Full Contact

by H. J. Bellus

  But he doesn’t speak. Instead, he stands from his chair and rounds the table. He passes me and goes straight to Justice. He holds his arms out wide open until she stands. I’m not the crying type, except when it comes to her and my family. When my dad takes Justice in his strong, understanding, and all-loving arms, I lose it.

  He whispers into her ear. She nods, and her tears match mine. When Dad pulls back, he wipes away his own tears and slaps me on the back.

  “Boy, I’m too damn young and good looking to be a grandpa.”

  “Wishful thinking, old man.” I rise and hug the hell out of him. I guess I didn’t know what to predict coming into this. My life has been all about the game and how far I could take myself. This is more than I could ever want out of life.

  Mom and Rowe rush Justice, nearly knocking her back onto the table. And for the Blake family, it’s tears all around.

  “I’m an aunt. Oh, my God, I’m an aunt. The asshole did it!” Rowe exclaims.

  Mom and Dad both scold her for her language and don’t bat an eye when she takes an extra piece of garlic toast at dinner.

  “Justice, did I ever tell you that I swear our boy Liam was born with a football under his arm?”

  “No. Tell me more.” Justice and I sat through this conversation a long time ago, yet she still urges my mom on.

  “It was his favorite toy. He was never obsessed with superheroes or Legos. He was born to play.”

  Dad gets in on the conversation. “And have you ever heard about a little princess who stole my heart the first time I met her? Hell, she even made me take off my jersey.”

  Dad glances over to Rowe, and she grins. “I hated football until Shrek came into my life.”

  We all get a good laugh out of that one.

  “More importantly, both of my kids have always been happy and healthy, and that’s all I wish for the two of you. However, another football player would be a bonus.”

  I sit back and watch my family interact. Mom and Rowe jump all over Dad on his comment about having another football player in the family. I don’t care what we have as long as our baby comes into this world healthy as can be.

  “I’m kidding.” He finally gives in, throwing both of his hands up in the air, sighs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. A sly grin spreads across his face. “How about if I speak the truth. Being called Grandpa will be the biggest accomplishment of my life. It sits alongside being called Dad, and it will outshine every single trophy or award on our mantle. You did good, son.”

  Lots of people take life for granted. Hell, I do every day. I’ll continue to do it. This moment here is being stored away.

  I watch with a blessed eye as Mom leans her head on Dad’s shoulder and hooks her pinky with Rowe’s. Justice leans into me, and I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be. Life is good.

  I cut the tension in the room, my hands going for the ultrasound wand. I still can’t believe they’re going to use this object shaped like a corn cob. I wave it around like it’s a lightsaber and then pretend to compare it to my own dick size. It does the job, easing the tension lines on Justice’s brow, and her giggles escape. I’ll for damn sure be making certain the doctor sterilizes or sleeves this torture device before using it.

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks. “Stop, it’s embarrassing enough to get in this damn gown.”

  “They are putting a damn wand up your love taco.” I use the term from one of the romance novels she was reading the other night.

  Justice gives me a sideways glare, adjusting herself on the table, the crinkle of the scratchy paper filling the room. “I knew it. You finished “I Shaved My Legs For This” without me, didn’t you?”

  “You were sound asleep.” I raise my hands in the air in surrender. “The light was blinding me.”

  “Hopeless,” she mutters, shaking her head. We’ve found little hobbies to entertain ourselves in the slices of time when we have nothing to do besides worry. There’ve been more pink potted plants and lingerie showing up in the matter of a week, and her dad has stopped her from seeing any of them. It seems the asshole is stepping up their game. They keep this shit up, and I’ll be glad if her dad backs off his promise and shoots them in the fucking head.

  So yeah, I finished the damn book.

  Jesus, if my teammates ever found out, I’d be tossed from the NFL in a blink of an eye, no matter how I rose from an injury.

