Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance (34 page)

He collapses on top of me, but shifts so his weight is more
to the side than directly on me. Our breaths echo in the room, both of us
winded. Eventually, we come down off the high of our lovemaking.

Danny pulls out and rolls us over so he’s beneath me. I lay
my head on his chest. The strength of his heart thumps in my ear.

“It beats for you, you know.”

I lift my head.

His eyes meet mine, brows drawn together. “It’s true. I’ve
loved you since you moved into our guest house, Mo.”

I sit up, nestling between his thighs. “You have not.”

He nods. “Have too. I was just too stupid to do what I had
to do to make you mine.”

My chest tingles as I gasp for breath. I grab my dress from
the pile of clothes on the floor, sliding it over my head.

I call him on his lie. “Then how could you be with all those
other girls?”

He pulls his leg from behind me and stands. Swiping his
jeans from the carpet, he puts them on, saying, “Because I’m a fucking idiot.
And I thought I could never have you, so I had everyone else.”

My soul wants to believe, but my heart is shaking with the
knowledge that doing so could lead to total destruction. I settle on allowing
myself to accept that
he
believes what he’s saying. True or not, maybe
he wants it to be.

I stand and move to the center of the room. Time for a
change of subject. “So, how’s your Mom holding up? Is she mad at me?”

Danny follows me and loops his arms around me. “Mad at you
for
what
?”

I shrug. “I dunno. Being there for him to video? For being
me? I just can’t help but think maybe if I’d done something different—”

He brings my head to his shoulder, wrapping me tight within
his hold. “No. Don’t. Don’t
ever
. This is not, in any way, your fault.
This is that sick bastard’s doing. You have nothing to feel bad about or second
guess. You hear me?”

I nod, warmth spreading from the center of my soul.

“I love you, babe.” He lays a kiss on my crown.

Danny drops to his knees, presses his ear to my belly, and
whispers, “I love you too, baby.”

My hands go to the top of his head as he hugs me close,
kissing my tummy all over. When he tilts his his face up, his eyes shine and he
grins like he’s been given a gift. A smile creeps over my face unbidden, but
tears sting the backs of my eyes.

If only I could trust that he’d always feel that way.

I twist out of his arms and run to the bathroom, slamming the
door behind me.

I hit the lock just as he rattles the handle. “Mo? You okay?
Are you sick again?”

Leaning against the counter, I put my hand on the door. “I
just need a minute. Actually, I think I just need some time to think. I’m
sorry, Danny, but I can’t do this right now. I’m just—”

“I get it. You haven’t decided yet.”

I cup my hand over the baby bump that hasn’t even happened.
My lungs seize. Tears stream down my cheeks, though I try to stop them with trembling
knuckles.

There are so many words I should say. But all I can do is
hunch over the tiny heart beating inside my womb and hold myself together with
my own arms.

His voice rasps through the crack between the door and the
frame. “I—I just want you to know I’m here. For you
and
the baby. I’m
not running off. I’m not leaving. I’m not going to abandon you. Ever. I want
this baby, Mo.”

The silence seeps around the door for the longest time.

After several minutes, he adds, “And I want
you
. More
than
anything
, I want
you
.”

I’m helpless. There’s not a thing I can do to make her see I
love her. Or to make her trust me. She never answered what I said about leaving
her. She didn’t say another word all night.

She stayed holed up as though she couldn’t stand to look at
me. I waited outside the bathroom until Slade came home in the wee hours of the
morning and asked me to leave.

My heart weighs three tons.

All I want is to take care of her.

Now I lean against a bank of windows.

The construction seems to never end at this airport. Bulldozers
push dirt this way and that. Ten men in hard hats stand around in the summer
sun, watching one man dig a hole.

Why do they never have ten guys digging the hole? Because a
man can dig a hole he can’t get out of all by himself.

I sure as hell did.

All the snubbing my nose at my dad and his fucking rules—except
the one rule I should have ignored from the start, no matter the cost. All the girls
I paraded in front of Mo, trying to make myself feel better since I couldn’t
have her. I used those girls to build walls between me and who I wanted most.

I blocked out my feelings, so I couldn’t see Mo past it all.
It never really worked though. I was always aware of her, always knew she was
right there, just on the other side.

Now those walls have collapsed on top of me, burying me
beneath a giant pile of shit I can’t seem to climb out of. She probably thinks
I’m not capable of a solid relationship, because I’ve never been in one. But I
was never in one because the only relationship I’ve ever wanted was with her.

What the fuck have I done?

I thought I was building walls to protect myself, protect
her. What I was really doing was laying bricks for my own mausoleum.

A flood of people come through the revolving door from the
concourse into the baggage claim area. Rachel drags her carry-on behind her,
her mouth set in a grim line. I let out a defeated sigh. How do I tell her how
badly I’ve messed up with Mo?

I wrap my arms around Rach, giving her a kiss on the top of
her head. “Hey, Sis. How was the flight?”

She shrugs. “How’s Mom? How’s
Mo
?”

I cringe.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

She hooks her arm around mine and bumps me with her
shoulder. “Then tell me.”

* * *

By the time I’ve given Rach all the nasty details, minus the
sexiest parts about me and Mo, we’re passing the gaggle of reporters camped out
by our front gates.

