RUINED - The Price of Play: Everhide Rockstar Romance Series Book 2

by Tania Joyce

  His whole body went rigid. Fear flashed in his eyes. “You can’t. Can’t you see what you could be in for? Jenny was well behaved tonight. She’s not always like this. My parents have suffered for twenty years raising her. There’s no end in sight. I lived under the same roof as Jenny for twelve years. I still have nightmares about the violence, the screaming, the uncontrollable fits. I love Jenny, but it doesn’t change the fact that she needs constant care. Our baby could be like that.”

  Kara closed her eyes, fighting back tears. “I understand your concerns. I really do. But this is my only chance to have my own baby. I’m terrified, but I’ll go through this alone if I must. For me, there is no other choice.”

  “You do have a choice.” His voice shook.

  The knots in her neck were so tight it took effort to move her head and nod. “I’m an educated woman; I know there are options. I can’t go down that path.” She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. “And you need to know the reason why.”

  She fumbled her hands on her lap. Wrung her wrists. Tugged on the edge of her sleeves. “I’ve got severe endometriosis.”

  Hunter’s face drew blank. A tick twitched in his jaw. He wriggled backward, deeper into the sofa. He closed his eyes, and a deep furrow formed between his brows. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a condition that affects my uterus and ovaries. During my monthly cycle, tissue grows on the outside of my uterus as well as inside. It’s very painful and uncomfortable. The likelihood of me falling pregnant naturally was near impossible. I tried for twelve months with Conrad and it never happened. My endo is so bad, I was booked in to have a hysterectomy after fashion week in February.”

  “Shit.” The color blanched from his face, and he dragged his hand across his five o’clock shadow. “One night with me, using protection, was all it took to fall pregnant?” A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, but no humor touched his eyes. He swiveled his glass around on his knee. “I’m sorry. What you have sounds awful, but it doesn’t change anything. You can’t go through with this.”

  She turned to the heavens. “Yes. I. Can.” Her calm control cracked. “This was an accident. We have to deal with it.” She stabbed a finger against her leg over and over. “I know my body, my mind, and my heart. I’m going to have this baby.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” His whiskey breath crashed into her face. “Do you hear what you’re saying? This will stuff up our lives.”

  “Why?” Fiery blood surged through her system. She threw him a daggered glare. “You don’t have to be involved.”

  “I am involved.” He slammed his glass down on the coffee table. Veins bulged like strangling vines in the side of his neck. “Why don’t I get a say in the matter?”

  The agony, desperation, and pain in his voice shattered her heart, but she had to stay strong. She’d hadn’t done many or made many of her own decisions by herself before, but for her baby she would fight until her last breath. She grabbed a cushion from behind her and clutched it to her chest to stop herself from trembling. “You just don’t. Your involvement, and how much you want to be part of our child’s life, is up to you. That’s the only decision you get to make.”

  “Gee, thanks.” His tone was bitter. “You know the life I lead.” He flicked his hand through the air. “I travel all the time. I live and breathe music. And . . . shit . . . when I’m home, we may operate in different social circles, but we have common friends. You can’t raise our child and it not know I’m its father.”

  “I know.” Her chin trembled. If he decided to have nothing to do with their baby it could affect her in more ways than one. Her heart squeezed, sending a shudder down her spine. “If you want nothing to do with our baby, if I have to sever ties with you and Gemma, stop dealing with you as a client at work, and even if I have to move to a different part of Manhattan so we never cross paths, I’ll do it. This is how serious I am.”

  Hunter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers sliced into his hair.

  All the things she rattled off terrified her. But if she had to act on them it would be a small price to pay. “I know you were hoping for a different outcome, but this is going to happen. You’re going to be a father. I need to know what you want to do so we can come to some sort of an agreement.”

  “What?” He looked up. Hate flared in his eyes. “You want money?”

