His (Hers #5) (3 page)

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Authors: Dawn Robertson

BOOK: His (Hers #5)
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“I need a couple days to get away from him being so overprotective. Work has been crazy. He’s always in my ear about eating this or not doing that and I’m on edge. I need a couple days of peace and quiet. Little did I know I would be dealing with doors slamming so early in the morning.” I try and sass her so she doesn’t realize I am really emotionally broken this time around. No need to worry the poor girl when she is pretty much living in an episode of Maury. She doesn’t need to tell me. Star has already filled me in.

“I’ll let this morning slide, but if you kids wanna argue, I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your own little shanty.” I laugh and pray for a couple more days of peace and quiet to sort out my own shit before I really lose my shit. Or have to finally turn around and go back to my life in Manhattan. I can’t hide out in Woodstock forever. No matter how appealing it may sound right now.

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing River again before you head back to Manhattan.” She lets out a sigh. It’s clear that Paisley is sad and I just want to give her a big hug and let her know that no matter what, everything will be okay in the end. I can’t promise it, but I want to. Holding up a roll of crackers, she offers me one.

“No food till this cup is finished. If I try and put food into my stomach too quickly, the baby rebels and everything comes back up. This kid is as much of a bitch as I am.” And that would be the fucking understatement of the century. I swear, every problem I read about in those pregnancy books Levi stocked up on, I have. Everything about my pregnancy is birth control enough to never do it again. I am half tempted to ask them to just remove my uterus when she comes out.

“So, do you know what you’re having yet?” Paisley asks. I hate to admit it, but it really is nice having a normal person to talk pregnancy and babies with. Everyone has been walking on eggshells around me, Levi included. It’s nice that I can have a simple conversation with someone.

“It’s a girl. I’m so fucked.” I laugh because it’s the truth. I may not have been that bad of a child, but then again, my parents wouldn’t have even realized if I was acting out because they were never around. “I hope she’s nothing like me. Or any of us.” Ain’t that an understatement for sure?

Dominatrix, porn stars, strippers, bikers… and a fuckin’ partridge in a pear tree. Unfortunately any child brought into our family is kinda fucked right off the bat. I should have done better to prevent this from happening from the get go, but I can’t imagine life any other way now.

“You know she’ll turn out nothing like any of us. Right, Seven?” I wish I could believe Paisley’s reassurance. Hell, when I think about it, I almost hope she becomes a nun.

“I still worry. Am I going to be a good mom? Or am I going to lose interest after a while like our parents did? I worry about that a lot. Levi doesn’t understand because he actually had good parents growing up. Parents who loved him and took care of him. Not leaving him to fend for himself and feed other siblings for days on end. We had it rough. We may not have realized it then, but Paisley… that shit was fucked up.”

I can’t imagine doing it to my own child and I think that is what I worry about the most. Hell, no normal person would have considered leaving their children the way our parents did. It’s just not right.

The stress of my upbringing and being a good parent has bothered me from the moment I got that positive pregnancy test. I know I can’t do this because no matter how fuckin’ tough I am to everyone else… I’m still that broken little girl my parents left behind. I don’t know what a good parent is. I don’t know how to do any of it and I am doomed to fail my own little girl. My heart starts beating faster and I can feel an anxiety attack coming on. I haven’t told anyone, but they have been plaguing me more than they ever have. Even when I was a teen.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Hell, I worry about this every day. I don’t even know who the father of my kid is, so that jut adds to the bullshit list to worry about.” Her words take me off guard.
What did she just say?

“What?” I ask in shock. Completely forgetting about all of my own bullshit and doubts.

“What, what?” Paisley replies with a deer in headlights look on her face.

“River isn’t the dad? I figured that’s why you guys were fighting.” I admit. No one said anything about paternity issues. Love triangles, hot men, unexpected pregnancies, yes… But paternity problems? Why the fuck was Star holding this one back on me? I thought we were past bullshit and secrets. But then again, this wasn’t her secret to tell.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, clearly uncomfortable to be talking about this at all. “He’s one of two possible dads. I don't know if you remember Diesel, but we had a little thing. I would have never hooked up with River if some shit between Diesel and I didn’t happen. Shit got all fucked up and I’m stupid, basically.” She laughs, but I don’t. My face is like stone as she pokes fun at herself to try and feel better about the situation she’s gotten herself into.

I guess I can’t be much of a judge though. My life isn’t all fuckin’ roses and kittens. “Long story short, we’re going to have a paternity test performed in a couple weeks to figure all this shit out so we can move on with our lives.” She waves her hands in the air and ends with them rubbing her swelling belly.

“I thought I had shit bad. Jesus, Paisley. As if you haven’t been though enough already.” The rape, the abortion, the time she spent at my house. The hours I held her while she cried about being brutalized only to be forced to kill her own baby. I can’t even imagine how she is feeling about being pregnant again, especially given the circumstances. I have to hand it to her, she is far more put together than I am. Or will ever be. She may have a shack her sister pays for and no pot to piss in… but I would trade all my fancy bullshit to have the emotional strength this girl possesses. Because right now, I desperately fucking need it.

We sit in the kitchen and talk about everything from prenatal care to designer diaper bags. I feel like a diva at times, only because I want the best for my daughter. Maybe if I shower her with expensive shit, she won’t end up half as fucked up as we all did.

Paisley eventually leaves for work and I try and relax some. The house is quiet and after the girls are out of school, River takes them to the motel to help out and do their homework. Giving me a tad bit more quiet time.

