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Authors: Penelope Silva,Clementine Roux

Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1) (20 page)

BOOK: Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1)
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Candy didn’t attempt to walk away. I think she thought I was joking with her.

“Sorry,” I offered. “I have to call and check on my baby.”

Damn, why did I sound like one of those guys who had to check in with his wife?
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and scrolled through the photos, searching for a photo of Isla to help me get my mind off this horny, little woman. My palms began to sweat. My heart raced.

“Are you afraid of me? Do black women intimidate you?” Candy was goading me, trying to snare me.

I scoffed at her words. “I’m not afraid of anyone. I’m saying now isn’t a good time. If I had met you a few months back, believe me, we’d be hot and heavy - all day, every day - but now isn’t our time. Life has moved on for me. I’m not that guy anymore.”

She laughed a hearty laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re Beck Alexander. You love women!”

“That’s why you and I wouldn’t be a good idea,” I tried, hoping she’d find someone else who needed the ride of his life, but I wasn’t that guy. Not tonight anyway.

I must have gotten my message across because, after a moment, Candy walked away and found a nice, comfortable seat on one of my teammate’s laps. It was like she forgot all about me. I didn’t know if I should have been relieved or disappointed. I nodded in my teammate’s direction to indicate all was good with me, but couldn’t look at Candy again. She would forever go down in history as the first woman I’d rejected because of another woman.

“Hello?” Isla sounded like she was out of breath.

“How are you doing?” I asked. “You don’t sound good.”

Isla breathed into the phone. “I don’t feel well. I think I ate something bad.”

I could tell by the tone of her voice there was more to it than that. She sounded like she was in pain. “Are you sure? Where are you hurting?”

She didn’t answer.

I listened to her struggle for breath.

“Isla?” Something was wrong. “Where’s Frank?”

Between deep breaths, she answered, her voice barely audible, “He’s outside.”

“I’m calling 9-1-1. Don’t move until they get there. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” I hung up and dialed 9-1-1. All my senses were heightened. Isla wasn’t well. I could feel it in my bones.

“What’s up, Beck?” Will asked from across the room. “Is it Isla?”

I couldn’t think straight. “I need a ride. Something is wrong. I have to get to Isla.”

Will jumped up, spiking Candy off his lap. “I’ll drive you. Let’s go.”

We sped through town, racing toward the hospital. Everything was happening so quickly, I didn’t have time to protest Candy’s insistence to tag along. All I wanted was to get to Isla and make sure she and the baby were okay.

By the time we pulled up outside the emergency room entrance, I was frantic. I jumped out of the car, forgetting I was still injured and in a lot of pain.

“Beck!” Candy called out to me as I toppled to the floor.

I pushed myself up off the ground and dragged myself to the entrance. “Where is she?” I scanned the patients in the waiting room. She wasn’t there.

I turned to look at the triage nurse. “I’m looking for my wife, Isla Johnson. She’s pregnant. Where is she?” It didn’t even occur to me that I’d referred to Isla as my wife.

Chapter Twenty-Two – Beck

 

 

 

 

“Don’
t
ever do that to me again,” I said, caressing her face as tears streamed down my face. She looked so helpless lying there.

Smiling slightly, she replied, “I have to keep you on your toes.”

I wanted to pick her up and take her far away from everything. Seeing her like this, tore at my heartstrings. Less than an hour ago, I was fighting the urge to revert back to my old ways and bang some skanky broad because I could. Now, I’m sitting in a small, cold room in the hospital bawling like a baby for a woman I’d only known a short time, but felt like I’d spent my lifetime loving. How did I get here?

The doctor returned to the room, paperwork in hand. “Miss Johnson, how are you feeling now? Is the pain gone?”

Isla shifted, still clutching her belly. “It’s not as bad as it was. It’s tender.”

He wrinkled up his nose, assessing her. “Well, your blood work is back. There are a few concerns, but nothing we can’t treat. You’re anemic. There is an indication you may be suffering from gestational diabetes and--”

“Diabetes? I have diabetes? How could that be? I eat right. I exercise. I--” Isla started.

The doctor stepped closer to show her the test results. “You see, here is where your levels are. This is the range we’d like to see them in.”

