Resisting Roots (Lotus House Book 1) (20 page)

Amber grabbed both of my hands and held them between us. “Anything. You know you can tell me anything. We’ve been best friends our whole lives. No matter what. Promise.” She leaned down and kissed the top of both of my hands. “Now tell me. You’re scaring the bejeezus out of me.”

I inhaled deep, two full breaths, and then ripped off the Band-Aid. “Amber, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad…see… You’ll bounce back. Wait…
what
?” She crushed my hands in a fierce grip.

“You’re hurting me!” I yanked my hands back.

Emotions surged over Amber’s face like a tsunami wave crashing against a barren shore. Shock. Happiness. Confusion. Fear. And then…anger. She stood, put her hands on her hips, and started pacing. “That low-down, rotten, dirty, filthy mongrel! I can
not
believe this. He got you pregnant and then cheated! What a jerk. Well, you know what?” She turned around, hands on her hips in a girl-next-door version of the Wonder Woman stance. “You’re going to take his booty to the cleaners. You said he’s über rich right?”

“Yeah, but…”

She shook her head and sliced the air with her hand. “I’m so tired of men taking advantage of kind women. If we have to, we’ll get a paternity test. Show them exactly who fathered this angel baby. My God…” She ran her hands through her hair. “This is crazy. Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”

I shrugged. “I’m fine. The baby is six weeks and four days…well, five days now. The heartbeat looked good. Was really fast.” I swallowed. “Would you like to see?” I wanted to show someone the little peanut inside of me.

“Heck, yeah, I want to see. I’ve got best auntie status no matter what. And just think, down the road, I’ll be able to take care of the little guy or girl.” She smiled.

I pulled her into my arms. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me. For not judging me.” I sniffed. I didn’t want the tears to come back again.

Amber held me tight. “Honey, I’d never judge you. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I judge those who choose to have sex. And I definitely don’t judge you for getting pregnant. Things happen in the spur of the moment. I get that. I’m just worried about you.”

I let out the breath I was holding. “I’m worried about me, too. This is a huge wrench in the five-year plan. And I’d just gotten back into the swing of things with the house, bills, and my coursework I’m supposed to start next month. I can’t do that now. Using his money…ugh.”

Lying back down on the bed, I rubbed at my stomach. The tension in my limbs made my entire body feel like a bundle of exposed nerve endings. Everything hurt.

Amber lay down beside me. “I promise to be there for you and the little one,” she said and crossed her heart.

The tears came back with a vengeance and slipped down my cheeks. “I promise to let you be there, and to ask for help when I need it.” I crossed my own heart.

“I love you, Vivvie. You’re the sister I never had.”

“You’re the sister from a different mister, Amber.”

She snorted and giggled. Lying there with my best friend, I accepted that this was part of my fate, part of God’s plan. Why he had to be so cruel, I didn’t know. At least, through all of it, I had the love of my sister and brother and my best friend. I had thought at one point that Trent and his family would be part of that, and I guessed they would be eventually, only in a different capacity.

I rubbed my belly, settling the ache deep inside that stemmed more from the fissure in my heart than from the little life growing inside me.

“
W
ake up
, you sorry piece of shit!” came a booming voice directly over my face. Raindrops sprinkled against my skin, droplets pooling at the corner of each eye.

Was I outside?

I blinked a few times, attempting to open my eyes. The room was so bright, as if a flashlight shining were directly into my eyes. Shading the light with my hand, I tried to sit up. The room spun, and my head ached like I’d been in a fight and lost. Big time.

“Dude, get up. It’s three in the afternoon. Someone has some serious groveling to do.”

I recognized that voice.

“Clay?” My voice sounded thin and hoarse, like my vocal cords had been put through a meat grinder.

“Yeah, man, get up.” The bed shook around me. “Jesus, you are a lightweight!”

He continued to move the bed, and if he kept it up, I’d hurl all over him. Serve him right for waking my ass up when I felt like garbage.

“Dude, fuck off! I need sleep. Shit, where’s Genevieve? My gumdrop will make it all better,” I mumbled, turned over, and rubbed my face into a pillow that smelled of Tide, not like lemon body wash. If I could have coordinated my brain cells enough to move the muscles in my face, I’d have pouted. “Have my girl make me something to soak up the shit rolling in my stomach, will ya?”

No answer came.

“Where is she anyway?” I opened an eye and glanced at the room.

Clay’s face appeared sideways and level with the bed. “She’s not here. You’re at your apartment. We cabbed it here and crashed on the couch. Don’t you remember anything about last night?”

The act of thinking made my head pound like a drum in a marching band. Flashes of the night before started to stream into my conscious state.

DawnMarie leaning her fake tits into my chest and licking up the side of my neck.

Genevieve screaming.

I can’t believe you.

You lying, cheating piece of work!

