then too. It was like a stab in the back, one I didn’t see coming, yet with Parker, he wasn’t well. I know I shouldn’t blame him, but I also can’t help myself either. With Oli, it feels the same: a stab in the back from a guy who actually admitted to my face that he couldn’t settle down and have a relationship. He was honest, straightforward, and yet I wanted to believe he could be what I needed him to be so bad that I waited for him . . . gah! Everything is such a fucking mess.

  Sierra pulls up to the curb in her little red Toyota. “You wanna get in and tell me what the hell is going on?” she says, after rolling her window down. Her tone is laced with concern. I want to ask her the same question about Nils, but she isn’t the one who just planned a great escape and is now in a getaway car.

  I take a seat in the passenger side, giving her a sidelong glance while trying to hide the pain in my heart that must be clear as day on my face. Sierra drives away while I adjust the vents to allow the AC to blow on me. I inhale and exhale slowly, trying to gain composure, but I’m unsuccessful. How could I have been such a fool? To believe that Oli, Mr. Hot Hockey Player, would abstain from sex for little old me?

  Sierra clears her throat, pulling me from my thoughts. I have some explaining to do. “Thanks so much. You really saved me back there. I’m sorry to pull you away from the party, but I ate a bad crab cake and feel sick. If I’d told Flynn she’d have gotten all worried and would want to take care of me and, well . . .” I blow out a breath and lean back in the seat. “I didn’t want to ruin the party.” Liar, liar pants on fire. When did I learn to lie so well? Sheesh.

  I don’t miss the curious look Sierra gives me. But I can’t tell Sierra about the baby before Oli knows. That wouldn’t be fair to him.

  She continues to eye me curiously. “If you want to talk or if you need some advice, I’m here and willing to listen,” she says, blowing out a breath.

  “Thank you.” I force a smile.

  The rest of the car ride home is quiet. As I sit back and stare out the window I take in the Chicago skyline. When we reach the curb in front of my apartment building, I turn to look at Sierra. “I’m so sorry for messing up your day.”

  Her lips turn into a thin line and worry creases the corners of her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I mean, it was fun and thank you for bringing me along, but honestly, I’m worried about you, Sloane. You’ve been off your game these last few weeks.”

  “I know; I’m just going through something. I’m sure it’s just a bump or a glitch. It’ll pass.” I want to bite my own tongue for giving that explanation because soon, my stomach will have a bump.

  “Right.” She nods. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” she says, referring to work tonight.

  “Yeah. Thanks again, Sierra. For everything.” I lean over to give her a hug. She’s been a good friend. I leave the car. I won’t be seeing Sierra at work later. I know what I need to do.

  I head up to my apartment, contact the station, and tell them I’m leaving effective immediately. I should be giving notice, and this means they won’t be able to give me a good reference, but at this point in my life, I feel burned through and through. I thought Oli was a good guy, even if he had commitment issues. I thought he was being honest with me. I can’t believe he was still screwing around. He promised he would stop. I can’t even say that I feel let down, because it’s more than that. This is a betrayal. It’s hard for me to trust people because of my past, yet I found a way to believe in Oli. I thought we had a fighting chance, a future together. Now I just want to go home to the one man who truly never let me down: my daddy.

  I pack my things, order an Uber, and head straight for the airport. It’s been ten years since I left home. It’s time to go back, face my past, and find myself a place in Kansas, Missouri, because I’m more than done with Chicago.

  Thirty-Three

  Sloane

  “Dad, I’m fine. Really,” I answer from beneath the warm blankets of my childhood bed. He’s standing at the door to my old bedroom, his aged eyes creased at the corners. He’s worried. He knows why I haven’t been home in more than a decade, and he’s been supportive and understanding. Only he wants an explanation as to why I’ve decided to come home now. After all this time, he wants to know what has changed.

  My dad is a smart man. He understands the intricacies of the human mind and human relationships on a deep level. I respect him so much. I want to tell him why I’m here, but it will break his heart, and so I’ve locked myself in my room since I arrived back in Kansas three days ago. I’ve only ventured out of my room when I know he’s left the house. I know it isn’t fair to him and he’s worried. I just don’t have the right words. I’m hoping to hide the pregnancy for as long as possible, because I don’t want to be a disappointment to him. Mom was disappointment enough. He’s been through enough.

