Hell Bent (Rock Bottom #1) (13 page)

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Authors: Katheryn Kiden

BOOK: Hell Bent (Rock Bottom #1)
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Shifting until I’m free, I leave a finally-sleeping Bennett in my bed and head toward the bathroom. We spent hours last night talking until we both fell asleep. He’s the first person other than Willow that I’ve actually talk to about anything that has happened. He didn’t tell me to grow up, or get up and walk out on me. He listened and told me that I would only get the answers I want by going and finding out why my mother actually left. He’s right. He’s also the only person so far encouraging me to figure out what happened.

Checking myself in the mirror I realize how shitty I look after crying most of the night and not taking my makeup off first. I quickly wash my face and head back toward the bedroom but get sidetracked when I see Willow in the living room.

Leaning against the wall, I wait for her to notice me, but she continues to absentmindedly flip through the channels on the television. I know she isn’t paying attention to what is on the screen. I can tell she’s lost in her head.

Nothing new there.

“What the hell are you doing up at four in the morning?”

“My roommate’s a slut,” she mutters, trying to bite back a smile. Finally taking her eyes off the television, she turns her attention to me and I see the humor filling her eyes. I’ll take it. Anything is better than the terrifyingly empty look that was there a minute ago.

“Bitch.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I figured you’d be so worn out that you’d sleep until noon.”

I feel the heat creep into my face as her words make me blush. After talking half the night, Bennett proved to me how much he really did want me. Twice. I thought I was quiet, but I guess I was wrong.

“Had to pee,” I tell her, dropping onto the couch beside her.

“Not even born yet and the kid’s already wrecking your sleep habits.”

My hands fall to my stomach and I rub gently. “It’s OK. It’s not like I’ve ever slept much anyway. It’s better than constantly thinking I’m going to throw up, so I’ll take it.”

For a few minutes, we’re silent, both of us letting ourselves get lost in a random episode of
Two Broke Girls
that she stopped on.

“You like him, don’t you?” Willow finally asks. She doesn’t look at me, and it makes me wonder how she’s going to react to my answer. For so long it’s been just us. Us against the world. Us against our families. I didn’t think anything like a baby or Bennett would happen this soon after moving in with her, and it throws a wrench into our plans.

“Yeah, I do.” Spinning in my seat, I tuck my knees under me and watch her. “Is that weird?”

Her eyes narrow as she pulls her attention from the show. “Why would that be weird?”

My answers make me feel nervous and idiotic at the same time. She waits me out without trying to force an answer out of me.

“He’s ten years older than I am, I’m technically his boss, and I don’t want it to fuck up stuff with us.”

“Izzy.” She shakes her head and laughs. “You can’t live your life for other people. Sadly, not even me. As for him being older than you, age is just a number. You don’t act like a teenager. Minus the past few months, you never really have.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that he’s signed to my label. It’s not right.”

“Producers and label heads fuck the talent all the time.”

“I don’t want to be a cliché. I don’t want to tarnish the company like that.”

I expect her to tell me I’m an idiot and remind me of every relationship that turned to marriage in the company, but she doesn’t. 

Standing, Willow stretches her arms over her head and yawns. “Then don’t just fuck him. Let yourself feel something other than pain. If you get your heart broken down the road, you get your heart broken. But you deserve to be happy. Someone should be. You’ve already let him in, let him love you too.”

“Willow,” I call out quietly when she starts to walk toward her room. She stops but doesn’t turn back around. “You deserve to be happy too, you know.”

She stays silent, but I know she heard me because her shoulders slouch. She doesn’t believe it; she never has. Sooner or later, I will drill the fact that what happened to her years ago really wasn’t her fault. Every time I think we’re close to her realizing it, she retreats back into herself and closes off the world.

I finish up the episode playing as I think about everything she said to me. How can she believe that everyone in the world deserves to be happy except her? Maybe she’s right, though. Maybe I should see where things go. Then she might figure out that she can have it too.

Shutting the television and living room light off, I head back down to my room and slip back into bed. Bennett stirs when I settle beside him even though I tried not to wake him up. Reaching out, he pulls me against him and sighs contently.

“Everything OK?” he asks sleepily.

I nod, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Everything is going to be OK.” 

I pull the truck over to the side of the road just shy of the address on the paper next to me. How the hell has she been barely three hours away from me all this time and I didn’t know it? I’m close enough to see her house, and that scares the hell out of me. As much as I didn’t want to come alone, I knew I had to. I can’t always have someone holding my hand. Every question that I had wondered about since I found out she was still alive comes rushing back and hits me full force. The only one that really matters now, though, is if I really want to know the answers to everything else.

For a while, I do nothing but sit and stare at her house with my hand on the door handle and watch everything around it. From the way the slightly-too-tall grass blows in the wind, to the way the washed-out picket fence doesn’t sit quite straight anymore. There’s a swing set toward the back of the house with a little girl swinging on it. Which, to be perfectly honest, pisses me off.

I give up watching the house for a minute and drop my head against the steering wheel. How could someone give away a kid—just up and walk away without a second thought—only to turn around and have a family later on down the road. Would I have made her life that bad back then? My hands drop to my constantly growing stomach and I promise myself that no matter how hard it gets I will never make my child feel like this.