Flashbacks of my life as a child flooded my mind. Both my mother and grandmother were diabetics. I remembered what is was like for them. We always had to monitor their health. A simple cut could wreak havoc on their bodies.

“What does that mean? Is she going to be okay? What about the baby?” I asked.

He explained this sometimes happened with pregnant women. Her doctor would monitor her and the baby a little closer.

“Also, your blood pressure is a little elevated. I’d like to check it again, if I could?” The doctor grabbed the apparatus off the wall.

I scooted my chair back to give him some room. He hadn’t asked me to, but I got the feeling, he didn’t feel like he had to ask me to move out of his way. Every question I asked him was met with hesitation, like he didn’t think I deserved a response, like I didn’t matter. I wanted to confront him about that, but with Isla still not feeling well, I didn’t want to add any more stress to her, so I kept my comments to myself.

“Have you ever been diagnosed with high blood pressure? Has your doctor ever mentioned that to you?” The doctor asked Isla.

Isla shook her head. “No, never. What does all this mean? Is my baby in danger?” Isla started to hyperventilate.

The doctor bent over her, telling her to calm down, breathe deeply, and close her eyes.

It was surreal. I couldn’t believe this was happening. In all the time I’d known her, I’d never known her to have panic attacks or get out of control. Seeing her like this, scared the hell out of me.

“What is going on? Isla, I’m right here,” I said, forcing myself to a standing position so she could see me.

The doctor spoke over us. “Someone get in here!”

A couple of nurses rushed into the room. One grabbed an oxygen mask attached by a bracket on the wall behind the bed and placed it on Isla’s face.

“What is wrong with her? What’s happening?” I asked again, but no one responded. They were focused on calming Isla down and making sure her blood pressure didn’t skyrocket.

It took several minutes before she relaxed. I had no idea what I’d witnessed. All I wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe.

“Stressing yourself out isn’t going to help you,” a nurse scolded Isla.

“That’s not her fault. Something is wrong with her. Isn’t it your fucking job to fix it or help her deal with it?” I knew taking my anxiety out on the nurse wasn’t the best idea, but who was she to talk to Isla that way?

“Sir, you need to calm down or we’re going to have to ask you to sit outside in the waiting room,” the nurse challenged me.

I scoffed at her threat. “I’m not leaving. You can kiss my ass, lady,” I murmured under my breath.

Less than ten seconds later, three hefty middle-aged security guards were huffing and puffing in front of me, telling me I had to leave the hospital grounds.

“I’m not going any damn where!” I yelled as the three of them attempted to man handle me and show me a not-so-friendly way out of the building.

Isla was upset all over again. Her face was beet red and, according to the monitors, her blood pressure was on the rise.

“Get him out of here,” the doctor said. “Your boyfriend is not helping matters, Miss Johnson. He’s not going to be allowed on the premises again.”

“Do you know who he is? He’s Beck Alexander and he’s not my boyfriend; he’s my fiancé. He’s upset. He’s worried about me and the baby. Please don’t make him leave,” Isla begged them, but that didn’t change their opinion of me. Sore leg and all, they carried me out into the waiting area and out the exit doors.

“This is bullshit!” I screamed, my fists balling up.

I didn’t want to go to jail. Isla needed me, but who were these people? Had they been living under a rock? Did they not know who I was? I could practically buy this whole damn hospital if I wanted to.

The only person I could think to call was my attorney.

“How are you holding up?” My attorney asked.

“Not good. I need you to come down to the hospital now. Isla is in the emergency room. They kicked me out. It’s a long story, but I need you to call one of your judge friends. We need someone to marry us,” I said.

“What? Why? Now? I mean, is she okay? Is the baby okay?” He asked.

I didn’t have time to explain. I wanted him to do as I said and get there as quickly as possible. “Get down here!” I raised my voice at him. “Do whatever you have to do to make sure it’s all legitimate. Hurry!”

Chapter Twenty-Three – Isla

 

 

 

 


I
promise, he won’t cause any problems,” I assured the hospital security officers. “Look, he just had surgery and is in a lot of pain. He’s on pain medications. You can look it up. I’m sure you have that information in the hospital records. Please, I don’t want to beg you, but I’m begging you.”

I couldn’t believe how low my life had sunk. Here I was, begging a room full of strangers to let my baby’s daddy in the hospital. The funny thing was, I always imagined, if I had to make apologies for anyone, it would have been a black man, not some white football player.