Liquid pouring over my head.

I’m nothing to you. Nothing but the woman whose heart you broke.

Pregnant with your baby.

The world spinning and going black.

“Shit, Clay. I am so screwed.” I rubbed a hand over my face, desperately trying to clear the fog.

Clay sat down on the bed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Yes. Yes, you are. Shall we go grovel?”

“Fuck, yeah.” I rubbed my fists into my eye sockets and down my face again, the night’s scruff prickling against my palm. A foul odor reached my nostrils as I lifted my arm. Turning my head, I sniffed my underarm and got a rank whiff of beer and tequila. “First, I need to shower.”

“
O
pen up
! I know you’re in there,” I hollered at the heavy wooden door to Genevieve’s Berkeley home.

Finally, the door opened, and I was face-to-face with a tall brunette. Pretty, but plain, nothing like my blond fireball.

“Didn’t you get the hint after the first twenty knocks that your presence is unwanted?” She blinked and smiled snidely.

“No. I need to talk to Genevieve.”

The brunette shook her head. “So you’re the two-timing baseball-playing rich guy who got my best friend pregnant and cheated on her at the first opportunity. Yeah, she’s got absolutely nothing to say to you. Take a hike.”

I groaned and shuffled my feet, itching to bust through the door. My gumdrop was hurting and in that house, and I needed to fix it.

“But I need to talk to her. And I didn’t cheat!”

She jerked her head back. “Really? Kissing some bimbo and allowing her to grind all up on your junk while sitting in your lap, in a public place, while your pregnant girlfriend frets at home waiting to tell you she’s having your baby may not be considered cheating to you”—she pointed an accusing finger—“but to the rest of the world, I assure you, it’s cheating. Now”—this time, she waved at me in dismissal—“carry on with your day. We’ll have our lawyers get in touch with you about child support and the like when the time is right.”

“Child support? Fuck that!” I growled through clenched teeth, anger spiking fiery hot down my spine.

“Oh, you’re not gonna pay? We’ll see about that.” Her innocence seemed to slip right off her face as quickly as I could snap my finger. “Paternity tests will prove…”

“I’m not denying the baby is mine!” I snarled. “I’m denying that she’ll need an attorney. I’m going to be there, right next to her for every second of this pregnancy, and lying in her bed.” I pointed up at the top floor of the house.

The woman in the doorway huffed and put a hand to her chest. “You’re delusional if you think you’re going to get her to see you as anything other than a lying cheater.” Her words held such disdain they almost burned the edges of my skin.

I groaned and took a harsh breath. “Look, lady…”

“Amber.” Bitter contempt filled every letter of her name when she spoke.

“Amber, right. The best friend. Yeah, she told me about you. I’d looked forward to meeting you, but we always missed each other, you being away at your internship and all the last couple months. Anyway, I need to talk to her. There are things I need to say.”

Amber smiled a placating smile that didn’t show her teeth—a gesture someone gave a person who was spoiling his day with a load of bullshit. And I was that guy. The guy who’d earned that gesture. Fuck. There was no way I was going to get through to her best friend. I’d have to try something else.

“Afraid that’s not going to happen any time soon. Genevieve needs some time. She’s got a lot on her plate, as you know, and this new development? Well, that’s going to take some getting used to. I suggest you give it a bit. Wait for her to contact you.”

“Yeah, okay. Fine. Just tell her I stopped by and to call me.” I gave her the most pleading puppy-dog look in my arsenal.

T
wo weeks went by
. Two long, fucking weeks of absolutely no contact with Genevieve. I’d called, texted, stopped by every day. The yoga studio wouldn’t even allow me to enter past the main door. This angelic woman around my mother’s age named Crystal came out after I’d yelled the house down. Yogis didn’t like people raising their voices and screeching in their lobby when people were trying to find their Zen spot. Crystal, who apparently owned the joint, offered me a full refund. Turned out that when a person screwed over one of their own, they did not react kindly to that and made it clear I was not welcome in their establishment at that time.

Out of ideas, I went to her house and sat on her stoop. Two hours passed before the Mustang pulled up and into the drive. I rushed over to the garage and waited as Rowan came out.

The second he saw me, he scowled. That was not a good sign.

“What do you want, Trent?” He tried to pass by me quickly, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“I need to talk to your sister, man.”

He made a noise between a scoff and a gag. “For what reason? To make her cry some more? Because that’s all she does. That and vomit. Whatever you did to her broke her heart. Usually, when a guy breaks a girl’s heart and still wants her back, it’s because he cheated. Is that what happened?” His eyes were hard.

“It wasn’t like that…”

He pushed past me, shaking his head. “I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to us. The great Trent Fox.” He held his hands out wide. “Best hitter in all of baseball. Now you’re just a prick who ruined my sister. Leave us alone. And better yet”—he walked back over to me and slammed a set of keys into my hand—“take the car on your way out. I don’t want anything from someone who’d hurt my sister just to get in her panties. I hope the next woman you bed gives you an STD.”

