by Amo Jones
I blurt off my—well, Nate’s address and the taxi pulls away. My phone starts in my hands again and I see Pidge flash across the screen.
I answer instantly, completely forgetting that I left him behind. “I’m so sorry, Pidge, I just can’t be there right now.”
“It’s okay, I totally get it. I’m heading home now, I think Ash is angry with me for being out for so long and Nate rushed out straight after you. The dude has a major chip on his shoulder.”
Not sure I like this girl already, but I keep my very drunk thoughts to myself. “Well, I will eat that chip as a snack.” He laughs. I continue around a bite of pizza. “Thanks for coming. Don’t be a stranger and come see Micaela when she’s awake.”
“Oh, I plan to. Hey, Tillie?”
Tillie, not Tip. “Yeah?”
“Don’t forgive him. Don’t take him back. Ever.”
I sigh, massaging my temples and somewhat confused as to why he feels so passionately about Nate. “Sure, Pidge. Sure thing.” I hang up, a little miffed at Ridge’s comment. It was always Tip and Pidge. Our names swapped around just for us to use, but now I’m angry at him. I know Nate is fucked in the head, deranged, a smart ass, hot-headed, and a little possessive at times, but I—I stop my thoughts. I will not go there right now. Pidge is right, not that I’d ever have to make that decision, but he’s right. I could never take him back.
Tillie
After paying for the cab, I take out another slice of pizza, moaning around each bite. Somehow, I manage to balance the box with one hand and my heels and clutch in the other. I’m walking to the side of the main house toward the pool house when my phone starts vibrating again.
“Fuck off,” I mumble, without looking at it.
I’m looking down at my slice while climbing the steps when I freeze.
Nate is sitting in front of my door with no shirt on and blood on his knuckles. He’s got one leg perched up with his arm hanging off it and the other resting beside his leg with his phone in his hand.
He glares at me, and God his eyes are the kind you could never erase from your brain. They penetrate every thought process and take every logical side of you and replace it with everything that is him.
“What are you doing here, Nate, and what happened to your knuckles?”
“This is my house, Tillie, and the knuckles are nothing compared to Spyder’s face.”
“What did you do?” I swallow my thick bite whole. Incoming heartburn in 3-1—no. 3-2-1.
He glares at me. “How the fuck do you do it, Tillie? How the fuck is it you that conjures all so—” He stops, shakes his head and bites his lip. Drunk or not, that lip bite was sexy.
I ignore him, and the sexy lip bite, taking a seat on the cool step. “I’m tired, so if you’ve come for round—whatever we’re up to—can it wait until tomorrow?” I keep chewing my pizza, throwing my shoes onto the ground.
He doesn’t say anything, so I look up at him again. He’s still watching me, his head tilted back against the door, his face blank. I hate that I get this part of Nate and everyone else—Madison and Tate included—get the fun side. “Why’d you run?”
I suck the sauce off my finger and his eyes narrow on it. I stop instantly. “I told you, Nate, I didn’t have a choice.”
“But you did. You knew I would have—” He stops himself, running his hand through his hair until it’s ruffled and standing all over the place. “Fuck, you know what?” He stands up, throwing his shirt on the ground and putting his phone in his pocket. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Do what the fuck you want, Tillie. You’re going to anyway.” He goes to walk past me and I’m so fucking confused that my hand flies out to his arm.
He stills as goosebumps travel over my flesh from the connection, his head leaning to look down at my hand. I ignore the pang of electricity that zips through from him to me, I’m used to it now. This is a Nate thing. He probably has it with other people too.
He laughs, but it’s not a friendly laugh. It’s a sarcastic chuckle that tears at my chest with its sharp claws. He turns full-on to face me and suddenly, I shrink in my spot at his mere size and proximity. He steps forward, and I step back, pizza in hand. “You come back into my life with my daughter, and then run with her, and then come back without her because of your crazy sister, so I get her back, and now, now, you have the audacity to fucking touch me like you own me?” he yells, and something snaps inside of me.
