“Yeah, I know,” I said, my words coming out cockier than I meant. Actually, I didn’t mean to say that out loud at all. It just fell out. “You have to remember that I don’t remember that.”
“You don’t remember cheating on me?”
“No, I mean I didn’t cheat on you. Remember how I told you I watched you have sex with Tatiana?”
Paxton twirled his finger for me to continue when I paused. “Keep going?”
“Lane caught me. I think I was afraid he would tell you, or something. I did things with him and he paid me fifty bucks.”
“Wait, you were here for a month before Tatiana came here with Rowan.”
I nodded, assuring him of his memory. “Almost, a little less.”
“So? That’s when it started? Clear back then? Before we ever married?”
“No, idiot. That’s when it started and ended. That’s why I’m afraid Ophelia might be his.”
Paxton rolled his eyes in two quick circles, trying to keep up. “Why? I fucked you that whole month.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re a cheater, too. Anyway, you always pulled out. And then Tatiana showed up here before I had Phi. She was shocked that you had gotten me pregnant, and I thought Rowan wasn’t yours either. And then that doctor told me your sperm count was almost nonexistent, but then Mi said it only takes one, and then I got pregnant. So I thought, you know?” I had to take a deep breath after that run-on sentence. I just wanted to spit it out. All of it at once.
“You stupid, stupid f—f—fish.”
I looked up, sure fish was his second choice. His head shook from side to side, and for a quick second, I could have sworn, I saw a smirk. “Mi helped me with some DNA tests from Amazon. I planned on telling you as soon as I knew for sure.”
“You have no idea how much I want to stab you in the throat with this fork. How many times after that?”
“None, but when I went to Lane about helping me enjoy sex with you, I told him about Phi, and then a lot more stuff about us.”
“Yeah, I know. What else?”
“I don’t know. I guess we started talking. He knew Phi was his, and I—”
“Ophelia doesn’t fucking belong to that fucker.”
I shrugged both my shoulders, confessing the facts. “We’ll find out as soon as the tests come back.”
“You stupid fucking cunt. One, I had her tested just like I did when my first daughter was born. I mean, I was dealing with two sluts. I know for a fact that Ophelia belongs to me.”
I didn’t speak only because I couldn’t. My mind was too busy trying to comprehend all of this. Both girls?
“I can’t believe that slime bastard thought for one second she belonged to him. Is that why he left? Because you suddenly came home this person that nobody knew, and he got scared? Is that why he ran, Gabriella?”
It took two-point-seven seconds for the anger to move from my mind, to my fists. I even felt my muscles tensing, ready to strike. Paxton caught my wrist midair, but that didn’t stop me from giving him a tongue lashing. “You knew this whole time? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You caused way more drama than you needed to. Way more,” I said through a clenched jaw, spitting angry words right at him.
“Oh, no. No way,” he fired right back, a finger right at my nose. “You don’t get to do that. You’re the one that went behind my back to keep something as ridiculous as this from me. I mean, come on. This just keeps getting better and better. He wanted to help you get away from me because he felt the need to protect, Ophelia. Right, Gabriella?”
“How was I supposed to know? If I thought that before I remembered, why wouldn’t I now? All the signs were there.”
“Am I right? He set all that up? The passports, the job, the new life? And just like that, you were going to take my kids away? I would have fucking killed you.”
I took a step back, unsure whether or not I should trust him when he took a step toward me. “I didn’t love you then, Pax.”
Paxton shook his head from side to side, but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe at the whole fucked up mess, maybe at me for sneaking around behind his back. At least, he didn’t find out about Tatiana. I’d never hear the end of that one.
Paxton smiled at me, hands on his hips, and a quick stomp with one foot. Both his hands went into the air, and he smiled, right about the time I pondered his mental state. “Well, we got rid of Candace and Lane.”
My frown strengthened, trying to figure out whether or not he had just made a joke. “Excuse me?”
Yup. He was crazy.
“The perfect storm of two kinds of crazy. Baby, I don’t give a fuck how we got here. We’re here.”
“What?” I questioned again, trying my best to keep up.
His fingers laced with mine at the same time our lips met, mine stuck in a straight line.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, don’t you ever think you have to sneak around behind my back for anything. You fucking talk to me, not Mi.”
I felt the adrenaline slow in my veins, the beat in my heart calm, and my muscles relax into his arms. “I’m never talking to her again.”
Paxton lifted my chin with one finger and pinched my ass. “Yeah? How about you don’t talk to my ex-wives either.”
I grinned, puckering for his smiling lips. “You’re way better at being a detective than me. You don’t have more than one, do you?”
“Not yet, and you don’t need to be a detective. Let’s go charge these stupid stones with our munchkins, then I’ll take you upstairs and remind you why you’re never going to do anything behind my back again.”
Paxton pulled me by two fingers, and I gladly followed, listening to him mumble about the magic stones. Something about them being bad luck.
I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I knew at that exact moment that wherever it was, I would always be with Paxton. We were the perfect storm of two kinds of crazy, stupid fish who swam against the current for far too long. Who says a solid foundation has to start from scratch? Sometimes you just have to let go of rock bottom, catch the bricks being thrown at you, and build your own foundation. Solid is built on trust, not lies and deceit, and nobody’s going to build it for you. I learned that hard way.