  Justice opens her mouth to give me her wrath, but I’m saved by the swinging door as the doctor walks in. I was ready for the comeback, blowing the end of the storyline. I’ll save that tidbit for tonight when she crawls into bed with her e-reader.

  “Justice, how are you?” The doctor extends his hand all the while looking at me. “This is?”

  “Liam, the father,” she replies.

  “Nice to meet you.” I stand and shake his hand. “I’m Doctor Asten.”

  Sweat breaks out on my neck. I’m not comfortable with another man sticking a wand up my woman. However, Dr. Asten is nothing but professional as he goes about his business and explains the procedure in detail to us. When the room fills with static noise accompanied by a steady whoosh, I crumble.

  “That would be the baby’s heartbeat,” he says methodically. The man does this every day, hears them all the time. To me, it’s as if my heart syncs in tune with my child’s.

  It’s only the squeeze from Justice’s hand that keeps my heart from pounding out of my chest.

  “Strong and steady.” Dr. Asten adjusts the wand, making the picture clearer. “All of the measurements seem to coincide with a May fourth due date.”

  This moment right here, I can’t even begin to explain it. Doesn’t even compare to a game-winning touchdown, records broken in record books, or leading my team right down the turf. Not a damn thing can or will come close to hearing that heartbeat and finding out that May will be here before we know it.

  21

  Justice

  I block out the noise in the restaurant. The past two weeks have gone by in a blur. The hustle and bustle of the season is in full swing.

  “Come on, let me get you home,” Liam’s sexy voice fills the air.

  I grab my purse and hook it over my shoulder, place my hand in his as he helps me out of my seat. If I hadn’t found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago, I would definitely know now. I can’t keep a thing down. The aroma of everyone’s food tonight made me sick, yet I managed to eat a few bites here and there. I pray to God it stays down.

  “You’ll be okay. Trust me,” Alina reassures me as she kisses my cheek. She’s been my saving grace this past week. While she should have been out here visiting, she’s been helping me adjust my mind to being pregnant. She’s a pediatrician, or at least she was up until about five years ago when she decided to retire.

  “I know. Thanks for everything. I’ll see you in a week or so at the game.” Liam and I watch her, Roan, Mom, and Dad get into their vehicle and pull away.

  I glance down Main Street and think over the way I’ve acted the last couple of weeks and how my emotions have been rapidly growing out of control since I found out I was pregnant.

  I’ve been a complete basket case, and it isn’t Liam’s over-possessive nature, both of our more than usual sex drives, or the fact I feel as if something terrible is about to go down. My gifts have stopped. There have been phone calls and text messages coming across both of our phones late at night, but Liam takes over when those happen and reports to Dad. Life is as normal as can be under these circumstances, and yet I can’t shake this feeling. It’s eating me up inside.

  “You look tired.”

  I am, I want to say. If I do, he’ll be lifting me up and carrying me to the car. “I’ll be okay.”

  I wasn’t kidding when I mentioned him mothering the hell out of me. It’s his demeanor; and I get it, I would do the same if he spent half of his morning puking and dry heaving over the toilet, too. My heart starts to flutter wildly. I'm a bitch. A royal one at that. And still, I can’t help
the thoughts circling like evil vultures in my head.

  Liam is more attentive than I deserve. He speaks to the baby, he busts his ass on the field every day, and the grit of the wear and tear he puts on his body shows the second he walks through the door at my place. Still, he demands I let him do everything for me. He apologizes when I ask him to back off. He’s wonderful, and for the life of me, I can’t get rid of the heavy weight that keeps ladling more and more out of me every day, wondering if I will ever get back to my old self again.

  It’s normal to be overwhelmed, but this is too much for me at once, and it’s overpowering me in a way I can’t stop.

  It’s bye week for the team, and I would have thought he’d want to jump on a plane and get out of town, even if only for a day or two. A weekend trip back home to my favorite shoe store would have been nice. It seems this big man planned other things for his week off. He insisted on getting to know the town where we are going to raise our child.

