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“That’s fine,” I tell her. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

The little boy seems a little frightened. He gives me a wary look, and I can’t help but stare at him. He looks as though he could be Maci’s brother. Except, his face is ashen, almost dirty-looking, as though he hasn’t had a bath in a while. His eyes are sunken in, making them appear almost too big for his little face. His pants don’t meet his shoes, and he isn’t wearing socks. Poor kid. Looks like he hasn’t had an easy life. It breaks my heart to see kids like this.

Maci pulls a granola bar from her jacket pocket and asks him if he’s hungry. He nods his head up and down, obviously excited at the thought of food.

“What’s your name?” Maci asks.

“Sammy,” he says, grabbing my attention. Why does that name seem so familiar? It’s a common enough name, but I know that I’ve heard it recently.

“What’s your mommy doing in there that’s taking so long?” Maci asks innocently.

“It’s bath day,” Sammy tells her, his eyes never looking up from the granola bar.

“Okay, what’s that got to do with the park bathroom?” Ignorance is such bliss, and Maci has no idea what he’s telling her. I wonder whether they’re homeless or just had their water turned off.

The bathroom door squeaks open, and I hear a familiar voice say, “Come on, Sammy. Your… turn.”

The last word gets stuck in her throat when she notices Maci and I standing there talking with Sammy.

I gasp. “Ashley.”

“Tanner… What are you doing here?” She asks, pulling Sammy behind her when he gets close enough for her to grab.

“My niece didn’t want to leave Sammy sitting here alone. She thought the buddy system would be better.” I smile at Ashley while I take in her appearance. She doesn’t look much better than Sammy. They both appear too thin and seem beaten down by life. It dawns on me that Sammy must be about four or five—the same age Ashley’s baby would be.

“Is he….mine?” I ask, needing to know if this impoverished kid is mine.

“He’s mine,” she answers. “Go away, Tanner, and forget that you ever ran into us. It’s what you’re good at.”

“Ashley, is that boy mine?” I ask again more aggressively.

“What does it matter to you?” she spits back. “You made your feelings on the matter very clear five years ago.”

“It matters when you’re bathing in a park bathroom and it looks like you guys haven’t had a decent meal in years. Why didn’t you call? What happened to you, Ashley?”

“You happened to me, Tanner.”

I bolt upright in bed, covered yet again in sweat. Not another fucking nightmare. I don’t know how many more of these I can take.

Chapter 6

Tanner

These fucking dreams are really messing with my head, which in turn, is messing with my game. This is the worst possible time for me to not be on top of things. The playoffs start in two weeks, and I’d like nothing more than for us to clinch the division and give ourselves a week off. I can’t afford to be distracted if I’m going to make that happen. I have an entire team riding on me keeping my shit together—not just for a few minutes but for an entire game. That’s not going to happen if I can’t sleep through the night because I’m having dreams about emaciated little boys. I guess you can’t really call them dreams—more like slow torture. I know Ashley would never let something like that happen to our child intentionally, but if she doesn’t let me into their life, I can’t know for sure that it won’t.

I drag my sorry ass into the locker room after the game and punch my locker. Fuck, I got my ass kicked today, and it’s all because my head’s not in the game. It wasn’t as bad as my exceptionally shitty game last month, but it was bad enough—two fumbles and one interception that was almost run back for a touchdown. Thank God that guy stepped out of bounds right before the pylon. Saved my ass. Coach is lecturing us about how we all need to be present, and I can tell that all of his frustration is directed at me. He’s going on about it being football and “on any given Sunday,” things could change in a heartbeat. As if I need a reminder that we aren’t guaranteed anything…

I’ve got a lot of shit to fix, and I need to fix it fast. It’s the only way that I’ll be able to get my head on straight. It’s probably best to start with my mother. She’ll most likely be the easiest—or maybe Alex, but I’ve already semi-fixed things with him. So, Ma it is.

I’m not sure if Ma came out to the game tonight, but I hope she did. I don’t think she’s catty enough to not show up just because she’s mad at me. Either way, the game’s long over when I pull into my parents’ driveway and make my way up the stoop. Ma must have been expecting me to show up at some point tonight because the porch light is on. She opens the door just as I get up there.

“Hey, Ma,” I greet her apprehensively. I’m not really sure what to expect. I’ve never been on the outs with her before, so I have no idea which way things could go. I stand at the door, waiting for an invitation to enter, not entirely sure if I’m even welcome. Well, I know I’m probably welcome. My parents would never turn their backs on me completely, but after my last encounter with Ma, I’m not assuming anything.

“Hi, honey.” She sighs sadly, stepping out of the way to allow me in. “Have you eaten?” With Ma, an offer of food is as good as any invitation.

“Not yet,” I say, feeling a little confused. I haven’t spoken with my parents since last weekend, and I’d been expecting animosity if anything, not sadness.

“Come on. I’ll fix you a plate,” she says, turning to head toward the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Ma,” I lament, following her into the house. Disappointing Ma has been one of the lowest points in my life, and I want her to understand that.

