Having Hope (The Blow Hole Boys Book 4) (22 page)

Altered.

Broken.

Dead.

*****

I made a stop at the local tattoo parlor before going to Finn’s mom’s house. I couldn’t think about food, and I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to smile with my friends and family.

I craved a needle against my skin, stinging and burning. I craved anything that could hurt. I needed something to stab my pressure points and relieve the pain that was climbing throughout my soul.

Climbing into the chair, I told the artist what I wanted. And once his needles began to buzz, I closed my eyes and let him mark my body with a memory I never got to live. I let him mark me with the worst thing that ever happened to me that I never knew about.

And as he burned my skin with his ink, I closed my eyes and thought about the things that brought me happiness.

My children—the one I’d lost—and the one I was hoping to gain.

Hope—my Blackbird—my heart.

My world.

Not my drums.

Not my eyesight.

Just my love for the woman who’d always had me, and my hope that our future would be a happy one.

I survived it. I didn’t think I would, but I did.

I visited my baby girl’s grave, and I didn’t die the way I always pictured I would. It was the first time I’d been there since the day of her funeral, which was really just me and a few of my friends holding me up. My mother had stood to the side smoking a cigarette, and my father had worn jeans with grease on them.

Needless to say, I took off for California a few days later with nothing but a bag of my personal belongings and a few outfits. California was as far as I could get from South Carolina without leaving the country, and I hadn’t been back since.

Until today.

Going to her grave was the third hardest thing I ever had to do—the first being delivering a sleeping baby and the second being burying her—but I did it. And while it hurt as if her death was five days before and not years, I stayed and visited. I stayed and mourned her. 

I placed a single pink rose below her tiny headstone etched with cherubs, which was purchased by a local church, and then I spent a while talking to her. I cried as I expressed my love for her. I promised to never forget her, and when I began to feel like I couldn’t breathe, I placed a kiss on her headstone, told her I loved her, and left.

Afterward, I had the taxi driver take me to the address that Finn gave me, but after sitting in the car and waiting for my eyes not to look like they were melting from my face, I decided to go back to my hotel room. I texted the girls once I was in my room and let them know I wasn’t feeling great and was just going to order room service.

After showering, I pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, ordered room service, and got comfy in bed. I hadn’t gotten sick much since going to emergency room, but I think that was probably because I made sure to eat small snacks every few hours or so … a trick Constance had taught me when I confessed to the girls that I was pregnant.

We were pulling out for Charlotte, North Carolina in the morning, so I had all my things packed and ready, which meant once I ate something, I could crash and hopefully get some sleep. I felt like I hadn’t had a decent night of sleep in weeks, but I wasn’t complaining too much since most of those nights were spent with Chet. 

A knock sounded on the door, and I climbed from the bed excited and ready to sink my teeth into the steak and baked potato I’d ordered, but when I opened the door, instead of a hotel staff member, it was Chet standing on the other side.

He looked like shit. His clothes were disheveled, and he smelled as if he’d bathed in vodka. His eyes were rimmed in red, and his hair was chaotic as if he’d spent the night tugging on it.

He leaned against the door frame and rubbed his palms over his face.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

I didn’t miss the slur in his voice. Obviously, he’d been drinking while at Finn’s mom’s house.

“Yeah, come on in.”

I pulled the door open for him and stepped to the side. Once I shut the door, he surprised me when he fell to his knees in front of me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and buried his face in my stomach.

“I’m so sorry, Little Bird.” His voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

I pushed against his shoulders so he’d look up at me and I could see his face. Tears filled his eyes before escaping down his cheeks.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d never seen a man cry before, and Chet was the last person I expected it from.

“What are you talking about, Chet? Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

I wiped his tears away with my thumbs before running my fingers across the stubble on his face.

“No.” He shook his head. “I should’ve been there. Why didn’t you tell me? I deserved to know about our daughter. Was I so bad, Hope? Was I terrible to you that night? Is that why you ran? Is that why you forgot about me?”

My body stiffened, and my breath lodged in my windpipe, as I choked on nothing.

“What?” The word was whispered and broken.

How could he have known about Angel?

How did he find out?

“I followed you today. I was worried when I came to your room, and Lena told me you left. I saw you at the cemetery, and when you left, I went to the grave to see who you were visiting.”

