Hell Bent (Rock Bottom #1) (23 page)

This is the second time in the past few months that I have sat outside someone’s house, unsure if I actually want to go through with knocking on the door. The last time didn’t have the outcome I desired, and I can only imagine what Greg is going to say if he opens the door. At least with him I sort of know what to expect unlike with my mother. Steeling my nerves, I climb out of the truck and keep my head held high while walking to his door. It takes so long between when I knock and when he finally answers the door that I almost give up and leave. Finally, the door creaks open, and Greg leans his shoulder against the doorframe.

“Hey.” He lifts his chin as he speaks. 

Blowing out a breath, I meet his eyes. “Can we talk?”

“Because that worked out so well for us last time.”

The joking tone in his voice catches me off-guard, making me laugh. It eases a bit of the tension between us which I believe might make this conversation a bit easier.

“As long as you don’t call me a whore again I think we’ll be fine.”

“Well, as long as you don’t send someone over here to beat my ass again, I don’t think we’ll have an issue.”

“I didn’t send him last time,” I defend myself with a shrug. “But deal.” 

I can do this
, I tell myself. If we can keep up the niceness like this, I think everything will be fine. I knew that there was a decent part of him in there somewhere. Even drunk I don’t for a second believe that I would end up in bed with a
total
douchebag.

Greg closes the door behind us and heads toward the kitchen. The way he busies himself tells me he’s nervous which makes me laugh.

“Have a seat. Do you want something to drink? Can I get you anything?”

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I point at the chair across from me. “I’m already sitting, water would be great, and you can sit down so we can talk.”

Thankfully, years of working through meltdowns of celebrities puts this to shame, so I don’t have an issue calming him down despite how awkward this situation is for me.

After grabbing a glass of water, Greg lowers himself to the seat across from me. His eyes stay on his hands as his fingers drum rapidly. Taking a deep breath, I lay my hand over his, stopping his movement.

“How are you?”

Leaning back in the chair, I take a sip of water and meet his eyes. “Tired and stressed out. My back hurts. My feet are swollen. I waddle like a turkey, and my skin itches because it’s stretched so far. You?” A sarcastic smile tips my lips.

Shrugging, he lets the conversation fall flat, and the silence stretches between us.

“Do you hate me?” he asks suddenly, shocking me.

Shaking my head, I tell him the truth. “You’re not particularly my favorite person after the last time we talked, but no. No, I don’t hate you, Greg.” 

A wave of relief washes over him when I answer his question. “I didn’t mean the shit I said the last time I saw you. I was just sort of…freaking out.”

“I was too.” I shrug. “I still am.”

He pauses for a second, avoiding looking me in the eyes. “The whole reason you ended up in the hospital, the drugs and alcohol, do you wonder if it’s going to affect it?” 

My mouth falls open at his questions, but I quickly snap it shut “It? Do you mean, do I wonder if I’ve totally fucked up my kid’s life? Yes,” I tell him honestly. Closing my eyes, I try to push out the nightmare I have almost every night now that I’m closer to actually holding this kid in my arms. “Every second of every day I wonder if I’ve totally screwed any chances this poor kid had at a normal life.” 

“The things I said, I didn’t mean them,” he says again. “You’re not a whore, but I
am
an asshole. But I know that it will be better off without me, and I think that’s why I was so quick to piss you off and push you away. I’m not ready to be a parent, Izzy, I don’t think I ever will be.”

“You keep saying
it
, like the baby is an alien.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what
it
is.

“
It
is a boy.” As I speak, I can’t stop the smile that spreads every time I think about him. Sitting here staring at the other half of my baby’s genes has me wondering now more than ever what he is going to look like. Is he going to have Greg’s brown eyes, or my blue? His black hair, or my blonde? We’re so different I can’t even begin to imagine.

“A boy. Holy shit.”

I chuckle. “That was pretty much my main thought for the past few months.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Dalton Alexander.”

He narrows his eyes as humor fills them. “What? You’re not going to name him something weird like Banana or Sperm Whale? Isn’t that a typical celebrity thing now? You could always name him after Bennett’s old band and call him Moist Wood. He could be nicknamed mini-moist.”

I bark out a laugh as the rest of my tension leaves my body, making his smile grow. “Not in my world.”

“So are you going to tell me why you showed up out of the blue after all this time, or are you going to sit here and pretend that everything is normal and we’re the best of friends?”

Hello, tension, welcome back.

“I did have a reason to come, but I don’t want to upset you.”

“Iz, just spit it out. I don’t think anything you can say will shock me more than ‘Hey, I’m pregnant with your kid’.”

“Just spit it out,” I repeat. “Um, I… I just…Uh.” I clear my throat. “I want to know if you’ll sign over parental rights so Bennett can legally be Dalton’s father.”

“Sure,” he says, shrugging.

That was too easy.

“Sure? Just like that? You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to, I’m OK with it. I already told you that I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to be a parent, but Bennett is; he always has been. If it were anyone else, I would probably hesitate, but I know Bennett. I trust him, despite the fact that he beat the shit out of me.”

“You deserved that,” I mumble with a smile.

“I did,” he agrees. “I’ll give you that. But I hope this makes up for it.”

“Greg, this means more than anything you could ever possibly do. As long as you don’t change your mind down the road.”

“Believe me, fucking up a kid’s life is not something I want to do. Unless the kid comes to me directly and asks, I won’t interfere. Even if that happens, I’ll talk to you first.”