  “God, no.” She gasped, splaying her hand across her chest. “I don’t want your money. I’m happy to sign anything to free you of that burden if money is all you care about.” Money was the furthest thing from her mind. Thanks to her father, she had more than enough of her own. “It’s my baby, but I’d like it to know its daddy.”

  His eyes bore into her. His jaw locked. “Kar . . . I beg you. Please don’t do this.”

  “I have to.” She blinked tears from her lashes. The clock on the mantel ticked over to 11:27p.m. She couldn’t go around in circles with Hunter anymore. If he kept arguing with her, she’d end up scratching his eyeballs out. Nothing would change her mind. “It’s my baby. Our baby. A part of you is growing inside me. Let’s work out our differences for our child’s sake. Please?”

  “You’re asking too much of me, Kar.”

  She took a few shaky breaths. “I know it’s a lot to take on, but we’ll get there. I promise.”

  “I doubt it.” He scoffed.

  Stretching her neck from side to side, a headache loomed behind her right eye. Exhaustion seeped into every bone. It’d been a long nine hours since she left New York. “I’m tired. Can we please continue this conversation tomorrow?”

  The stress hadn’t left his face, but he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he whispered. “You need anything?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll show you to our room.”

  Hunter carried her luggage upstairs and grabbed her a towel for the shower. After a quick good night, he disappeared downstairs. With every step she took around the bedroom, the hollowness in her chest grew heavier. She had to face the real possibility he’d want nothing to do with the baby. While she was determined to face the challenge of being a single mom head on, was she prepared to uproot her whole life?

  Her heart palpitated. Her head spun. Every day presented new obstacles. Some would be bigger than others. Some potentially drastic. But nothing and no one, not even Hunter, would stop her from having this baby. Her decision was final.

  Chapter 8

  Hunter didn’t want to feel anymore. Since Kara went to bed, he’d only moved from the living room sofa to fetch his guitar and use the restroom. He refilled his glass with a splash of JD and gulped a mouthful. Sinking back into the sofa, he stretched out his legs on top of the coffee table, let his head fall back, and stared at the wrought-iron chandelier.

  He embraced his guitar and quietly strummed at the strings, wishing the music would ease his mind. But it didn’t. The reality of having a baby terrified him. After talking to Kara, he was at a loss. He’d exhausted all his options. What else could he do to change her decision? He’d tried to be reasonable and understanding. He’d hoped she’d see that getting rid of the baby was the right decision for them both. But nothing had worked.

  Damn stubborn woman.

  And then she threw in the whammy. Her health complications. An unexpected ace to play.

  Crap.

  The alcohol burned through his veins. The clock on the mantel chimed one a.m. As if on cue, the door to the den banged open and his father staggered along the hall.

  Rubbing his bleary eyes, his dad yawned. “What are you still doing up?”

  “You forget,” Hunter grumbled. “These are my normal hours. On tour, we rarely get to bed before three or four in the morning.”

  “Is that why you don’t get your ass out of bed until lunchtime?”

  “Yep.” Hunter slipped his fingers along his strings, playing low chords.

  “Why the damage to the whiskey?” His father pointed to the half-empty bottle on the coffee table beside his
feet. “Before you drink it all, can I join you for a nightcap?”

  “I’m not in the mood for company.” He wanted to be left alone. And pray for a miracle.

  “Tough.” His dad grabbed a crystal tumbler from the sideboard, poured a drink, and sat in the armchair opposite.

  Hunter closed his eyes, concentrating on the quiet sounds of the night—the soft music from his guitar, the clock ticking, the fridge thermostat clicking on and off, the fireplace flickering. Anything to stop thinking of the baby. But thoughts hammered his head like heavy metal music. Panic gurgled up his throat and squeezed it tighter and tighter.

  His dad cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  Hunter tipped his head forward. Why would his dad care? He hadn’t any interest in his problems for the first twenty-four years of his life.

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You taking drugs again?”

