Rags 2 Pitches: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (17 page)

Chase

My head was spinning out of control as I tried to keep my eyes on the road. I didn’t want anyone to talk to me. Especially her.

Kayla had had our baby. God knows who was watching the baby and where they kept her when Kayla was getting into black market fights.

I didn’t know the woman at all.

I felt like the person I had been sleeping with and pining over for the last few years was the devil in disguise. The whole thing was fucking fucked up. I didn’t even want to know what had put the fright into Reg as he told me to drive. I just couldn’t take my eyes off Kayla, and then before I knew it I was looking at the little girl.

Shit, I didn’t even know her name.

I wondered how old she was.

But I could easily figure it out by doing the math from the time Kayla left to when the little girl ran into her arms.

A fucking carbon copy of me. Kayla wouldn’t dare deny that she was my daughter.

No woman had made me want to lose control before.

No woman had made me cry.

Or make me want to give up everything in my life just to be by her side.

Finding out that the person I felt that way about was nothing but a lowlife and the devil in disguise made me feel numb. At first I was angry, but I knew the only way to get us safely back to Yale was to be numb, and pretend that I was alone in the car. No one else was in here. All sounds would be blocked. Nothing would be seen, apart from the highway and other cars. Everything would be invisible until we got there. Then, I would get Reg to sort her out. So I could fucking blow.

This whole thing had been a shock to the system.

It had started when I saw Kayla in the ring. Tonight of all nights. Imagine if I had stayed away? I hadn’t wanted to go to the fight in the first place.

Shit, if I had stuck to my guns and said, “Hey Reg, I don’t want to go to the fight,” I never would have fucking known that Kayla was fighting in black market fights. Even worse, I never would have known that I have a daughter. I’d missed over two years of her life, and not by choice. That had been taken away from me by the woman I’d thought I loved.

There was one thing I knew for sure: I didn’t love her anymore.

Those nights of pining for her and worrying about her ass were put to an end the moment I realized her true colors. There was nothing left but contempt and hate.

I didn’t even want to know the answers - she would lie. Women like that had it in their blood, which made me think not only had she left knowing that she was carrying my child, but she hadn’t told me the truth about how she felt about me.

The love we’d shared was only one-sided.

I would make it clear when we stopped that I would look after my daughter.

Without her.

One thing I didn’t want or need was someone like Kayla in my life.

***

“Here!” I said as I stopped in front of The Study at Yale Hotel. There was no way I was bringing her to my dorm. Then again, I was confused for a second. I didn’t trust Kayla one little bit. What would I do, leave her here with my daughter?

Or take my daughter to the dorm with me?

Shit, that wouldn’t go down well. I glanced a few times in the rearview mirror. The way the baby was holding tight to Kayla, I knew that I couldn’t keep them apart for the night.

There was only one option: we were all going to have to spend the night here. I would make sure that Kayla wouldn’t leave. It was almost as if Reg read my thoughts when he blurted, “Right, I’ll get us a suite.”

Great, that would mean we would all be in the same room. I would lock the fucking door and make sure that she didn’t escape.

What a fucking fantastic birthday my best friend was having.

Shit, I needed to make it up to him big time after I got rid of Kayla and got possession of my kid. Those were the two things that I had to do this weekend.

I just didn’t want to see her ever again, and I knew the best way to get rid of her.

Money.

She was the type of person that seemed to thrive on pain and hurting people but, most of all, she must have loved money. That must have been the reason that she wanted to fight in the black market.

“We need to sort out clothes, Kayla,” Reg said as he opened her door and she slowly crept out. I kept an eye on her from the corner of my eye, avoiding direct contact because I didn’t want to see her. She would probably give me a soppy look that would say I should forgive her.

That she was sorry.

But I knew what lay in her heart - she didn’t fucking have one. It was fucking nonexistent. What kind of woman would raise their daughter in that kind of lifestyle, knowing that they had options? My Dad was a fucking oil tycoon. She didn’t need to do that shit to get money. My family had enough to make sure that she would never need anything in her life. Then again, maybe she thought that if I found out, I would make her have an abortion.

Nah, she would probably say that, but that wasn’t why she did it. It made no sense. The only thing that made sense was knowing that Kayla was the type of girl that I had always stayed away from.

