Ruined(14)
“Becoming a father isn’t bothering me.”
“But thoughts of your mother are?”
Kayne remains quiet.
“Maybe it’s time you found out what happened to her,” I suggest.
“Maybe not,” he seethes. I know this is a gaping wound for Kayne, a painful buckshot right to the gut. But he has to face it and now is the time.
“I can’t keep living like this. I need my husband back. I feel alone and scared and I don’t want to do this by myself.”
His expression softens but not enough to give me hope.
“I can’t, Ellie.”
“You have to,” I push.
“I don’t have to do anything,” he argues.
“Yes, you do! For me! For our child!”
“Let me remind you of something, kitten,” he snaps and I jump. “I own you, so that means I tell you what to do, not the other way around. And if I say no, it’s no!”
“Kayne!”
“Enough!” he shouts at me. “Go find a corner to curl up in and leave me alone!”
“You condescending cocksucker!” I hiss. Outraged, I pick up the remote control off the coffee table and hurl it at him as hard as I can, missing his head by a half inch. It smashes into the window behind him, creating a starburst crack.
“What the fuck, Ellie!”
“I’ll do better than find a corner. I’ll find a new place to live!” I storm out of the living room crying, snatch my keys off the kitchen counter, and slam the front door behind me.
I DROVE AROUND FOR HOURS, knowing without fail I would end up here.
I ring the doorbell and London answers moments later.
“Hey.” She hugs me.
“Expecting me?”
She nods. “Kayne was here a little while ago looking for you. He said you had an argument.”
“Argument is an understatement. I cracked one of the windows in the living room.”
“One of the big ones?” Her eyes widen.
“Yup,” I confirm.
“Did you try and put his head through it?”
I laugh. It feels cathartic. “I threw the remote at him and missed. Let’s hope this baby doesn’t inherit my accuracy.” I put my hands on my protruding stomach. “Is Jett around? I need to talk to him.”
“Upstairs. He just finished giving Becks a bath. Somehow, he got into the pantry, climbed on the shelf, and opened the peanut butter jar. The kicker, instead of eating it, he decided to rub it all over his body and the kitchen walls.”
“No.” I gasp.
“Yes.” She sighs exasperated.
“And you want another one?”
“If I change my mind, it’s too late now.”
I stare at her funny. “Are you . . . ?”
London nods precariously.
“Oh!” I hug her. “You’re insane and a little bit my hero.”
“Mommy?” Becks calls for London from the top of the stairs.
“Here, baby.” He walks down all clean. Blond hair blow-dried and blue eyes mischievous.
London lifts him into her arms. “Mommy has a baby in her belly,” he tells me in his sweet little raspy voice.
“I heard.” I smile at the gorgeous little boy.
“And let’s hope he or she only looks like you.” London touches her forehead to his. Becks chortles spiritedly, like he understands his mother’s joke. “Go on upstairs, Ellie. I need to give this little rascal some dinner.”
“Okay.” I walk up the stairs while London carries Becks into the kitchen. I love London and Jett’s house. It is so warm and full of love with pictures of them and the children everywhere. My favorites are the artistic shots in black and white. London loves photography and is extremely talented with a camera. I’ve already recruited her to take the baby’s first newborn shots.
Upstairs, I find Jett rinsing out the tub.
“A father’s work is never done,” I quip as I lean against the doorframe.
“Nope. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He flashes a smile at me, the front of his shirt soaking wet.
“I hear congratulations are in order, again,” I say cheerfully.
He grins brightly, confirming the news. “Yes, they are.”
“You’re going to have a baseball team by the time London is done with you.”
“If that’s what she wants.” He dries his hands off and comes to stand in front of me. “How are you doing, sweet thing?”
“I want to kill my husband,” I reply half-serious, half-sardonically. “You have some peanut butter . . .” I point to his hair.
“Yeah, we’ve all been there.” He rakes his fingers through the front of his blond strands, removing the clump of peanut butter. “Little bugger,” he muses.
“Who? Kayne or Beckett?
“Both,” he shoots back.
I can’t stop myself from laughing.
Jett washes off his hands, tickled. He is the most laid-back father. Nothing seems to rattle him, even Becks’ most outlandish antics. When he’s finished drying them, he puts his arm around me and walks me down the hall to his office. “Let’s talk.”
I take a seat on the cozy loveseat across from his desk. He always jokes he bought the piece of furniture for his therapy sessions. Right now, it’s coming in handy.
“I heard Kayne was here,” I say.
“Yup. Looking for his lost kitten.”
“Not lost, runaway. There’s a difference.”
“Yes, there is,” Jett agrees. “What was the fight about? Had to be pretty bad if you left.”
I groan. I’m irritable, frustrated, and utterly exhausted. “He’s been distant. Barely talks or eats or sleeps.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“About a month. Ever since we went for my twenty-week exam.”
“I see,” Jett ponders.
“When I finally confronted him today, everything just blew up.” I make an explosion gesture with my hands.
“He was pretty upset you left. Probably has half the SWAT team out looking for you right now.”
“Good, let them look. Serves him right for dismissing me into a corner like I really am a naughty cat.”
“He didn’t.” Jett’s eyes widen.
“Oh, he did. That’s when I threw the remote at him and stormed out.”
“Did you hit him?” Jett asks overly interested.
I shake my head.
“Too bad. I would have loved to see your throwing arm.” He chuckles.
“It’s not as impressive as you may think.”
“So what do you think his issue is?”
“The same issue that has been bothering him his whole life.”
“His mom.” Jett provides the obvious answer.
I nod, sadly. “I just think he needs to face it. And he won’t listen to me. He just pushes me away. I know the baby is affecting him. He was so excited to be a father, and now, he’s just completely different. He’s shutting us out, and it’s terrifying me.”
“Ellie, listen.” Jett takes a seat on the couch and wraps one arm around me. “First, I want to be clear. Kayne will never abandon you. And if the thought even crosses his mind, I’ll kill him, and I’ll make sure it hurts. Second, you’ll never be alone. No matter what happens, you have me and London and we love you like family.”
“Thank you.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “That’s very reassuring, but I’m not worried about me. I want our child to know his father. Know the person I know. I really think you need to talk to him. Convince him that he needs to find out what happened and put the past to rest. It’s the only way he’s going to move on.”
Jett stiffens before he lets out a huge sigh. “Ellie, I think there’s something I need to tell you, and I think now is definitely the time.”
I look up at him warily. “What?”
Jett gets up from the couch and walks around his desk. He opens a drawer, pulls out a folder, and drops it on the desktop.
“What’s that?”
“The smoking gun.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a copy of Kayne’s caseworker’s file. The one who was assigned to him when his mother was trying to regain custody.”
“What?!” I fly to my feet.
“How long have you had this?” I snatch the folder up and open it. The contents contain a bunch of papers and a picture of a seven-year-old Kayne sad enough to break your heart into a million pieces.
“Since right before we went undercover together.”
“What.” You could knock me over with a feather right now. “That’s like . . .” if my math is right, “over ten years.”
Jett confirms with a reluctant nod. “I had to be prepared in case of any surprises. So I looked into what happened to her.”
“And . . . ? What happened?” I flip through the file looking for answers. “Where is she?”
Jett’s expression just gets bleaker. “She’s dead, Ellie. She died shortly after Kayne met her for the first time.”
“No.” My chest tightens.
“I’m sorry.”
“How?”
“A car accident.”
“No, I mean how does Kayne not know this? He was in the system. He had a caseworker. Wasn’t it their responsibility to tell him?” I ask irate.
“I have a theory about that.”
“A theory?” I huff.