  “I overdid it with you today, didn’t I?” he asks.

  “Not really. It’s me. I’m exhausted, is all. Part of being pregnant,” I half lie. I could have told him no before we ventured to the Green Belt, strolling along the Boise River. “The fresh air feels great, though, which home are we going to? This back and forth is kind of ridiculous, don’t you think?”

  For the first time in days, I feel a little pick-me-up. I have every intention of moving in with him. All I’m going to bring is my clothes and personal things. Everything else can stay. We can use my house for the family when they come out to visit. Which knowing mine will be weekly once the baby is born.

  “Back and forth, my ass. I’ve been staying at your house for the past couple of weeks. I’m starting to forget what mine looks like.” He slings his arm around my shoulder and starts walking us toward his Rover. It’s a nice break to not have eyes staring at us or wondering how many cell phone pictures were snapped.

  “I think your house would be the perfect place to raise our baby.” I stop and skim my fingertips up his team hoodie. They move on their own. Like every other part of me, they want to touch him, to be consumed by him, and to taste his skin.

  “No argument today. You really must be tired.” He places his hands on my stomach.

  “I’m not arguing. I’m pregnant.” I lift a brow. He’s right. “I’m sorry, I’ve been horrible to be around lately.”

  “You have, but it doesn’t make me love you less. It makes me love you more. Your body is taking care of another person. You’re adjusting. Fuck, we both are. We’ll get through this like everything else.”

  My eyes flutter shut when he snakes his arm around me and pulls me close.

  I hardly have a moment to react before he presses his tongue to the seam of my lips and strokes it slowly with mine. It feels incredible. In this heartwarming instant, his touch, his mouth steals the anxiety right out of me.

  “Everything is going to be alright. I promise. This is all new to you. It wasn’t planned. Give yourself time to adjust. I got you.”

  And he does, or at least he does until we take a few steps further and out of nowhere I’m slammed from behind and knocked to my hands and knees.

  “What the fuck?” Liam hollers, his strong arms going around my waist.

  I panic. My heart is pounding so hard I swear the people gathering around can hear it.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. I tripped.” A man gets right up in my face. The scent of alcohol wafting from him makes me ill.

  “Don’t touch her,” Liam snarls, shoving the man in the back and ushering me behind him. He tilts his head to the side, glancing back at me while keeping one eye on the stranger. “Are you alright?”

  Liam keeps me clutched to his back. My vision begins to blur, and my stomach starts to churn. I nod, or at least I think I do.

  “I said I was sorry,” the guy slurs.

  “Right, well, take your sorry ass out of here and call a fucking cab. She’s pregnant, you dumb fuck,” Liam growls. I’ve heard the man pissed before, seen him at the height of his rage, yet none of it compares to how close he is to unhinging right now.

  Liam’s voice rings in my ears. I can’t breathe.

  A female voice hones in above the noise in my head. “Pregnant. Well, this is the best news Idaho has had in a long time. Do you care to elaborate? Tell us when she’s due? Are you staying with the Diamonds after the baby is born?” Oh God. Is she a reporter? A Diamonds fan? This can’t be happening. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

  “That’s none of your fucking business, lady.”

  My stomach cramps and a cluster of sparks set off inside of me. “Liam, please…”

  I sag into his back, my legs giving out, and I tumble toward the sidewalk, clutching my stomach, but I never hit the unforgiving surface. Liam has me pulled up into his chest. My body is quivering, and my stomach is cramping. It’s relentless.

  “Justice.” I hear the alarm in his voice.

  I can’t answer. Words are jumbled up in my head. Our baby is the only thing I can think of. I can’t breathe.

  The tension in my face and limbs turns numb, and my mind whisks away. I can feel my breathing becoming more rapid, shallower. It’s in this moment that my own personal hurricane strikes. I need something to calm me down. A soothing word, a hand, anything to stop my primal urge to flee my body from my mind. What if that man was my stalker? What if he hurt me and something happened to our baby? What if?