My back hits the stair rail and now I’m trapped. I narrow my eyes. Fight or flight, and I will always fight. “I didn’t have a fucking choice, Nate! Have you forgotten who my mother is? Have you forgotten everything that happens in this world?” My hands are flinging everywhere, and I drop my pizza in the process. That only irks me even more.
His hand comes to my face, his shoulders slightly pulling back and his legs separating. I notice the stance, I see the shift of his eyes. He’s mad. He brings his mouth down to mine, but not enough for our lips to touch, just enough to be able to feel his breath tickle over my flesh.
“You don’t get to come back into my life and fuck with my head again, baby.” He squeezes harder, so much so that my lips pop. I clench my jaw tight, my eyes searching his in defiance.
“You left. You don’t get to run circles around and around in my head. I’ll trip you the fuck over and watch you fall on your face.”
“Why do you hate me!” I yell, ignoring the pang in my chest from his verbal stab. My throat clogs with unshed emotion and I have to physically stop myself from crying. God this night has been the worst girl’s night in the history of girl’s nights.
He narrows his eyes, something flashes over them momentarily, and just when I think maybe I had struck a nerve, it’s gone and a snarl curls in the corner of his mouth.
“Because you’re a fucking trailer park slut. You don’t belong in this world.” Then he pushes me forward. “Leave, Tillie. You aren’t welcome here and you don’t fit into this world. Leave my fucking daughter here, though, and if you come for her, I’ll take you to court, and who do you think has the most money to splurge on a lawyer? Oh, that’s right—me, and even if I didn’t, who has most of this damn city in their pocket, oh, that’s right—us,” he hisses, his eyes piercing mine. He gives me one more up and down stare before he turns his back on me and makes his way across to the main house.
I drop to my knees and exhale the pent-up breath I’ve been holding. Strength is a muscle. You exercise it enough, you become a big motherfucker.
But I am still human, and a girl, so pain rips through my flesh, cutting me open and exposing all of my impurities and insecurities. He’s never been so cruel to me—ever. Yeah, he’s Nate Riverside, the school playboy, but he has never been cruel. I feel like my world has stopped spinning, gravity threatening to release.
Picking up the pizza box and my shoes, I make my way into the pool house, leaving Nate’s stupid shirt on the porch.
I flop onto the bed, dropping the pizza box on the coffee table and close my eyes. So. Fucking. Drunk.
The next morning, I wake at seven with a pounding headache. Slipping in and out of the shower quickly, I throw on some skinny jeans that I bought yesterday and a slightly loose shirt. As soon as I’m inside the main house, I can hear Micaela and I quickly round the corner that leads from the sitting room into the kitchen, but my smile falls when Nate has her on the dining table.
His eyes come to mine, but he looks right through me before going back to Micaela.
“Oh, morning, Tillie!” Elena says, walking into the kitchen with a coffee mug between her palms. It feels awkward, and the words Nate said to me are ringing in the back of my head.
“Morning. Thank you for watching her last night.” But it won’t be happening again.
“Oh.” She brushes my comment away. “Don’t even mention it. We had lots of fun. How was your night?”
I pause, swallow and then shuffle uncomfortably. “It was, fun,” I lie, because I don’t have the energy to get into anything right now.
>
Nate is still ignoring me when Elena tells me to again, help myself to the kitchen. I don’t like it, so I shake my head. I’ll have to go shopping today after looking for a job. This blows.
I make my way into the dining room, taking the seat far away from Nate.
He licks his lips and stands, handing her to me. I ignore the ache that sets over me when his arm brushes against mine as he lays her in my arms.
“I won’t be back tonight. Text me if you need me.” Then he looks up to his mom. “Did you write up the contract?”
What? I look between both of them, confused. Elena’s pained face flinches. “Not yet, and you’re not leaving yet. Sit down, we all need to talk.”
Nate shakes his head. “Nah, fuck that. You know where I stand.”
“Nathanial! Sit!” His mother points back to his chair. Shit.
