by Harper Sloan
“Clear something up for me, Chelcie. While I’ve been thinking we’ve been starting something, have I been some second-place consolation prize for my brother? Because, let me tell you, I’ve been there, done that, and got the fucking T-shirt. That isn’t something I ever want to experience again.”
I frown, trying to make sense of his exclamation. He reaches up and lightly caresses the wrinkle between my brow before he realizes what he’s doing and drops his hand, his face looking confused and . . . pained.
“I didn’t then nor do I now have feelings like that for your brother. I will always respect and admire his strength and bravery, but as far as any romantic feelings, no. The way I feel about you, that’s all for you.”
“Then please explain to me how you could not regret sleeping with him?”
Here it goes. The moment that could very well rip any chance at a relationship between Asher and me apart—or the one that solidifies the bond we’ve felt tugging us together since day one.
“Almost a month after that one night . . . maybe closer to a month and a half—I can’t remember. It took me a while to even admit it to myself. To believe that my selfish need to feel alive had succeeded in proving that. In driving it home in one tiny plus sign.”
“I’m not following you here, Chelcie.”
“I’m pregnant, Asher. I’m pregnant with Coop’s baby. He didn’t know because he . . . Well, he didn’t know because of everything that happened, and before I could tell him, it was too late.”
“What?”
I keep looking into his stunning blue eyes, which are now a beautiful light-navy color, showing me with crystal-clear clarity just how much pain my admission is bringing him.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I wanted to tell you and I had every intention in telling you, but there never seemed to be a good time.” Even to my own ears, it sounds like shit. I should have told him the second I met him.
“You fucking think?” he yells.
He moves, standing up from the chair with me still locked in his arms, and sets me back down before pacing away from me. Getting as far from me as he can.
“You’ve . . . Jesus Christ! You’re pregnant with Coop’s baby? No good time,” he mutters, continuing his pacing. “How could you keep this from me, Chelcie? Were you ever really going to tell me?” he shouts.
“Of course I was!” I defend.
“Yeah? When? When I fell for the little games you’ve been playing with my mind? When you went into labor? Shit, how were you going to hide a belly? Because let me tell you, I never would have guessed you’re pregnant now!”
I know he’s hurt. He’s hurt and I did this to him, to us. I stand as straight as I can, trying my best to keep it together and let him have this. Let him get it out. I can only hope that, when he’s done, he can find it in his heart to forgive me.
I just haven’t decided if I deserve his forgiveness.
“I can’t even look at you right now without my anger getting the best of me. This isn’t done, but right now, I need to get the fuck away from you before I say something I’m going to regret.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak with the tears burning my nose and the lump climbing back up my throat. I’m seconds away from completely falling apart.
He looks at me for a few more seconds before turning on his heels and storming through the front door. I hear it slam, and it’s all I need for my body to give the emotions permission to burst forth.
I crumble to the ground and cry. I cry for everything I’ve stupidly done. I cry for Coop, our baby, Asher, and every single unknown second of my future.
I cry until I have nothing left. It’s only then that I notice the sun that was bright in the sky is now gone and my apartment is pitch black. I don’t even stop to turn on the lights as I make my way down the hall, stripping down to my bra and panties on the way and curling beneath the thick blankets on my bed. I wish that the smooth fabric were the arms I so desperately need to be holding me tight.
CHAPTER 15
Asher
“You senseless little fuck,” the voice slurs. “Where is your stupid fucking brother?” it asks again.
I don’t want to open my eyes. I know there is no reasoning with her when she gets like this. I keep praying one day that she just won’t come home. That she will crash her car into a tree, pick up the wrong man for an easy lay, and end up dead like other stupid chicks on the TV. That she might overdose on one of the millions of pills she drops down her throat.
Anything but deal with her when she’s like this. I can’t just leave because Coop needs to finish high school, and with just two years to go before his graduation, I’ll suffer through my egg donor’s shit if it means we can graduate and leave—never looking back.