“I know, honey. I’m sorry too.” She turns away from the kitchen counter to look at me with a weak smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

I pull her into a hug and lean back, resting my butt on the counter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right, as usual,” I reassure her, giving her a bit more of a squeeze. She shouldn’t be upset about what she said. It was the truth.

“I was angry, and I should’ve given myself time to calm down before I went off on you like that. I’m always telling you kids to think before you speak and be careful what you say. I should’ve practiced what I preach. I definitely could’ve handled the situation a little better. ” She pushes away from me and turns to wipe a rogue tear from her cheek. “I’m your mother, Tanner. I should’ve never spoken to you like that. While I strongly disagree with what you did, I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.” she says, trying to collect herself.

I think I hear my heart crack. Ma shouldn’t be carrying around this crap.

“Ma, don’t cry, please. I needed to hear it, and you were the best person to deliver it. Without your extra push, who knows how much longer it would have taken for me to pull my head out of my ass?” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame again. I feel her body shaking from the tears she’s trying to hide in my chest, so I rub her arms up and down, reassuring her again that there’s nothing she needs to be crying over.

I smile at her and reach over to grab her a tissue from the box on the counter. “Ma, seriously, thank you. You gave me that last push I needed to realize that I’m a total dipshit.”

“I’m not just crying because of that. I’m worried for you. This is serious. What if she never lets you see the baby? Even if you win a custody battle, you’re still going to miss so much. I’m going to miss so much. You need to fix this.” She sighs, wiping her eyes.

“I went to see Ashley this week.”

“You did?” she asks, picking her head up and looking me in the eye for the first time since I got here.

“I did. See, I told you that you gave me the kick in the ass I needed.”

“How did it go?” she asks, wiping away at her eyes for any moisture she might have missed.

“As well as could be expected—she told me to beat it. But I told her I wasn’t going to give up that easy,” I say, watching Ma head over to the counter to fix me a plate of leftover lasagna—her Sunday special.

“Good for you. She needs to see that you’re serious now. You really messed up. What’s your plan?” she asks, heading to the table with a plate piled high with food.

“Not a damn clue, any suggestions?” I shove a forkful of deliciousness into my mouth. Mmm… Ma’s lasagna is always so damn good.

A sad look crosses her face as she takes the chair next to me. “You’re going to have to prove that you’re serious about this and in it for the long run. She isn’t going to trust you again easily, sweetie.”

“I know. She even tried to give me back the car I bought her.”

“Damn. She is definitely a woman scorned.” Ma chuckles. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be laughing, but she must be seriously pissed at you to give back a BMW. Sorry to say so, but you’re definitely going to have to think of something big.”

No kidding. I wonder what Ma would say if she’d seen how Ashley looked. A dentist about to do a root canal has probably gotten a warmer reception than that.

Now that things are square with Ma, I need to make sure that everything’s okay with Alex. Since we’re on decent terms, he’ll only require a phone call.

“Dickhead,” he greets me when he answers the phone—seems to be his favorite nickname lately.

“How long you going to keep that up? It’s getting pretty old.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.

He laughs. “That will probably be the last time. I heard you made a visit to see Ashley.”

“Yeah, I think it’s more than safe to say that she hates me, dude. I think she’d like seeing me strung up by my balls—or at least that’s what I feel like her dirty looks were telling me.” I sigh and flop down in the middle of my bed, which seems so empty nowadays.

“Told you, bro. You fucked this one up good.” He laughs. The motherfucker actually laughed at me.

“It’s not funny, asshole,” I snap as I reach to grab a pillow from the top of the bed.

“It is when you’re the one that gets to say ‘I told you so.’” He laughs again, harder this time.

“Yeah, yeah. You told me so. Listen, I need to know if we’re good. I’m trying to fix things with everyone one by one so that my head isn’t one giant clusterfuck.” I close my eyes, and my head begins to throb. I definitely feel a migraine coming on.

“We were always good. I just needed you to see how wrong you were. Every time you went into your little bubble, it pissed me the hell off,” he says, easing one more worry from my mind.

After settling things with Ma and Alex, Ashley is the only one left. I have no clue what to do. I’ve texted her at least a dozen times, trying to get her to agree to at least meet with me. I offer up dinner and lunch—hell, even coffee. Each time I’m met with a
go to hell
or a
fuck off
. Pregnancy has definitely made her feistier. My head is filled with thoughts of Ashley, once again, as I hop in the shower.

Am I fucked up for being happy about her sudden change in demeanor? Ashley has always been easygoing and hesitant to speak her mind. Now, she has no qualms about speaking it whatsoever. It makes me want her even more. Despite the fact that the girl won’t give me the time of fucking day, I can’t stop thinking about her spread out before me with all that fire in her eyes.

My shower turns steamy, the hot water pounding my back as I stand there, thinking about fucking Ashley. My hand wraps around my cock of its own volition. The contact makes me hiss. The roughness of my hand is nowhere as arousing as the warmth and sweetness of Ashley’s. I picture her in front of me, on her knees, begging me to fuck her. Her pleading in my mind turns me on even more.