The bad girls.

The ones that were nothing but trouble.

I laughed to myself because the quiet girls always had that type of reputation. They were quiet because they were always up to something. Up to no good.

“Wrap the blanket ’round you,” I commanded Kayla as I got out of the car. She only had her bloody shorts and a sports top on. I could imagine the looks she would get if she walked in like that. The staff would probably call the police.

“Reg, get us a suite and then call and let me know the room number. We’ll take the elevator up.”

Reg simply nodded. They had suites with a couple of rooms. Reg and I would share one, and Kayla and the little girl would be in the other. As soon as they went to their room, I would make sure to lock the living room door. They would only be able to leave by that exit.

I didn’t trust Kayla one bit.

Not at all.

I needed to get my thoughts together before I dealt with her.

But, one thing for sure. I wanted her well and truly out of my life.

Chase

Kayla and the little girl went into the bedroom. Reg had asked the receptionist to make sure that the living room had beds for us to sleep in, so we had to wait a little while.

He even managed to pull a few strings at nine in the morning and get some clothes and underwear brought to the hotel for both the little girl and Kayla. I had spent most of my time outside of the car, smoking way too much, trying to avoid looking inside, and watching my phone frantically to see when Reg called so I’d know what to do next.

I even spoke to Miles. He said something about hooking up with some girl, and that he wouldn’t be back until Tuesday, which suited me just fine. Seeing his face and hearing him ask a million questions about what we were up to was something that I wanted to avoid.

Kayla appeared grateful. She tried to talk to me again as she stood in front of me and smiled, but I walked away and ignored her. She had never seen me angry and, if she had pushed me, she would have seen a picture that she never thought was possible. I was a laid-back kind of guy.

“You ready to talk now?” Reg asked as I sat down on the sofa bed. I didn’t feel like sleeping after driving hundreds of miles and smoking nearly a whole pack of cigarettes.

“Talk?” I asked. I stood up, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing I wanted to do was talk. I should have been tired, but I had too much adrenaline rushing through my body.

“Fucking talk!” I slumped on the bed as he headed to the bar. “Something strong, please. Anything. I need to knock out so that I can fucking calm down. She’s fucking…”

He waved his finger in the air, warning me to calm down. I think he was probably regretting asking me to talk. I wanted to scream, shout, and fucking punch the wall. Do anything but talk. I was so damn mad. He’d opened the gateway to this conversation and he shook his head. “I’m not the one you should be fucking mad with.”

He handed me a glass of whiskey, which went down in one gulp. “Shit, that felt good.”

He laughed as he headed back to the minibar and I said, “Shit, forget the damn glasses.”

“Your daughter is beautiful, man. Even if she looks just like you.” He handed me a bottle.

I questioned his statement. “What do you mean, ‘even if she looks just like you’? You saying I’m ugly or something?”

I think it was the lack of sleep and the whiskey that made me focus on unimportant things.

I had a daughter I hadn’t known about.

A girlfriend that I found out was black market boxing.

And we were having a discussion about whether my daughter was pretty or not?

“Seriously, man, the girl’s cute.”

I nodded at his comment. We had the blinds drawn and the room only had the dim light from the lamp that was by his bed. It was enough to know the difference between when the bottle was coming in my direction and when the bottle was going in his direction.

“She takes after her old man.” I laughed to myself. Shit, I was a fucking Dad. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“What did Dad marry? I mean, Kayla is a piece of work. I get the feeling that her mom is too.”

Reg said, “Maybe. But the whole thing doesn’t make sense. Why leave pregnant and have a baby on the streets? Unless something got her scared. Something made her leave, and then she found out she was pregnant.”

Reg was a regular Sherlock Holmes. Coming out with all these different options that hadn’t even entered my mind. But he was wrong. He was seeing her as a victim, but girls like that are never victims, they’re just cause fucking tragedies.

“Seriously, Sherlock. Kayla is just one of those girls. Bad. Trouble. Fucking liar. Nothing more.”

He laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re either fucking drunk, or just blind.”

He made me think for a split second, but the alcohol was really going to my head. Reg and I kept shifting the bottle between us, and then we were out like a light. Who knows how long we slept for, but the rest did exactly what I needed it to do. It put the pain away into a box.