God, I’m so not ready for this. I can’t leave because I couldn’t take Micaela with me. He’d have me arrested for kidnapping if I do, so again, fuck my life.
Nate glares at me, dropping down to his chair. “Mom, I got shit to do today and tonight. I’m sorry, but can you rush this along? Fuck.”
Joseph enters, takes one look around the table and then looks at me. “Tillie, might be a good idea if I take Micaela, yeah?”
I chew my lip and then nod, knowing he’s right. Once Joseph has bounced a happy Micaela out of the room, I look directly at Nate. “What’s happening?”
He searches my eyes, and then says, “We’re going to have shifts between both of us on who gets her. Just like joint custody if you weren’t living here.”
I clear my throat. “Why? I haven’t tried to stop you from seeing her?”
I’m confused why he would feel the need to do this. We live together, for fuck’s sake.
He leans forward, his eyes flat. I already know that he’s about to say something hurtful. “I don’t want to see you, Tillie.”
“We run in the same circles, Nate,” I shoot back using his own tone.
He looks to his mom. “She’s right. But I still want guaranteed nights that I get her alone.”
Elena seems to be watching both of us. I shrug. “I can agree to that, Nate.” Then I flinch. “All you had to do was ask. You know, communication.”
His hate for me is real. He’s been so up and down and right to left that I don’t know how to take him anymore.
“Okay, then it’s settled.” Elena reaches for my hand.
Nate’s eyes follow her gesture, but he doesn’t display how it makes him feel.
“What days do you want?” I ask him, my head pounding slightly.
“Every Tuesday night, Thursday night and the whole day on Sunday. I’ve already spoken with Hector, and he’s cool with it.”
I forget he’s a King. I nod. “Sure.” Because I don’t want to be difficult. Then mainly because I’m tired of fighting with him and generally feeling reckless as fuck anyway lately. I stand from the table, ready to leave.
Elena’s hand comes out to stop me. “Can I speak with you for a second?”
I smile down at her. “Sure.”
Nate keeps his eyes on me as he stands. “I take it you’ll be with Madison tonight?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll stay in with Micaela.”
He grins. “Good.” Then he storms out, leaving me confused as fuck and still without answers about his broken knuckles.
I exhale, taking a seat back on the chair. Elena clears her throat. “We know you don’t have a car right now so since we have too many to count…” She grabs a set of keys off the table and hands them to me. “Use one of ours to get around in, you know, if you ever need a break from my son or just to take Micaela out in general.”
I shake my head. “I can’t accept that, thank you, though.”
“Tillie,” Elena says, her eyes coming to mine. They’re so much like Nate’s, only gentler. “Please. I would hate for you to think you’re ever stuck here and unable to get away for a bit.”
I sigh, slowly reaching for the keys and taking them from her. “I have no way that I can ever repay you…”
“Oh.” Elena looks over her shoulder but sighs when Nate has already left. “About that…”
Oh no.
She must read the expression on my face because she laughs. “No, no, I’m not about to offer you an absurd amount of money“ —she clears her throat— “but Nate is, I mean has. I’m sure if you check your account you’ll see. It’s the first month’s child support and you’ll get your payments on the first of every month. Another thing is we have a trust account for Micaela set up already. She is included in the same accounts Nate has, but she also has her own for college and anything else she will need for as she gets older. They get more demanding the older they get.”
I’m stumped. Speechless. Child support didn’t even cross my brain—at all, and the fact that Nate did it without me telling him—”Wait!” I freeze. “How did he get my bank details?”
Elena stands from her chair and makes her way to the coffee pot. “There is nothing that boy doesn’t and can’t know, honey.”
Joseph comes back in, bouncing Micaela. He hands her to me, and I thank both of them for the car and again for allowing me to live here. I take Micaela back to the pool house, my thoughts so confuddled and murky from all of the revelations.
After changing her diaper and putting her in her day clothes, a cute little denim tracksuit with a few tears here and there—realizing it’s one of the things Nate bought her—I turn the TV on and put Netflix on as background. Turning Micaela onto her tummy time, I open my bank app to check my account and shoot off the bed when I see the amount.