“Man alive. Look at that.” Rachel turns to stare out the
back window as we pull through the massive iron bars that keep our private
lives—well, not-so-private now, I guess.

At the house, Rachel gets out of the car, casting a look
down to the guest house. “So, she’s gone?”

“Yeah. Staying with Slade.”

Her forehead wrinkles. “Slade? Like,
Slade
Slade?”

“They’re friends I guess. I had no idea until she told me he
was her study partner for one of her summer classes.”

Inside, Mom’s on the sofa asleep, a bottle of vodka and a
glass on the end table. My gut hardens.

Rachel shakes her head. “Here we go again.”

Dad comes in and smiles at Rachel. “Hey, Pumpkin.”

She steps closer to me, no smile in return. “Dad.”

He frowns and tosses a disapproving look my way. “Your
brother been telling tales? Rachel, please don’t believe everything you hear.”

She pushes away from me and grabs her backpack from my hand,
backing toward the stairs. “I have no idea what to believe right now. I’ll let
you know when I figure it out.”

My chest puffs out at her audacity—so unlike her. Go, sis.

I follow her up to her room and leave her bags for her. “If
you want to talk, I’m down the hall, packing.”

“Packing?”

“Yeah. It’s time. I’m too old to live at home. Besides,
after what he did to Mo, I can hardly stomach looking at Dad. Makes me want to
rip his fucking face off.”

Rach drops her backpack and gives me a big hug. “Sorry,
Danny. I know how much you care for Mo. I hope you guys work everything out.
Have you told Mom about the baby?”

I grab her shoulders. “No. And you can’t tell her either.
Not until Mo decides what she’s going to do. Mom’s got way too much dragging
her down right now. Hell, she’s already fallen off the wagon, and she hadn’t
even been dried-out for four months yet.”

“I know. I was just asking.” She squeezes me again. “Okay.
Let me
un
pack while you pack. I’ll see you in a little while.”

I pull out my phone on my way down the hall. No calls or
texts from Mo. Damn.

I send her one.

Dying to see you, but reporters lurk. Don’t attempt rescue.

* * *

I add DVDs on top of my video games. As I fold the flaps of
the box over so they stay secure without tape, Rach pushes my door open.

“Hey, you forget how to knock in Africa?”

Her face is pale, eyes wide. “Come downstairs. The police
are here.”

I suck in a deep breath and nod.

At the top step, Rachel takes my hand. I give hers a
squeeze.

In the living room, a youngish officer reads Dad his Miranda
rights while another puts handcuffs on him. Mom glares at him from her
armchair, a glass of bourbon in her hand.

As the cops push Dad toward the front door, he says, “Rachel,
go look in my contacts on my phone and call Sean Silva. He’s my attorney. He’ll
get this straightened out in no time. I’ll be home later.”

“She’ll do no such thing, David. You did this to yourself.
You figure it out.” Mom slams her glass onto the coffee table and stands.

I follow Rach and Mom into the foyer. Dad leans toward Rachel.
“Give me a hug, sweetie. It’s going to be okay.”

Rach moves behind me.

Dad glares at me. “This is your fault, you little shit. If
you’d have just done what I said, none of this would be happening.”

My hands fist at my sides and I suck in a deep breath. “I
didn’t do a thing. This is all on you.”

His face reddens. “And I should have never taken in that
cunt whore you couldn’t keep your dick out of to save your fuc—”

My fist connects with his face as all the built-up rage boils
over at his words. Dad stumbles backward and hits the wall, slipping to the
floor, his expression dazed.

One of the cops grabs my arms and pushes me away from the
piece of shit crumpled on the carpet. “Sir. We need you to step back.”

I stare down at Dad over the cop’s shoulder. “Don’t you ever
speak of her.
Ever
. You sick fuck, you don’t even deserve to think about
her.”

The other cop hauls Dad to his feet and drags him out. The other
officer lets go of me and follows. Mom slams the door as they cross the
threshold.

She hugs me around the waist and motions for Rachel to join
us. We stand holding each other together for a moment, our world upside down
and sideways. I hurt for the pain they must feel, even while a huge weight
seems to be lifting off my shoulders.

I squeeze Mom and Rachel before I head up the stairs.

Pulling out my phone, I text Mo.

The cops just picked up Dad.

I smile at the text lighting up my screen as I lay my phone on
the arm of the sofa. Slade sets a glass of water on the side table and offers
me a plate of food.

With a grimace, I say, “No thanks; I feel weird.”

“You know, I was reading in that book you have that morning
sickness can last the entire nine months for some women. That must suck.”

I rub my temples and wiggle around, trying to get
comfortable. I hold out my hand. “Give it to me. You don’t need to read that.
You might start producing estrogen or something.”

He pulls the book from under his butt and shakes his head.
He opens it, turning it one way and then the other, finally flipping it upside
down. “There are some interesting pictures in here. Kinda makes me want to be a
doctor.”

I giggle. “Yeah. Slade, the OB/Gyn.”

He frowns. “Hey. It could happen. I’m a smart guy. I could
do it if I wanted to.”

I wipe off my grin. “Okay. Maybe.”

“I take it, since you’re buying prego books, you’ve decided
to have the bambino?”

“
Bambino
?”

He shrugs, winking at me.

I inspect my nails. “Well, I’m a smart girl. I can do it if
I want to.”