We’ve had it planned since the day I turned sixteen. We would wait until he finishes high school and then get the hell out of the small town in Texas we’ve grown up in. Get the hell out and make a life for ourselves that we can be proud of.
We’re joining the Marines.
And we’re going to be free of this vile bitch.
Coop’s still small for his age. I started growing and never stopped until I towered over my mother, well over six feet. Coop’s body, having always lacked the right nutrition to help him grow, seems to be taking its time. I could care less if my brother stays scrawny for the rest of his life. Doesn’t matter to me. The one thing that has changed is his timid nature. He’s finally starting to come into his own. And the chicks around town don’t care if he’s not the tallest, bulkiest, or most popular. Coop started channeling his hurt and pain into humor, and the chicks love it.
“Well! Where is that piece of shit?”
Finally having had enough of her shrieking, I peel my eyes open and take her in. I’m sure she was attractive when she was younger. Her eyes, which might have been bright and vibrant blue, are now dull and dirty. Like bathwater after you’re done bathing. Her skin might have been smooth and youthful at one point, but now it has a disgusting gray tint to it. Her arms, stretched out at her sides, show the clearly visible track lines. Her body is nothing but a tiny mass of skin and bones.
Worthless.
Disgusting.
The reason I’ve believed for as long as I can remember that women will do nothing but hurt you.
I fucking hate her.
“You gonna answer me, you stupid shit? I knew you were a dumb-fuck. Knew it before you were even born. Your brother is just as dumb as you. Bet that’s why your piece-of-shit father ran off. Couldn’t stand to face that he couldn’t make real men.”
I clench my fist, wishing—not for the first time—that I believed in hitting women. Regardless of how much I hate her, I still won’t raise my fist to her.
“Should have terminated you two bastards when I had the chance,” she grumbles under her breath.
“I hate you!”
I turn my head sharply to the left when I hear Coop’s voice cracking with puberty, shaking with vehemence.
“I hate you so much!” he repeats.
I should stop him. Tell him to go back to bed and deal with the beating I’m sure will follow this drunken rage of hers.
“Well, isn’t that sweet, bastard boy? I hate you right fucking back!”
She starts to move. Actually, she starts to tip forward in what I assume is a move to get to Coop, but I step in her path. I refuse to let her take this shit out on him. My body is bigger. I can take it.
“Move, Ash. I need her to know I mean it.” He sounds different. Not like he normally does when he hides during her rages.
“You sure?” I ask, knowing that, even if I let him have this, I can still be here to make sure she doesn’t lay one of her repulsive fingers on him.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, but I’m right here.”
“Would you two fucking retards stop whispering?! I’m right in front of you. If you’re finally going to let those little boy balls drop and grow a pair, then by all means, let me ha
ve it,” she fumes.
Coop steps up to stand next to me. He comes up to my shoulders, but right now, in this moment, I feel like he’s ten feet tall. I couldn’t be more proud of him. For standing up for himself and for standing up to this bitch of a mother we’re stuck with.
“I’ve hated you for so many years. You’re a terrible person and an even worse mom. I wish you would just die! And I will always remember what happens when you try to love a girl, because I loved you once. Even when you wouldn’t feed us and would beat us. Wouldn’t bathe us or buy us clothes that fit. Even when you would lock us in that closet just because we dared to be alive. I will never let a woman get close to me because I know she would probably end up like you. And I know I will never, ever have any kids because, with my luck, something of you would be in them. I. Hate. You.” His breathing is fast, too fast, and I know he’s close to freaking out because never has he ever talked back to her. And if I’m honest, that was the most I have ever heard him say to our mother in almost ten years.
She looks confused. Maybe she’s confused because she didn’t know he could talk, but she just stands there for the longest time. Long enough for Coop to calm down. I look over and make sure he’s okay, but before I can make eye contact, I hear her cackle. She starts laughing so hard that she’s bent over, holding her stomach.