Away from the anger that was boiling inside of me.

Away from Kayla.

Kayla

I was just lying on the bed. I couldn’t sleep. The fear that I’d had before the fight with Natalie was nothing compared to my fear of what was going to happen when I had to get out of this bed and face Chase.

He didn’t want to look at me. Speak to me. Hear my voice. It was as if I disgusted him.

I cried as I held Sydney close to me. I brushed her blond strands away from her face, making sure I didn’t suffocate her as I held her.

I’d tried to kill his baby.

That had been my first reaction when I’d found out that I was pregnant; I’d gone to the clinic to have her terminated.

I’d had his baby while living with Hannah, thinking that she would take care of us. Willy had voiced the fact that he was disappointed by my choices. That I hadn’t left when I’d had a chance to leave. I had repeated the same thing to myself for the last three years.

Why the fuck did I keep making the same stupid mistakes?

I’d paid a price.

A heavy one, and I had paid it.

It was almost as if the last three years had been erased. It just didn’t seem right. Not fair at all. It was almost as if it was payback for what I had done to Chase.

“Mommy,” Sydney whispered in her sleep. Sydney was having nightmares. When we’d first got to the room, Reg had told us to get some sleep, and we would all talk later on. I’d had a bath, and had made me so stiff I could barely get out.

Talk.

What was there to say?

I’d run away and I’d had Chase’s baby. I couldn’t tell them more than that. The truth would open a new can of worms, and Chase might even contact Mom and tell her about what had happened.

Shit!

Just say he’d called his Dad already, and told him that he had found us. I tried to get up, but Sydney was holding on to me tightly, and eventually sleep did get the better of me. But, it ended up being the biggest nightmare of them all. The one that made me run away in the first place.

The night before our getaway had confirmed that we needed to leave.

“Where the fuck is she?” Dad had slurred as he came through the door. I’d realized my mistake there and then. I had been too tired to go upstairs. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there, but Mom had made her instructions clear: “Never, ever be in the living room or in sight if I am not home. Do you understand, Sadie?’

I did, and I had followed her instructions. But, not this day. Just this once.

Dad slammed the door shut and, as I stood up to leave, he threw the bottle he had in his hand in the direction of my head.

“I come back from my birthday celebration with my friends, and she’s not here. Where is she?” he’d run after me like a cat in heat, charging me, spitting fire in my face. The bottle had luckily missed my head. I needed to be as far away from him as possible. We were at the bottom of the stairs. For someone who was drunk, and could hardly string a sentence together, he still had the energy to swiftly move to the foot of the stairs before me.

I cussed myself.

I was shaking in my sneakers, hoping he would get bored and just move on.

“I told that bitch to quit her job. Why isn’t she here?” he snarled as he held on to my arm. Stopping me from leaving. My karate moves, my combat attacks were erased from my mind as the only thing that was going through it was fear.

Mom had had to quit her job as a Risk Analyst for one of the top investment firms after Dad accused her of sleeping with her boss. Which wasn’t true. She got the worst beating ever after he said that her dress smelled of her boss’s cologne. He beat her so bad, one of the neighbors had to take her to the hospital.

I knew she was working as a waitress, so she could be flexible with her hours and be home before he got here. She did it to get paid cash, so he wouldn’t find out.

I knew that she had been working extra hours to help us get away. That was why she told me to stay in my room whenever she wasn’t around. She didn’t want anything to look suspicious about Dad’s death, so she kept her wages in a safe place. I knew about it. It was in the garage under a set of dresses that she had boxed away. Somewhere he wouldn’t look. Mom had told me in case of an emergency. I hadn’t understood what I was supposed to do with all that cash. If I did need to run, it would have to be with her, I could never do it alone.

I would never leave without her, even as much as I wanted to that night.

I whimpered, “Please, Dad, you’re hurting me.”

He smiled as he said, “Good, because I’m about to hurt you some more.”

I closed my eyes and thought about anything else. Something to stop the pain as he dragged me up the stairs head first. Punched me in the face, and told me not to come out.

“Stop crying like a bitch. Cause when your Mom gets home, she’s going to need someone to take her to the hospital.”

With those words, he slammed the door shut.