I wish I could tell you the gender of this new little Pierce, but unfortunately, I don’t know. A gender party will reveal the sex over here on December the 25th. Mi is sworn to secrecy. Come join the fun, and win some cool prizes. Club Jettie. Don’t ask. I didn’t pick the place. (Paxton)
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1470427353266388/
The end, but keep reading to find out who will be the new neighbor.
A Cul-de-sac spinoff
Brantley Jandt
A heavy raindrop slid down the window, pulling my attention from the bright red submit button. As much as I tried to justify it in my mind as an omen, I couldn’t. It slid down the window because that’s what happened when it rained outside, not because I wasn’t supposed to upload my resume.
My finger hovered over the button that would no doubt, change my life forever. I’d never get this chance again. It was about to be over with the push of button.
Another sliding drip kept me from doing it, this one down a cold can of beer. I chugged half of it, squeezing the can in my hand, and stood from my chair. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I set my sights on Nashville. I only did that teaching degree thing for the scholarship. My ticket out of Hellville Michigan. I was never supposed to use it.
My fingers slid through my long hair and I groaned about that, too. No school district would hire guy with a ponytail. I would have to cut it off. All of it. Fuck this. I didn’t want to teach elementary kids. I didn’t even like them.
The skype call, taking over my computer screen helped me procrastinate a little longer. It was all her fault anyway.
“What?”
“Hey to you, too. I see you got it set up.”
I adjusted my screen, flipping my hair back when I saw myself. “Yeah, and it slowed
my computer down. I could barely even burn a CD.”
Kit rolled her eyes, uncaring of my problems. She only wanted to be a selfish cunt. “I want to be able to talk to her every day.”
“Perfect. Here’s a thought. Why don’t you keep being her mommy, and stay home with her where you belong, and I’ll keep being the daddy who pays for her.”
“You want child support from me while I’m in Kenya, Brantley? Is that what it will take to get you to grow up and be a Goddamn father?”
I lunged my empty beer can at the trash can, missing by a foot, but only because it banked off the wall. “She doesn’t even know who I am. I don’t want your fucking money. I want you to quit thinking you need to go save the world and save your daughter. This isn’t a good idea. I don’t know how to take care of two year olds.’ I’m a country music singer, for Christ’s sake.”
“You’re an Uber driver, and she’s not two. Why don’t you stop being selfish long enough to give my dreams a chance? It’s only one year, Brantley. You’ve had five years to do what you want. All I’m asking for is one. One year to do something as near and dear to my heart as playing on sidewalks is to you.”
I knew the sidewalk remark was a punch below the belt, but I didn’t comment on it. I was too busy thinking about what venom I could fire back with. “This is so unfair. I fucked you one time. One time, girl. That’s it. And now you get to come in and just change it all in the blink of an eye. I didn’t tell you to have that kid.”
“You know what, Brantley? Go fuck yourself. You keep living in Nashville, living your dream. I don’t want any part of you rubbing off on my daughter.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
I’m not sure which one of us slammed our laptop first, and I didn’t care. This was so fucked up. I mean, where did she get off even asking such a thing? I was around the kid one time. One time. She was cute, and I did love her. I loved her just fine from Nashville Tennessee where I made enough money to send her a check every month.
I opened my mini fridge to leftover Chinese from downstairs, and no beer, wondering how the hell I got there. Had that dumb cunt asked me to do this even a year before I would have never considered it. The fact that I couldn’t not consider it stayed with me every single second of the day. Guilt came with growing up. I hated it.
What if she left her somewhere unsafe? I would have never been able to live with myself. Who was I to keep her from doing something so noble?
A deep breath audibly escaped my lungs, filling my tiny little apartment with dread. As much as wanted to blame it all on Kit, I knew I couldn’t. She was right in so many ways, except the Uber driver. Well, maybe sometimes.
Maybe it was time to move on, dream about something else for a change. An eighteenth month old and a job. A real job where I could actually use my degree. Even though my gigs paid well, five years was a long time to dream big without ever seeing the pot of gold. Maybe it was time to refocus my dreams on something else.
I glanced around the small space I paid too much money for, wondering how much more I could get for fifteen hundred a month. Surely more than this. She would need her own room, and a yard to play in. I opened my laptop to the opened resume and hit submit, sending my credentials to fifty states. It didn’t much matter where home was for a teacher. There was no Teacher Hall of Fame of the world.
Kit sure as hell didn’t care. All she cared about was her twelve months in Kenya, taking care of other people’s kids. Not her own.
Rydel Brinkley
I locked my classroom door and waited for one of the third grade teachers from across the courtyard. “Can you believe it’s this time again? I feel like we just left,” I complained.
“Right? Have you heard any more about who your partner in crime is going to be?”
“No, but I sure as hell hope she’s not as old as Miss Wentworth. Is it bad that I drank wine when I heard she fell and broke a hip?”
“Yeah, that’s probably hell worthy.”
I laughed, uncaring. Hell wasn’t a place, it was Miss Wentworth, and I didn’t care. I would take anyone over her, any day. Anyone.
Don’t forget to join Club Jettie on Facebook for the gender reveal party, and for exclusives on the new neighbor. I wonder if this one will be normal.
Solid: 2 1/2 (Twin Duo Book 3) Page 10