  Strong arms cocoon me in before I give in to my mind and shut down.

  Pain shoots across my forehead, so powerful it has my head reeling back against something soft. I hold my breath, willing it to go away. It hurts to pinch my eyes shut as I breathe in and out slowly until it declines in its fierceness.

  “My baby,” I cry. My lungs burn with each inhale I try to take. What the hell is happening to me?

  “Justice, you're fine. Our baby is fine. We’re at the hospital. You had a panic attack.”

  Liam. I hear the strangled fear in his voice.

  “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes. It's dark, and my head won’t stop pounding. When I go to sit up, familiar hands gently push me down.

  “Stop. Listen to me for once. You are not getting out of bed. Rest. I promise you are both alright.

  Oh, my God. I’ve lost my mind. Everything reels inside of my skull.

  I feel the warmth of someone’s hand on my forehead. My mom’s. My body begins to shudder. The failing attempt to stifle my sobs does no good. The tears fall down my face to my quivering lips.

  “I’m scared. I don’t know what happened.”

  “Honey, let it out if you need to. You’ll feel so much better. What happened to you was an accident. Dad checked everything out. You were in an area that’s well populated.” Mom climbs into the bed next to me, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m not going to lie to you here. You are going to be spooked until we find the person who is scaring you.”

  Her voice is meant to soothe me, but it doesn’t.

  I know I’ve lost it when all I can think about is this person dying, then, and only then, will I feel safe.

  22

  Liam

  Boarding the airplane to travel across the country has my nerves shredded. We lost to Baltimore in overtime at home last week. It was our first loss of the season. Now we’re gearing up for our first Monday night football game. Traveling to Philadelphia on a Sunday afternoon.

  Our moms have stepped up to the plate to watch over Justice. Thank God for that, or I’d be drowning in a swamp full of guilt by now.

  Between my family and hers, we’ve moved all her things into my house, settled in, and now that she’s flying with the team, I’ve been able to sleep a hell of a lot better.

  There have been no more full-blown panic attacks in the past few weeks either. That doesn’t mean I don’t glimpse slivers of anxiety creeping up her spine. I do my best to help her get through it. As the days go by, our schedules become cohesive, making life easier for everyone. And with Alex living here n
ow, it’s making things a hell of a lot easier for her at work.

  Justice still throws up like clockwork every single morning. At first, we tried saltines and ginger ale, but none of it worked. She’s come to the terms that upchucking was the way she’d start her day. It hits her throughout the day as well, and if I didn’t know the outcome was going to be the best accomplishment we’ve done together, I’d run for the goddamn mountains. The woman is a strong one, but she is over throwing up.

  She rested a few days when she first came home from the hospital; then she set up an office in the house, works a few days from there and a few at the stadium.

  “Here, baby.” I take her bag and stow it under the seat in front of us. Slide out of the way and wait for her to take her seat.

  “Thank you.” She plops down, buckles up, and is out by the time the wheels are off the ground.

  Our circumstance is not the typical one by any stretch of the imagination.

  I watch her sleep for a couple of minutes. She is far from the pain in the ass she thinks she is. She’s having a tough time of it, is all. Add the stress of not feeling safe and the insanity of the press once word hit the streets of Boise about her being pregnant, and it would drive anyone to panic.

  It would be our damn luck an employee of the local news station would hear me talking about her pregnancy on the Green Belt that day. The best part of it is, our PR team at the Idaho Diamonds handled it with ease and professionalism. Pictures from our college days were shared about a second-chance love story. It seems the public are huge fans of second chances, just like the ones Justice reads.

  We are coined as the modern-day JFK and Jackie O. I’ve noticed it’s boosted Justice’s confidence and quelled her anxiety. Idaho loves her, and she loves Idaho.

  Her light snores make me smile as I put on my Bluetooth Beats and lift the armrest separating us. I extend my arm over her shoulder, tugging her to me. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I kiss the top of her head. I’m a king with everything he needs.