  “What?” Hunter’s jaw dropped. “No. I haven’t taken drugs since our first tour. That shit fucks me up. I drink; that’s it. And I don’t even do that on tour very often now. It screws with my vocals.”

  But tonight had called for it. And with two more days before he went back on the road, he intended to do even more damage to the bottle in front of him.

  He reached for his whiskey, knocked it back, savored the burn in his throat, and poured another.

  “What’s got you in this state?” His dad’s salt-and-pepper hair shone silver in the night light, making him look older than his fifty-two years. “Has it got anything to do with your girlfriend?”

  Girlfriend? What a joke. “Kara? No. Yes. I mean . . . no. Yes. Fuck. I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He clamped his hand around the neck of his guitar. Pressure mounted in his temples.

  His father chuckled. “She’s got you by the short and curlies, hasn’t she?”

  “It’s not what you think. It’s complicated.” Zzzzzpt. His fingers slipped down the strings.

  “Try me.”

  “Dad, I can’t. I don’t need you telling me off again about how disappointed you are in me, or how stupid I am, or immature, or whatever else it is you hate about my life.”

  “Hunter . . . I’m not disappointed in you. Not at all.”

  Since when? His dad had always been on his case when he was younger. Play football. Go to college. Get your head out of the clouds. After a while, Hunter had learned to switch off.

  “You chose a very different path in life to what I expected,” his dad said. “You defied my advice and fought me at every turn. I may not be the best father in the world, but I never . . . never stopped you from following your dreams. I may have tried to influence you to take a different road every now and then, but you were so adamant about music. I couldn’t comprehend it. But I am proud of you. Even prouder of how successful you’ve become.”

  Hunter’s gut lurched as if he’d been socked in the abdomen. That was the first time he’d ever heard his dad say something like that. Was his father finally noticing that he had talent and what it took to make it in the music industry? Maybe his old man was softening in his old age.

  If his dad could change, anyone could. Had his father learned to accept and deal with things that were out of his control?

  Shit. Was that what Hunter had to do with Kara?

  Pushing her out of his mind, Hunter shot back his whiskey. The vapors made his head spin. His dad was only sucking up because he liked his money to pay for this house they lived in, and for Jenny’s care. Nothing else. “Dad, you hate my music.”

  “Jenny plays it aaalll the freaking time. Give me Metallica any day over the pop-rock shit you sing. If I hear ‘Better’ one more time, I swear I’m gonna lose my shit.”

  Hunter laughed. Irking his father might help him forget his troubles for a while. Striking the notes on his guitar, he softly sang.

  I knew my life would get better, the minute you walked away,

  So pack your bags, get out of here, I’ve got nothing left to say.

  My friends all never liked you, I should have taken note,

  But now I see their point of view, guess they get my vote.

  His father shook his head and covered one ear with his hand. Hunter kept going, drawing from deeper down in his diaphragm.

  Oh, now I know it took me way too long to see,

  That you’re an evil spirit, trying to live inside of me.

  I’ve found someone who’s better, in every possible way,

  So good riddance to you and your shit, I’ve seen the light of day.

  Tapping his foot, and with a huge grin, his dad joined in the song.

  Took me a while to find my strength and pick myself back up,

  Wasn’t giving up on love even though I’d lost my luck,

  But the good thing is I don’t care for you, no, I do not give a fuck.

  His dad’s voice was flat, off-key, and sore to the ear, but Hunter kept on singing.

  Now I’ve found someone new, who put me back together,

  Taken away the heartache, and I couldn’t feel much better.

  Life is great without you, stop calling me on the phone,

  We’re well and truly over, babe, my heart’s found a new home.

  Oh, now I see who you really are,

  Wasted too much time with you,

  Now I’ve raised the bar.

  “Why do you have to write such God damn catchy tunes?” His dad downed his whiskey and poured another shot.