“Oh, you stupid little shit. Mark my words, Zachariah Cooper. One of these days, you’re gonna knock a bitch up just like your father did to me. That kid is going to be a little shit just like you, and maybe if you’re lucky, she’ll kill that bastard before it’s ever born. Oh yes, you stupid boy, it will happen because there’s too much of your stupid daddy in you to keep that shit in your pants. Not only that, but I hope you get some stupid fuck out of it . . . Serves you right for poisoning my life for so long.”
And with that, she stumbles out of the house and into her car and squeals her tires on her way out of the driveway.
It takes me longer to calm down than ever before. My deep loathing for that woman has grown even stronger.
“She’s wrong, Ash. If I ever have a baby, even an accident like we are, I’ll make sure that baby doesn’t have a life like ours.”
“Yeah, Coop. I bet you’re right.”
That night, we both sleep facing each other, his hand firmly placed in mine, our foreheads resting together, and I pray that he’s right. That if we ever do have kids, they’re nothing like HER and they know what love feels like.
If that’s even possible.
CHAPTER 16
Chelcie
The first thing I notice when I start to wake up is how warm I am. I’ve always been warm natured, which is why I sleep in as little as possible. I try to wake my mind up enough to take stock in my body. My heavy breasts feel constricted from evidently falling asleep with my bra. At least I remembered to take my socks off; hot feet at night are the worst.
The thought of my feet, or more specifically my toes, is what brings it all back. Phil, his creepy toe fetish, Asher, running, Asher, and the baby. It all slams into my mind so powerfully that I’m left shaking and crying again.
Damn hormones. Even though I’m legitimately upset, I don’t think I would be this much of a mess if I weren’t a walking, talking basket case of hormone overload.
The feeling of something tightening against my stomach makes me calm down long enough to make sure the baby is okay. I reach down and scream when I feel warm skin, coarse hair and an arm that does not belong to me.
What the hell?
I start panicking, thinking about how I can get out of here safely. How did someone get in? Oh my God! What if it’s Phil? Did he already suck my toes while I was sleeping? I’m going to die and Phil is going to cut off my toes!
“Calm down, Sunshine. I can hear you thinking over here.”
When I hear Asher’s deep mumble and feel his words vibrate against my back, I scream again and then naturally start crying all over again.
Basket. Case.
He tightens his grip, his huge hand palming my stomach in such a way that it renders me speechless. His fingers almost span my entire stomach. They twitch and caress—explore the bump I’ve been falling in love with more and more each day.
I calm myself down, my breathing still thick, but the feel of him—the safety of being in his arms—gives me the needed strength to pull my crybaby act together.
“How did you get in?” I question. The last thing I remember, after pulling myself off the floor, was going straight to bed. I must have been exhausted to not feel or hear him climb in behind me.
“Hmm,” he hums against my neck. His nose running along the sensitive skin causes goose bumps to break out against my flesh.
“Ash,” I whine desperately. My body—my very horny body—has been in hibernation mode for so long that just the feeling of his breathing against my neck and his hand holding my stomach makes me feel like I could come on command.
“The door was unlocked, which was a gross oversight on my end, but I was lost in my own shit. When I got my head together, I came back to make sure you were okay and found the door open . . .” he trails off, leaving us both lying there, wondering what’s next.
“I’m sorry, Ash.” I sigh into the silence, breaking the fragile stillness around us.
He doesn’t say anything for a few beats, leaving me teetering on the edge of fear that I’ve ruined what trust we had in each other. “I know you are, Sunshine. I know. It doesn’t make it easy, and I’m sorry I blew up on you.”
“You were right in your anger. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but Ash . . . you were in such a bad way for a while after Coop and I . . . Even though it doesn’t make what I did okay, I was scared to tell you. Afraid you would think the worst of me. It makes none of it okay, but that’s where I was coming from.”