Pushing to my feet, it suddenly feels like my stomach is being tied into a knot. The skin becomes tight, and all I can think about is this kid trying to claw his way out because he’s pissed off. 

“You OK?” Greg asks, standing up so he can get closer and check on me. I wave him off.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” I lie as I breathe through the pain. I’m anything but fucking fine. This hurts, it really,
really
fucking hurts. The doctors told me that Braxton Hicks were supposed to prepare me for this shit. They lied. 

“Should I call Bennett? I mean, I doubt he’d answer my call, but I could call him for you from your phone.”

“No. No, don’t call him. He’s busy.” I wave him off, and as soon as the pain subsides, I stand up and grab my stuff. I’m not sure how, but I know I need to get going, and it needs to be now.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m OK. I’ll call you and let you know when you can go to the courthouse and sign the papers.”

I reach for the door handle, but his voice stops me again.

“Hey, Izzy?” I turn to look back at him. “If you ever need anything…”

“Thanks, but you signing those papers is more than I could ever thank you for.”

Grabbing my phone after climbing into the truck, I find Willow’s name and call her. Two rings, and she picks right up. 

“Hey, what’s up? Is everything OK?”

“I don’t think so, Will—” my words are cut short by another contraction, and the strangled sound that comes out of my mouth scares even me.

“Izzy? Are you in labor?”

“I think so,” I cry, squeezing the steering wheel as tightly as I can.

“Where are you?” she asks, trying to mask the panic in her voice, but I know her, and she can’t hide it from me.

I sob. Why didn’t I have someone come with me? “Greg’s.”

For a second, there is silence, and I know she is mentally yelling at me for coming here period. “I don’t remember where that is, Izzy. Give me the address.”

I open my mouth to tell her when my driver’s side door is pulled open and the phone is taken from me by Greg.

“Bennett?” he asks. “Oh, Willow. OK. I’m taking her to Nash. Gen. meet us there.” He doesn’t ask permission to take me, he simply tells her what he is going to do and hangs up the phone. “Slide over, Iz.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Are you gonna drive yourself? I don’t think so. I might be giving you permission to let Bennett be the kid’s dad, but that doesn’t make me a deadbeat asshole. Move over, I’m driving you.”

As soon as the contraction ends, I slide over to the passenger side, thankful that I decided to drive the truck today so I don’t have to climb over the console or get out and go around. Before he pulls out into traffic, he dials another number.

“Bennett. No, stop screaming at me. Yes, she’s with me. Yes, she’s fine, well…kinda.” I hate one-sided conversations and contemplate reaching over and grabbing the phone so I can put it on speaker, but I refrain. “She told me not to bother you, but I’m pretty sure she’s in labor, so I’m taking her to the hospital. Yeah, that one. All right, we’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

Tossing my phone back at me, he pays attention to the road, asking me how I’m doing every few minutes. In the course of the ten minutes it takes to get to the hospital, I have two more contractions and am working on a third. Greg pulls up to the emergency entrance and throws the truck in park. After helping me out and into a wheelchair, he rushes me inside and yells at one of the nurses, telling her what’s going on. It isn’t long after they get me checked in that a nurse comes in and Bennett comes rushing through the door behind her. He looks around awkwardly, his eyes darting between Greg and me before landing back on me.

“Are you the father?” the nurse asks, directing the question at Greg.
Oh, fuck...

As if he suddenly notices that he has ahold of my hand, giving me something to squeeze, he drops it. Shaking his head, he smiles and points at Bennett. “No, he is. I just brought her in because he was at work.”

Both of our mouths drop, and I want to ask questions, but I don’t dare to with the nurse here. Motioning for Bennett to come over, Greg grips his shoulder. A silent conversation happens between the two of them, and I don’t even want to begin to try to translate what it is. 

After taking my vitals, the nurse tells me that the doctor will be in to check on me in a few minutes and disappears. Bennett dips down to kiss me, and unlike his normal kiss, it’s soft—worried. Resting his forehead against mine, he stares into my eyes as his hand sweeps over my stomach. For a moment, both of us forget that Greg is still in the room.

“How are you?” he asks instead of asking the actual question that he wants to know. 

“Scared,” I whisper back. It’s the truth. I’ve never been so scared in my life. After this I’ll be responsible for someone else’s life, and the closer we get, the more that fact sinks in.

Standing up, he finally focuses on Greg. I squeeze his hand. I’m not sure if there’s going to be a fight between them, but it’s the last thing that needs to happen. I want to tell him what Greg said, but I don’t have a chance. The doctor comes in followed by Abby and the rest of my family. No one but Willow knows who Greg is, so he slips out past them all unscathed. All the guys have been itching to get their hands on him, but now I wouldn’t allow it. Telling me he’ll be right back, Bennett rushes after him, leaving me in an extremely-crowded and excessively-loud room for a second before he’s back at my side and kicking everyone out.

Shifting gently on the bed, I do my best not to wake Izzy back up, but I have no such luck. Although, I doubt she was actually asleep anyway. Her hand grips mine tighter as I kiss the top of her head, but she never takes her eyes off the baby laying on her chest. This moment—this exact one right here—is something I never thought I would have. It’s something I never thought I would want, but now that it’s here, I don’t know how I went so long without it. He’s absolutely the most perfect thing I have ever seen.