Bad Boy’s Bridesmaid(86)

Our bed?

Fucking, a bed. It didn’t matter whose. It just mattered that she was in it.

“You seem tense, baby,” the woman whispered. “Can I help?”

Bryon nodded. I wasn’t in the mood and I certainly wasn’t looking for anyone else.

I wasn’t sure when it happened, but the revelation wasn’t a surprise. I wanted Leah and Leah alone.

“Don’t…” I pushed the woman away. She pouted, and I shrugged. “Nothing against you.”

“But…”

“No buts. Not interested.”

“But you’re Jack Carson…” The girl laughed. “I thought tonight would be fun.”

Since when did I have to explain myself or my cock? Was my reputation that bad? Did people really think I’d hump anything that talked?

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the sonogram. I wasn’t sure what I was doing with it, but the image still made me smile. I showed the woman.

“That’s my baby,” I said. “He’s got my squiggles, right?”

“Oh.” The woman didn’t even look at the picture. “You do need some attention.”

“What?”

“You know...Momma’s at home all sick and moody. And Daddy?” She licked her lips. “Daddy needs some extra love. I can help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Come on. What are you worried about? Just one night, Jack. Just me and you. No strings. No babies or wives.”

“She’s not my wife.” Why the hell hadn’t I offered to marry her?

“Even better. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her...”

The woman licked her lips and tugged her shirt low, revealing the plump flesh of her breasts.

Was this what I once wanted? Meaningless, casual, forgettable sex? It used to feel good, and it got me off. No questions. No leashes. I always made a quick escape before the girl wanted something stupid like breakfast or my number.

Or to present me as someone respectable to the world.

To make me think of someone other than myself.

To have my baby.

Jesus. I never used to want commitment and family and all the shackles that came with it, but now? It was the only thing that made sense.

I’d pissed Leah off. I needed to talk to her before she made good on her threat and left. And, once I found her, I wasn’t letting go. No more chances. None of this hesitant, uncertain bullshit. Leah was the only woman for me—for now and forever. For the first time in my life, I needed something other than the championship to prove my worth.

I wanted someone to love.

I pushed the woman off of me and waved to Bryon. “I gotta go home.”

Bryon grunted, forcing the blonde’s hand back to his jeans. “Let her cool down. Those pregos get worked up all the damn time.”

“Yeah, I don’t want her worked up. I gotta make sure she’s not imploding. Thanks for…”

For showing me how hollow everything had been. For proving Leah right and me wrong and finally accepting that I had more in my life than superficial bullshit.

I nodded to him. “See ya tomorrow.”

I let myself out, sucking in a breath of fresh air as the night choked the world. I used to like that too. No one could see what or who you did in the dark. But tonight just felt too…alone.

I hopped in my car and pulled my phone. I’d turned it off in my rage like a jackass. Didn’t surprise me to see Leah’s name pop up on a missed call. At least she had the sense to call like a rational adult when times got tough.

I pulled onto the street and checked the message, but my fingers clenched over the wheel as Leah’s voice whimpered over the phone. The voice mail was from an hour ago. The fear in her words transferred to me, chilling my blood and slicing through my flesh in a raw agony.

The message played once.

I thought hurting my knee was terrifying. This was worse.

This was hell.

This was every terrible nightmare come to life because I was too goddamned selfish to consider the world beyond myself.

I jammed the brake and spun the car one hundred and eighty degrees in the middle of the intersection. The car squealed and peeled out, racing towards the city’s hospital.

Her words scalded my mind, replaying over and over.

“Jack…it’s me. I think something’s wrong. Please call me. I have to go to the hospital.”





Chapter Twenty-Two – Jack



The highway blurred under the car. I didn’t check to see how suicidally fast I drove.

I passed six cars on the right, two on the left, and weaved between any asshole who couldn’t figure out how their fucking accelerator worked. Nothing would stop me from getting to the hospital.

Nothing.

It was my fault. I got her upset. I fought with her. I left. And then something happened to the baby.