I thought I wanted quiet. I thought I needed the peace of mind, but the day only made me realize that when the house is empty and I have the time I was begging for… my mind races. It plays tricks on me. The voices in my head spell out just how many times I fucked up. Where I went wrong along the way with myself and with Levi. The bumps in the road I caused because I just didn’t know any better. The way he tried to repair all my potholes because that is just what he does. He is a fixer. I only wish that he could fix me the way I desperately need him to.

I thought my day would be quiet and relaxing. That was until
he
showed up and turned my quiet week of rest and relaxation upside down. Nothing good ever happens in Woodstock and I should have realized that a long time ago.

There aren’t many people in this world I hate. Zane just happens to be the number one person on my fucking hit list. And when he strolled into my best friend’s home, uninvited, without a care in the world…shit got real.

One thing I learned as a little girl in the fucked up nomad community we lived in was to be quiet. Very fucking quiet. Hiding wasn’t a game to us. It was survival. Being able to vanish when one of those nasty old men came sniffing around is what kept me from their molesting hands. As I sit crouched behind the couch watching and listening to his heavy boots cross the floor into the kitchen, I let out a sigh and try to form a plan in my head. It may not be the most well thought out plan, or the smartest, but it won’t be long before he realizes he isn’t alone. My eyes search around the room looking for anything I can use to take him out. He is careless since he
thinks
he is alone.

I rub my belly and think about my daughter and my blood boils. What that man did to Paisley… what if that had been my little girl? What if he got his hands on my baby girl one day? No fuckin’ way could a man like that walk around on this planet. He doesn’t deserve to live. Someone that cold and careless is a danger to everyone around him. Not just my own family.

That’s when I notice the baseball bat leaning against the back door, propping the door closed because the lock was busted. Gotta love Star and her lack of do-it-yourself skills. But, I am insanely thankful at the same time. I tiptoe quietly across the room and grab the bat making my way to the kitchen. Just as I take my last step to grasp the bat, the aged floor in Star’s old farm house creeks giving me away. Except instead of looking in my direction, he looks into the living room first.

His back is still to me, which buys me a few extra seconds. He is chewing loudly like a fucking dog, and that sets my nerves off. The sound reminds me of someone from my childhood, I don’t try and wrack my brain remembering who, though. I raise the bat like I was up to bat for the Red Sox in the World Series. Two more steps and I take my swing.

CRACK! The echo of breaking bone echoes through the kitchen and living room. It should bother me. I should cringe at the sound. But I don’t. It doesn’t bother me one bit.

Blood splatters and he goes down like a fuckin’ sack of potatoes in a loud thud. I stand over his limp body and spit on him. I don’t do it for my own satisfaction. I do it for Paisley because, if I were her, that would be the first thing I would do to this man.

I realize then my poor planning, because there is no way I can move this guy. Not safely without hurting myself or my daughter. I can’t tie him up. I can’t restrain him and eventually he’s going to wake up because he’s still breathing. Blood continues to pour all over Star’s kitchen floor and I silently start to panic. My heart is thumping in my ears and I start pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor.

Blood covers the bottom of my bare feet and I just keep tracking it all around the house. My mind is blank. I have no idea what to do. I have no idea what I just did. I am pretty much fucked.

Something shifts inside of me. Maybe it’s my fight or flight instincts. Or maybe it’s just my sanity returning since fuckin’ normal people don’t attack people with baseball bats, but I come back to my senses and try to clean up the bloody mess all over my best friend’s floor.

“Fuck! What am I gonna do?” I ask myself. No one is around to help. I run into the bathroom and pull out all the dark colored towels I can find. As I clean up the blood splatters all over the floor and cabinets, I notice a list of telephone numbers stuck to the refrigerator by a magnet. It is clearly some kind of emergency phone number list left behind for the girls in case they ever need help. Scanning it quickly, I pick out Diesel’s name and run for my phone that I’d left behind somewhere in the living room; the same phone I haven’t turned on in days.

He answers on the second ring.

“Diesel? Seven James here. I need you at Star’s house immediately. There’s no time to waste. It’s an emergency involving Paisley.” Throwing her name into the mix was the only thing I could do. I know he will drop everything and run because he will think something is wrong with the baby she is carrying. The baby that very well could be his. I know that makes me a shitty person but I don’t have any time to waste. I don’t even want to think what would happen if Zane woke up.

I continue to pace and think about ways to clean up blood. It’s something I’ve never had to do before in my life. My breathing quickens and the room starts to become blurry. Another anxiety attack is closing in on me and this time, I’m grateful I don’t pass out and join this piece of shit on the kitchen floor.

Trying to calm myself, I sit down in the corner. I’m far enough away from his unconscious body but close enough to keep a watchful eye on him until my savior gets here. I focus on my breathing and hope all the internet articles I read about anxiety attacks actually help. This isn’t right, but I don’t know how else to deal with the issue I’ve been having.

What seems like an eternity later, I hear the front door open and close. Diesel’s steps echo through the first floor of the house, and I yelp from the kitchen for his help. When he rounds the corner his eyes go wide as he sees Zane lying lifeless on the floor.

“Who did this?” he asks while running his hand through his hair. His action reminds me of Levi, but I have to push him from my mind right now. There is no way I can even think about my husband who left me while I try and figure out what the hell I am going to do with the newest mess I’ve gotten myself into.

“I did. And I would fuckin’ do it again for what he did to Paisley. Now help me tie him up and get him into the basement before he wakes up!” I’m frantic. Yelling and waving my hands around while Diesel calmly evaluates the situation he just encountered.

“Does anyone know he is here?” His cool and calm tone sends goosebumps across my skin. He’s just as cold and calculating as I am.

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