“You were right,” he utters, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t have heard you even if you were standing in front of me with a blow horn. I’ve been asking myself for months why . . . Why him? What was the point? Why take him from this world? He has always been the better soul out of the two of us, and knowing that he died without me there to protect him—yeah, I wouldn’t have heard you.”
“How can you think that? The better soul? You really believe that, don’t you?” I turn in his arms, reaching up to cup his cheeks in my hands. “I’ll agree with you that Coop was an incredible man. He was there for me when I needed someone to help me feel strong again. He was brave, selfless, and oh so loved. But Ash . . . do you not see that you are just as incredible? I see you, YOU, Ash. I see the man who has been so lost, but fighting with every breath, he has to survive. I don’t know a lot about your past, but I know enough to know that you’re a fighter. You and Coop, you might as well have been built from the same mold because the same fearlessness that he possessed each and every day was obviously learned from his big brother.”
He looks at me, his heart-stopping eyes fighting the emotion that is raging within, so noticeably stuck in the grief that consumes him.
“We didn’t have a good childhood. There is a lot of darkness there. A lot of pain. It’s taken me a long time to be able to push all of that past under the rug. I can’t explain my issues any other way but to tell you about how we grew up and why hearing that Coop left behind a piece of himself affected me the way it did.”
He takes a deep breath and composes his thoughts; I can practically see the wheels turning. I rub my thumbs along his jaw and wait.
“Our mother raised us. Our dad ran out as quickly as he could, and honestly, I don’t blame him. She was, by definition, a monster. We didn’t have food half the time. The power and water were cut off more than they were ever connected. Clothing was always hand-me-downs two sizes too small. From the earliest that I can remember, I was raising Coop. He’s been more than a brother to me for my whole life, and losing him cut me deep—still cuts me deep. I can’t tell you how many times I stepped in to make sure I was his shield, his protection, against life. Never in m
y wildest dreams did I imagine I would lose him having not been able to protect him.”
I so desperately want to cut in, to yell and scream that he isn’t right. It isn’t his fault that Coop died. He didn’t pull the trigger.
“He never wanted kids. Ever. But I know, if he were still here, he would love this baby like no other. He’s always had the ability to see the positive in everything. So I guess my point is that, even though he never wanted children, he would have been there. He would have been the best damn father, Chelcie, and I know I can’t replace him—no one can replace him . . .” he trails off, clearing his throat a few times before he looks up. The pain in his eyes makes me flinch. “I know we’ve been dancing around this attraction between us, this chemistry—hell, I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I won’t lie to you, Sunshine. I want to be a part of this baby’s life. I want to be able to show him or her the love that Coop would want. But I don’t want you to think that I’m saying that just because of what is between us. As far as I’m concerned, your carrying Coop’s baby is a blessing I could never even begin to repay you for, but being in your life—making you mine—would be the icing on the cake. I’ll love this baby regardless of whether you want me in your life or not, but God, baby, please let me be the man you both deserve.”
I was crying softly before, broken for the little boys who were so lost, but now I’m full-out sobbing—gasping for air, choking on my spit, and blubbering out my response. I know he doesn’t understand my words. Even to my own ears, they’re nothing but gibberish. I wipe at my face, wishing I weren’t making such a mess of this.
“Hold on,” I weep, untangling myself from his arms and the sheets, running to the bathroom to clean myself up.
His arms close around me while I’m bent over the sink, washing my face. His lips climb up my exposed back, kissing each bump of my spine. His lips blaze a trail of fire until he reaches the base of my neck, stopping to breathe me in. His strong arms wrap protectively around my body. I straighten and meet his eyes in the mirror. My head comes to his collarbone, his striking, blue eyes gazing into my brown ones—begging me silently to let him in. I break our connection and trace the line of his arms to where they are lying against my stomach, his tan hands standing out against my fair skin. He cradles my bump—my child—within his strong hold. He holds me within his strong arms. And it’s painfully clear to me that if I don’t act on this, don’t let him and his strength in, I will live each day regretting it.