Then he was gone through the garage and into the house, the metal door rolling down to the concrete.

My heart squeezed tight, and my knees shook. Man, I’d hurt this family and was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get through to them. A sharp pain shot through my heart, and I doubled over. I took a few breaths and rubbed at my chest. A tinkling sound reminded me of what was in my hands. The keys. And dangling right next to the car key was the key that would give me my in.

The key to the front door.

Later that night, around midnight, I walked around the house, checking it out. Everything was dark and quiet. Circling back to the front, I used the key and opened the door. The alarm beeped once. I typed in the death date of the Harper parents. It beeped once more and turned off.

I couldn’t believe I’d resorted to breaking and entering. Well, technically I didn’t break in since I had the key, but still… If they wanted to press charges, I could get into some serious trouble. Worth it. The woman upstairs held my heart and my unborn child.

I had to react. Risk it all. That’s what my mother told me when I explained the shit storm that had happened at the bar. At first, she reamed me to kingdom come. Then she ran around the house, planning out her future grandchild’s life and how she’d be a prominent player in it.

Slowly, I made my way up the staircase. Music flowed from Rowan’s room, but that was not unusual. The kid slept with it on.

Holding my breath, I walked up the small flight of stairs and listened at Genevieve’s door. Nothing but silence. I took one small breath and turned the knob. I looked at the bed, but she wasn’t there. The bathroom light was on. On quiet feet, I walked over, and there, lying on the floor, was my worst nightmare. Genevieve’s lifeless body was sprawled on her pink fringe bathroom mats.

I ran over, hit the tile on my knees, and yanked her into my arms. “Babe, oh my God, Genevieve!” I smacked at her face. Her eyelids fluttered. I pulled her head into my chest and thanked the good Lord she hadn’t left me. “Genevieve, what happened?”

Her eyes rolled back as she blinked, her gaze unfocused. “So sick.” She started to heave again.

I rolled her over, and she vomited nothing but thick green bile.

“Rowan!” I roared at the top of my lungs.

His door slammed against the wall. Then I heard the pounding of his feet on the stairs, up the landing, and into the room. He skidded across the wood floor in his socks.

“What did you do?” he yelled.

“Nothing! I found her passed out. She’s really sick.”

“Yeah, I know, dumbass. She’s been throwing up nonstop for two weeks.” He stepped over us, got a washcloth, wet it, and laid it over her forehead. “She’s burning up. What do we do?” He winced, and his face paled.

I made a quick decision and lifted her body into a cradle hold. “Watch your sister. I’m taking Genevieve to the emergency room.”

“She’s not dressed!” Rowan said, pulling on his hair.

I looked down. Genevieve was in a tiny tank and a pair of panties and nothing else.

“Give me that throw blanket. Hurry!”

Rowan tossed it over Genevieve’s unconscious form.

“Gumdrop, you’re gonna be fine. Just fine. Row, call my mom. Get her to come here to watch Mary. I’ll meet you at Summit Medical.”

“Okay. Okay.” He stopped, took in a deep breath, lifted his shoulders, and pushed them back. A man stood in Rowan’s place. Somehow, he’d gotten older in the span of the ten seconds it took him to pull himself together.

I
woke
to the sound of angry whispering but kept my eyes shut, not certain I wanted anyone to know I was awake. One of them sounded like Trent and the other my friend Amber.

“I’ll say it one more time. I. Did. Not. Cheat. On. Genevieve. That broad is a groupie. Screws anything that moves. I was drunk, and she was all over me.” Trent ground out the whispered words staccato style.

“Oh, sure. Convenient excuse.” Even whispering, Amber’s voice was tight, strained. She was in full mama bear mode.

“Amber, I swear to you. I swear on all things holy, on my mother’s life, my job, I would never cheat on Genevieve. I love her. More than anything in this world.”

She scoffed. “You say that now, but what happens when she gets all big with her pregnancy? Hmm?”

“More of her to love,” he said instantly.

I almost laughed because that was such a Trent reply.

“And when you go on the road? You won’t have the comforts of home keeping you warm at night. What happens then?”

He sighed, and it sounded heavy, as though the weight of his future teetered on the edge of this question.

“I don’t know, Amber. Tons of guys are married and have girlfriends. Hopefully, Genevieve will be able to come to some, Rowan to others. I’ll hang out with the guys who have WAGs. Whatever it takes.”

“WAGs?”

“Wives and girlfriends. And I’ll swear to Genevieve if she’ll have me back, I’ll stay far away from any groupies. Especially DawnMarie. She feels really bad, by the way. She had been drinking too, and usually, when a player tells her he’s committed to a woman, she backs right off.”