Fuck, I knew something wasn’t right with her. The signs were there. She was tired. Weak. She grabbed the couch for support.

What the hell did I do?

My heart crushed itself against my ribs. It wasn’t fair. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to Leah, but if the baby was in danger?

Fuck.

I wasn’t a good man. I wasn’t a role model. But goddamn it, I thought I could be a good father.

A good husband.

If I had the chance. If Leah gave me a chance and the damn world cut me a fucking break, I’d prove to everyone that Jack Carson wasn’t some bastard who only wanted a quick fuck, fast cars, and no responsibilities. Nothing sounded better to me than a night spent rocking my baby to sleep in my arms as I watched the late night sport highlights.

I laid on the horn and passed another idiot going under the speed limit in the left lane. Ten minutes lost. It felt like ten days. I was too late to get ahold of Leah. She didn’t answer her phone, and I hoped that meant she was already with a doctor and not…

Not that she couldn’t answer her phone for whatever reason.

This was bullshit. I forced the car faster and raced the highway itself, slowing only so I didn’t break my neck skidding off the ramp and into the city. The hospital was less than a mile away, but the instant I peeled onto Hayes Street, red and blue lights flashed in my mirror.

The police cruiser whistled his siren and pulled behind my bumper.

This wasn’t happening.

“Fuck…not now!” I slammed a hand against the wheel. Hurt myself. That was all we needed. Broken fingers with speeding tickets, leaving Leah alone in the hospital, terrified for herself and the baby and…

I couldn’t stop for the cop.

But if I ran?

At least Leah would know exactly where I was when the hospital TVs showed coverage of the high speed chase with the headline Jack-ass Carson – Still At Large After Fucking Everything Up.

I couldn’t put Leah through that, not while she was already in pain. How long could a stop possibly take? A minute? Two?

“Hang on, Kiss.” I pulled over. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

The lights flashed, repeatedly, but the officer didn’t haul his lazy ass out of the car. The minute I surrendered to the law instead of Leah passed. So did the second. The third.

I tore through the glove box and found the insurance and registration. My driver’s license bent in my hand. He still didn’t get out of the fucking car. I’d have handed him my entire checkbook and offered a bribe for every asshole in the precinct if it meant getting back on the road.

The instant the officer moved, I knew I was fucked.

I watched in the mirror as his thick boot struck against the ground. The cinders and road debris crumbled under his feet. He already knew who he caught. Pretty sure he ran my plates and got a hard-on just thinking of how he’d torture me tonight.

He was the same cop who broke up the bar fight. He came after me first and made sure I was cuffed even though I was the only one busted up. I had the blackened eye—apparently that also meant I got the elbow to the rib and treated like some punk-ass criminal.

Officer Burke hated that the charges were dropped. Now he’d get his revenge, except he wasn’t just screwing with me. Every second he toted his ego-driven, testosterone-fueled, authority complex over me was another second Leah waited for me at the hospital.

She’d never forgive me.

What was happening to her now?

Officer Burke leaned over the Porsche and grinned, his fingertips stroking a paint that was too rich for his salary. He’d have to pull over a lot of speeders to get that promotion. He nodded at me, his thick tongue rubbing over his teeth like he prepared to feast on a steak.

Another treat too rich for a man like him.

“Jack Carson.” He snorted. “Gonna have to ask you to get out of the car.”

“Look—”

“Now.”

“I’m on the way—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck where you’re going or why. You’re speeding on my roads, causing a public disturbance again. Get your ass out of the car.”

“I’m going to the hospital.”

“You’re going to jail if you don’t get out of the goddamned car!”

Son of a—

I kicked the door open. Officer Burke hauled me behind the car and kicked at my legs. My bad knee buckled, and it gave him just the advantage he needed to slam me on the truck and frisk me like I was a damned convict.

“I have to get to the hospital!” I spat the word, deliberating too long on a profanity and simply leaving it out. My words didn’t sound any less disrespectful. “My girlfriend is—”