“If he is allowed to return, you do understand security will have to keep him in their line of sight? This is a place of business. People are convalescing. They don’t need someone in here causing a raucous because they’ve had a bad night,” the doctor informed me.

I wish Beck would have punched him in the mouth before they threw him out of the building.

The next several minutes were anxiety-ridden while I waited for the security team to consult with Beck and let him know they were in charge, not him. I knew he wouldn’t take that too well. He liked having full control of every situation, even when he pretended to be the one being led astray, he was in full and utter control.

Having spent as much time with him as I had, I’d begun to see patterns to his behavior. Ultimately, all roads pointed to the fact, his childhood was riddled with drama. I was no expert, but I believed that’s why he lived on the edge of right and wrong. One part of him had his foot planted in what he should have been doing, what was in line with normal conventions, but a deeper, darker side of him, craved thrills, danger, anything and everything that would get him in trouble. I had to wonder which part of his personality I was feeding. Was I good for him or was I providing more bumps in his road? Had agreeing to go along with his game added more stress to his life?

I almost didn’t recognize him. He walked into the room with his head down, like he was ashamed of himself.

“Welcome back,” I teased. “Did you miss me?”

The corners of his mouth quirked up. My beautiful man was still there underneath whatever this was he was presenting himself as. “I miss you all the time,” he answered, looking up at me with dark circles around his eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You don’t look well.”

He looked behind him at the security guards. “I’m good. I was worried about you. How are you feeling?”

Poor guy.

I waited for the others to clear out of the room before I pressed the issue further. I figured he was holding back because we had an audience. I didn’t believe for a second he didn’t have an opinion about what had taken place.

“Are they going to admit you?” He asked, his voice tentative.

I sat up straighter. “Whoa! What’s with this shy guy routine? What are you up to
?” He wasn’t fooling me.

He glanced over his shoulder again, as if he was anticipating someone would walk through the door and interrupt us. “I want to get married,” he said.

“Well, why not! I look and feel like hell; so yeah, let’s get married right now!” I pretended to be excited about it.

“I’m not kidding. I want to get married right here, right now. I called my attorneys; they’re going to find a judge that will marry us today. What do you think? You could be my wife tonight.”

I didn’t know what to make of it.
Where had this come from all of a sudden?

“Isla, breathe,” he said. “You’re all I think about. You’re all I dream about. If I’m not with you, I lose my mind. So, let’s make it official; be my wife.”

I had so many reasons to say no. It’s not that I didn’t love him, because I absolutely did. I wanted to spend my life with him, but I didn’t want to get married in the hospital.

“Why now?” I asked. “What has changed?”

He averted his eyes again, his posture changing. “I almost cheated on you earlier.”

I froze.

“I didn’t cheat, but I almost did. That’s why we need to get married. This girl was begging me. I mean, really begging me to bang her and I couldn’t…” he stopped, noticing the horrified look on my face. “Wait, let me explain. Don’t get mad. This is a good thing. Hear me out.”

“Get out.”

He moved closer to my bed, confusion on his face.

“Get the hell out!” I wasn’t kidding. My whole body started to shake with rage. “Get out now!”

The security guards threw the door open and filed in, one right after another. “Is everything alright in here?”

“I want him to leave. Take him out of here and don’t let him back in,” I ordered them.

Beck started to protest, but it was too late. They’d already grabbed his crutches and his arms, ready to help him out the door.

“Let’s go,” one of the guards said.

I couldn’t breathe
. What did he say to me? What kind of animal tells you he wants to marry you in the same breath, he tells you he almost slept with another woman?

Without putting up a fuss, Beck let them lead him out. I thought I heard him whimper, but I forced myself not to react. It was over. Things had already gone way too far. This had to end and end right now. I didn’t need him.

I pulled my purse off the chair next to me and pulled out my cell phone.

“Hello. Do you realize what time it is?” Cole sounded like I’d woken him up.

“Yeah, sorry, but if the offer is still available, I accept. When can I start?” I asked, resigning myself to being rid of Beck for good.

Cole’s tone changed. “Good. Good. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning. And, by the way, welcome back to the good side.”

BOOK: Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1)
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