  “Dad, I’m here to try to make amends with my past,” I begin, because mentioning Parker’s name hurts too much still, after all these years. Even now that I’ve realized I’m in love with Oliver Russell, a man who will never love me back. Despite the fact that Oli doesn’t want me, my mind still differentiates between the love I had for Parker, which was juvenile yet oh-so real, and the love I have for Oli. After everything that’s happened, I know that I have to let go of the past both for my sake, but also for my unborn child. I can’t hang on to memories of what might have been anymore. That is why I decided that today, I will finally cleanse Parker Hayes from my mind and heart. Although I may never forget what he meant to me, I will force myself to move on.

  “Amends, huh?” Dad finally answers. “I want you to feel at peace, Sloane. I really do. I would love nothing more than for you to leave the past behind and move on with your future.”

  “Me too, Dad.” I smile sadly. A loan tear falls down my cheek and my throat feels choked up. I use my sheet to wipe the tears away.

  “Can I drive you?” Dad offers.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go on my own. This is something I have to do by myself.”

  Dad closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them again. “I understand. Keys are on the front mantel. I’m glad you’re here, sweetheart. If you want to talk to me after, I will be in my study for most of the day.”

  I blink tears away because I am not ready to shed them yet. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll come by the study later.”

  He nods and closes the door.

  An hour later, I’m driving. My nerves are frayed. I can’t believe I’m here and doing this, but if the last decade has taught me anything it’s that I need closure. I need to say goodbye.

  I pull up the long drive, and just seeing all the tombstones makes my heart feel like it’s being hacked up all over again. I pull off to the side of the road near his grave, since my father gave me directions on the location of his gravesite. I’m shaking from the inside out as I walk through the damp grass. The chill in the air feels like it’s going right through me, making me feel cold and empty. His name in large capital letters pulls my attention: PARKER HAYES, beloved son. My heart rips in two, and the tears begin to flow. I have no control. I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to. Seeing this, his tombstone, makes everything so final. That is the reason I didn’t attend his funeral and the reason I never returned home. There is a memory of Parker and me on almost every street corner of our neighborhood, in every park, at the movie theater, in the mall. Parker is everywhere.

  As I look at his tombstone, his vibrant blue eyes and warm smile stare bac
k at me in my head. Life isn’t fair. Things happen that we have no control over, even though we plan and plan our lives away.

  Parker and I loved planning—everything down to the way our children would look. A daughter with his blue eyes, a son with my green eyes. Everything was planned.

  I break into a fit of tears and fall to the ground, my knees landing on the cool grass, the moisture seeping through my jeans. My eyes are filled with so many unshed tears that I can barely see straight.

  I thought the darkness around Parker’s eyes came from late nights of homework. I thought when he frowned when no one was watching, it was because he thought of his dead mother. I didn’t know he was truly sad, truly depressed. How could I have known that the guy who was the life of the party had demons none of us could understand? If only I’d seen the signs. If only I had known then what I know today, I could have saved him. I wouldn’t have found him on his bathroom floor, wrists slit, bleeding out.

  “I’m mad at you.” I speak to his stone. “What you did wasn’t fair. You had no right to make that decision on your own.” I fall back into a seated position. “You left me alone. You know how much I hated to be alone, especially after Mom left. And fuck, I know I sound selfish, because I’m thinking of myself right now and what you meant to me. My love wasn’t enough to keep you alive. That thought guts me. That thought gutted me for so long. It’s probably why I haven’t been able to hold a relationship with a man past a third date.”

  I pause, and a sardonic laugh escapes my lips. I feel a little unhinged as I continue to speak as if Parker can hear every word. I look up to the grey sky and let out a heavy breath. “The crazy thing is that I learned about mental illness. I now understand things I didn’t understand back then. I understand that you weren’t well, not in your right mind, and I feel like I let you down.” The tears come down so hard I’m not sure that they will ever stop. I’m a snotty mess as I pour my soul to the boy I once loved. The boy who took his life too soon.