He bent his head down, his forehead resting against my stomach. His shoulders shook with his sobs, prompting me to hold him against me.

He knew. He’d seen her headstone and her name with his last name. And I knew what he was feeling since I’d been feeling it for the last four years of my life. Except for Chet, the hurt was fresh, and I could see it in his eyes when he looked up at me that he was broken on a whole new level.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and captured his cheeks in my palms.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was young and scared, but I never forgot about you, Chet. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you, but at the time, I didn’t know what to do. I should’ve told you. ” I felt tears sting my eyes.

“What happened to her? Did she suffer?”

I shook my head.

“No. She was born sleeping.” I sniffled. “She looked just like a tiny angel. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but I promise you she didn’t suffer.”

“I want to be mad at you because I missed it. I never got to see her. But I can’t be mad at you.” Another tear slid down his cheek.

“Of course, you can be mad at me, Chet. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t. I love you too much to be mad at you.”

He was drunk. I could tell by the way he was talking and the laziness in his eyes, but still, my heart skipped a beat at his words.

He leaned into me, his eyes drooping with sleep, and I shook him to keep him from passing out.

“Come on,” I said, tugging him into a standing position. “Let’s get you to bed before you pass out on the floor.”

He followed me to my bed before collapsing on the mattress. I untied his boots and pulled them off, tossing them in the corner. All the while, he lay there staring at the ceiling with a broken expression.

“You gave her my name,” he muttered.

I stood above him, looking down into his dark, sad eyes.

“I did. She’s your daughter.”

The side of his mouth tilted up into a sad smile.

“Thank you for that. Thank you for giving her my name.”

I nodded, not sure what to say and not sure if the words would even come out anyway.

I sat beside him on the bed and ran my fingers through his thick, wild locks while he stared up at me with stray tears slowly dripping down the sides of his face.

“You’re so beautiful, Hope. I’m so glad I found you.”

I smiled down at him, again unsure of how to respond. My fingers shifted through his hair, and he closed his eyes and sighed.

His palm settled over his heart, and he mumbled, “My little blackbirds.”

He wasn’t making any sense, but it wasn’t long until he passed out; his breathing evened out and his wounded expression relaxing and becoming peaceful.

I lay down beside him, stretching my body out against his side, and it was then that I noticed a bandage peeking out above the collar of his shirt. I tugged his collar down, exposing a spot on his chest covered with medical tape and a bandage.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I tugged at the edges of the bandage until I was able to see that he’d gotten a new tattoo right above his heart. Peeling the rest of the bandage away, I gasped when I saw the new artwork covering his skin.

He’d gotten a tattoo of a blackbird that was an exact match to my own. Beneath the blackbird was the exact date I had beneath mine … Angel’s birthday, and also the day she died. But his tattoo was slightly different from mine because beneath his date were two smaller blackbirds, both with their wings expanded like they were ready for flight.

I smiled down at his new ink since I understood it. He’d tattooed me, Angel, and the new baby on his chest.

His family.

Our family.

And I knew no matter if he was drunk or not, when he’d told me he loved me, he’d meant it.

Leaning over him, I pressed my lips against his, and he moaned sweetly in his sleep.

“I love you, too, Chet,” I whispered.

And as if he’d heard me, his mouth tilted up in a sleepy smile.

Hope was wrapped around me tightly, her face resting against my arm, and her soft breaths skimming the bare skin of my chest. At some point during the night, I’d lost my shirt, but I didn’t remember taking it off. The last thing I remembered was lying in bed with her and telling her she was beautiful.

My phone lit up when I pressed the button on the side, and when I saw that we still had two hours before we pulled out, I yawned and wrapped my arm around Hope, pulling her closer to me.

A migraine was ripping at my brain, but she looked too comfortable, and I didn’t want to move to take my pills and take the chance of waking her. Instead, I lay there while the beat of my heart smashed into my skull like usual.

I thought about the day before when I’d gone to the cemetery, and my heart sunk all over again. I closed my eyes, remembering going to the tattoo parlor before finding the closest bar and drinking myself stupid. I felt bad for skipping dinner at Finn’s mom’s house, but I’d texted him and let him know I wasn’t feeling great. Which, I wasn’t; it was just for much different reasons than my tumors.