  Hunter glanced at a photo on the piano of him, Kyle, and Gemma at the Grammys. “It might be catchy but the lyrics are therapeutic. I wrote that song with Kyle and Gem after being dumped by Amie. Bitch from hell.” It always reminded him not to get involved with someone ever again. That way he could never be hurt. People thought he was shallow, but Amie was worse. All she’d ever wanted was a career, money, and men. He’d been blind to it all and had fallen for her hard. He’d never make the same mistakes again.

  “You shouldn’t have screwed your manager. You haven’t slept with the new one, have you?” His dad’s eyes filled with concern. “What’s her name? Sophie?”

  “No . . . I’ve got the wrong genitalia for Sophie. I’ve enough women throwing themselves at me without having to waste my time and effort on those that are gay.”

  “So, I’ll ask again.” His dad swirled his whiskey around in the glass. “What’s the story with the one upstairs?”

  Kara wasn’t a story; she was his worst fucking nightmare.

  Hunter put his guitar down, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his thighs. “She’s a friend of Gem’s.”

  “And?” His dad rolled his hand through the air.

  “I’ve fucked up.” His voice snagged low in his throat. His heart pummeled against his ribs. “I mean it. I screwed up, big time, and I don’t know what to do.”

  He’d searched his brain over and over again for another valid reason for Kara to see his way was right. Nothing came to light. He was doomed.

  “It can’t be that bad?”

  Hunter ignored the arrogance in his father’s tone. “Worse. First, she’s just a friend, not my girlfriend. Second, she’s pregnant . . . and it’s mine.”

  His father choked and spluttered on a mouthful of drink. He sucked in a huge breath and thumped his fist on his chest.

  Hunter braced himself, prepared for the worst ear-bashing of his life. He deserved every bit of it and more. But his dad just sat there, not saying anything. It made Hunter’s stomach curdle and unnerved him, because his dad always had an opinion.

  He couldn’t take his father’s vacant gaze any longer. “It happened at Kyle and Gem’s engagement party. Before you go off at me for being reckless”—Hunter threw up his hand—“we used protection. But it failed.”

  “Didn’t you learn from your last accusations?” The disdain that was so often present in his father’s tone returned. “If you’ve slept with half the number of women I hear about, I’m amazed it hasn’t happened sooner.�
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  “Not. Helping. Dad.”

  “Is she after your money?”

  “No. She’s loaded. Her dad is some guru on Wall Street. He gave her and her sister portfolios worth a gazillion dollars each on their eighteenth birthdays.”

  “Lucky her.” His father rolled his eyes and wiped his hand over his mouth. “But pregnant, hey?”

  “I don’t want it. I told her to get rid of it. But . . . she wants to have the baby. Dad?” He never asked his dad for advice, but now he felt like getting down on his knees and begging. “What am I going to do? I’m scared. Scared because it could turn out like Jenny. I brought Kara here hoping that meeting Jenny would make the decision a no-brainer. I know it’s selfish and wrong to think this way, but I can’t help it. It’s hard after what I grew up with. I’ve seen how much you and Mom have suffered over the years.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. It hasn’t been easy.” The sorrow in his dad’s voice struck Hunter hard. “Some days, it felt like we took two steps forward and twenty back. But Jenny’s grown so much. She goes to school. She’s got a job at the nursery. And she has time at the group home.”

  Hunter wished he could do more to relieve the burden and hellish days for the families who had to live with autism. With two homes established here in Chicago, and more homes opening soon, his Collins Foundation was only one note trying to make a difference to a symphony of songs. He knew his efforts made a small difference to people’s lives.

  “It’s got better,” his dad continued. “Life has changed for Jenny since moving from New Jersey. The school here has been the best thing for her. But, like in all families, there are good and bad days.”

  Hunter closed his eyes, trying to erase the nightmares from his memory. “I remember I used to lock myself in my room when Jenny had one of her turns, or to get away from you and Mom fighting.” He’d huddle under his bed with his pillow over his head, trying to block the screams and shouts. “Music saved me.”