“Holy fuck!” I look down to a shocked Micaela. “Sorry, baby,” I whisper and wink at her. She smiles and brings her hand back to her mouth to suck on it. God, she’s so cute, and of course she has her father’s dimples. My eyes go back to my phone.
Available balance: $20,468.
The $468 was mine, but he paid me goddamn twenty thousand dollars! I start pacing around the place and then flip Micaela onto her back before continuing to walk around the small apartment.
I need to call him.
I hit dial before I know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m doing it, he has made it clear that he hates me, but what’s there to lose now. More of his love? Sure.
“Micaela okay?” he answers straight away. The fact that he’s a great father is making it harder and harder to hate him.
“Yes, no, she’s fine, but we need to talk about the twenty large you dropped into my account.”
“Why do we need to talk about it? It’s child support, Tillie. Chill.”
I shake my head. “That’s too much.” Shoving on some fuzzy socks, I let the phone rest between my shoulder and ear.
“The fuck it is. I’ll put as much as I want in there, now are you done?” I can hear girls in the background.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Sorry I called…” I flop back onto the sofa.
He curses. “Fuck. Wait.” Then he tells everyone to shut the fuck up in the background. “You there?”
“Yes…”
He exhales. “Don’t fucking apologize for calling me, Tillie. You can call me when it’s about Micaela.”
“But it wasn’t about Micaela… it was about child support.”
“You’re awfully testy for someone who complains about my moods…”
I rub my temple with my other hand, walking back to the bed. “Forget it, go back to your girls.”
I hang up before he can answer, and I instantly know I’ve fucked up because he hates being hung up on. He doesn’t call back, which surprises me because he usually would.
My eyes go to Micaela. “Well, baby girl, what shall we do today?”
You know, since your father is as rich as he is an asshole.
Just as I’m gathering up some extra diapers and a bottle to take with us, my phone dings.
Madz: Upto today?
I type out a reply. Going to take Micae
la out somewhere. Dunno where.
Madz: I want to come! Be there in 5.
I put my phone down and pick Micaela up. “Your aunty Madz is a little pushy, but she loves the shit out of you.”
Micaela looks between my eyes and my mouth, a gummy smile beams up her beautiful face. “No.” I shake my head. “Please no.” Tilting my head sideways. Micaela’s smile turns into a half smirk, one dimple sinking in completely, her eyes still on mine in fascination. “Fuck!” I exhale and then flinch. “Sorry, baby, but fuck,” I whisper out, annoyed.
“What’s up?” Madison says, walking through the front door.
“She has his grin.”
Madison cracks up laughing, pushing her glasses out of her eyes and onto the top of her head. She looks me up and down. “I can’t believe you’ve had a kid. Like everything shrunk, but your ass and that is a very, very good thing…”
I roll my eyes, handing her Micaela as I gather up the last of our things. “I have stretch marks, Madz. Stretch marks!”
Madison looks me up and down. “I didn’t see any on your stomach.”
“My thighs!”
Madison rolls her eyes. “So, some people have them without getting an adorable little girl. Be grateful.”
“I am!” I snap, putting my Ray-Bans on my head. “I was just saying, I’m not perfect and I’m not one of those moms who get like, nothing and get all nice and skinny straight away. I had to get abducted by my crazy sister to not eat and lose the weight.”
We make our way outside when Madison stops, looking at me. “Wait, what car do you have?”
I bring the keys up to her, and her eyes go wide. “Oh wow, they’re giving you the G-Wagon?”
“They’re not giving it to me, I’m just borrowing it.”
Madison smiles at me like I’m crazy before we go toward the door that leads to their glass show garage.
Madison taps the light switch and after a few flickers, they flash on and— “Oh my God.”
Madison laughs. “Yeah, our family is a little over the top. Well, Dad is. He’s always been a car guy, but this is nothing. You should see Bishop’s dad’s garage. It’s insane, I mean, cars on platforms.”