Memories of our conversation moved through my aching head, and I smiled sadly. It was out in the open. Our past had caught up with both of us, and we’d talked it through. I was sure I needed to know much more, but because I’d decided to have the surgery, we’d have all the time in the world to get to know each other’s everything.

I wanted to know all about her. I wanted to know about her past—her parents—our daughter. I wanted to know what made her happy and what made her sad. And I smiled to myself knowing that regardless if I lost my eyesight or my ability to play the drums, I had time to find out all the things I wanted to know.

And then a specific memory struck me. I’d told Hope I loved her, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d told me she loved me, too.

My face ached as my smile grew. We had the real deal. I was as good as caught, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was pulling father duties like the guys and calling home to my wife because I missed her and the kids.

My future had never looked so bright, and my heart had never been so full of happiness.

It was real.

And it was mine for the taking.

I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from getting the life I never thought I’d have.

Hope moved, rolling onto her other side and turning her back to me. I leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, breathing her sweetness in and committing it to memory. Once the pain in my head grew, I climbed from the bed and went for my pain pills.

I was definitely having the surgery, and I didn’t want to wait any longer to call Doctor Patel. I wanted to get in and have the surgery done as soon as possible, so I could put it all behind me and start a new life with my girl, but the time difference meant the doctor’s office wasn’t open yet. As soon as it was, I was calling and scheduling the surgery.

I tossed two pills into the back of my throat and swallowed some water to wash them down. My stomach growled loudly, and I patted at my abs realizing I was freaking starving.

A tray sat next to the desk with leftovers, but I couldn’t remember eating anything. Again, my stomach growled, so I pulled my shirt over my head and adjusted my clothes.

There was a Starbucks across the street, and I knew Hope loved them since I’d seen her and the girls walking around with Starbucks cups throughout the entire tour.

I smiled to myself thinking about having coffee and muffins hot and ready for Hope when she woke. She had to eat and so did my baby. It was the least I could do since I’d come to her hotel room a hot mess and drunk off my ass.

I’d cried in front of her, which was something I’d promised myself I’d never do in front of another human being, but she held me and soothed the pain as much as possible considering.

We talked, and she’d opened up to me about Angel.

My mother was never nurturing, but I knew Hope was going to be an amazing mother. After the way she had taken care of me, I could only imagine how caring and loving she’d be toward our child.

So yes, my girl was getting coffee and muffins.

It was the least I could do for her.

I chuckled at myself for my thoughts. The man I was two months ago would have called me a kiss ass, and maybe I was, but at least the ass I was kissing was plump and gorgeous … at least that ass was mine.

I pulled on my boots and tied them before going to the bed and giving Hope a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, Little Bird,” I whispered against her skin.

As if she’d heard me, she moved in her sleep, and a tiny smiled pulled at her luscious lips.

I pushed a strand of purple from her eyes, grinned down at my girl, and walked away.

The hallway was empty, and when I pressed the button on the elevator, the door opened right away as if the lift was waiting for me.

There was a bakery in the lobby and the entire room smelled like fresh muffins, but I figured if I was already on the bottom floor, I might as well run across the street and get Starbucks since I knew she preferred that.

A few of the crew members were outside the hotel, and I nodded to them as I passed. Morning traffic was already lined down the street with people going to work and starting their day. Horns blew. Music blared from windows. And as I stepped from beneath the parking zone of the hotel, I slid my shades on to block out the early morning sun.

I waited for a car to pass and sprinted across three lanes between parked cars stuck in traffic to the concrete median. The other side of the street was going in the opposite direction, and the traffic wasn’t at a standstill.

Three cars passed, and when I saw my chance to run across the next three lanes, I took it. My boots thumped against the asphalt as I cut across the first lane and then the second. I was halfway across the third when a horn blew so loudly I paused long enough to see a truck that I hadn’t seen before coming directly at me.

The sound of his brakes filled the morning, and I moved to get out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough. A brick wall smashed into me, slamming into my side and tossing me into the air and onto the windshield of the truck.

The sound of glass smashing had sounded before I was tossed once again from the truck and back onto the asphalt. My back slammed onto the hard ground, my head snapping back and smashing into the blacktop making the world go black.

Everything dissolved into nothing.

All sound ceased to exist.

And I went away.

I was no more.