A sharp tap on the window next to my head has me shooting up and staring into eyes that look exactly like mine, only older and dulled out. I always thought I looked like my father, but there’s no denying that there is part of her in me. I can barely breathe as she crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head toward the house. She doesn’t wait for me to say anything, just turns away and expects me to follow her I guess.

Cara, my mother, disappears into the house, leaving the door open, and I slip out of the truck slowly. After pulling my shirt back down over my stomach I walk slowly to the house. This probably wasn’t the best thing to do while I’m pregnant and hormonal, but the past few months have been nothing but mistakes, why not add one more?

“I left the door open so you could come in, not stand there like a Girl Scout waitin’ for a cookie sale.”

As soon as I step through the door and close it behind me, I’m assaulted by the overwhelming scent of cigarette smoke. I force back the need to gag and vomit and follow the sound of her nasty smoker’s hack into the kitchen. She points to an empty chair and sits down on the opposite side of the table. I don’t take the seat she offers. I think since I feel like running away at the moment, standing is best.

“How’d you know who I was?” My voice is so low that I have to clear my throat and repeat myself.

With one side of her face scrunched up, trying to avoid getting smoke in her eye, she laughs. “Honey, your father had that truck when we dated. Same stupid bumper stickers too. He said he’d never get rid of the damn thing. Kind of shocks me that he’s even lettin’ you drive it. It was his baby. Well, until you showed up that is.”

My eyes widen at her comment, and she raises her eyebrow. It’s been over ten years.
How does she not know?

“It’s been long enough. I figured you would’ve come to find me a lot soon than this, but I guess I can see why you did it now.” Her eyes drop to my obviously pregnant belly, and the corners of her mouth perk up.

My hands shoot out to protectively cover my stomach. “I didn’t come because I’m pregnant. I came because I just found out about you and wanted some answers.”

“Hell, I figured your daddy would have been tellin’ you all about how much of a bitch I was before now. Figured he would teach you all the bad things about me while you were growin’ up to keep you from makin’ the same mistakes I did.”

“No.” I shake my head. “He never said anything bad about you. It’s hard to say bad things about a woman who he claimed was dead for eighteen years, though.”

She takes a drag off the cigarette and ignores my comment and the snide tone in my voice. “Why are you here now?”

Before I have a chance to say anything, the little girl from the swing outside comes running into the kitchen. 

“Mama! Mama! Cody will be home from school soon!” The little girl, who can’t be more than four or five, peeks at me from under her lashes. I try to smile, but my face feels like it’s full of lead, and none of my muscles want to cooperate with my mind.

Cara shoos the little girl back outside, telling her she will be out in a few minutes, and turns her attention back to me. 

“Good to know you don’t just pop out kids and walk away from them. Well, all of them, anyway.”

She rolls her eyes and lights another cigarette. “Don’t be bitter. It’s not a good look on you, honey.”

“Why me?” I ask, batting my eyes to keep the tears back. “Why did you choose to leave me, and keep them?”

She sighs and stands up to watch the little girl through the kitchen window. “I was sixteen, I didn’t wanna be a parent, but your father convinced me not to get an abortion like I wanted to. I begged and begged, but him and my parents wouldn’t let me. I wasn’t ready for a kid, and I knew your father wasn’t going anywhere in life. I didn’t want to be stuck my entire life, and if I had stayed with Alex Jenkins, I would have been.”

A dry laugh escapes my mouth before I can think about covering it up. It’s better than crying. I’m so sick of tears. “You think if you had stuck it out with me and my dad, that you would have been, what… stuck in a rundown house, chain smoking with a bunch of kids in the yard? Have you looked around? Because that’s exactly what you got. What you would have gotten if you had been
stuck
with us, is more money than you would know what to do with.”

“Girl, what the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Izzy, my name is Izzy. You know, just in case you didn’t stick around long enough to learn it. And I’ve never known my dad as Alex Jenkins. He must have changed his name after you left because he’s always been Alex Irons to me.”

I stand there silently as what I said sinks in, and her eyes widen as she recognizes the name and starts to stammer. I raise my hand to cut her off from talking and shrug.

“That’s all I wanted to know. Just needed to know why you didn’t want me, because I don’t want to have any doubts about myself when this baby comes into my world. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to be anything like you.”

“You can think you aren’t like me all you want. But that bump you keep tryin’ to cover proves that you are turnin’ out just like me whether you like it or not. I bet your daddy isn’t too happy with your pregnant ass right now.”

I had already started to turn around when she makes the comment and I make myself turn back to face her. “You keep making these comments about him, but how the hell would you know? You didn’t stick around to know if he would be a good father or not. But for the record, he
was
one hell of a father and a hell of a better mother than you could ever think of being. I know if he were still here, he would support the decisions I make in my life even if he didn’t like them, because that is what a good parent does.”

I swear there are tears in her eyes when I get through yelling at her, but I don’t stick around to see if they fall. Instead, I storm out of the house, slamming the door on my way out, and practically sprint to my truck. 

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