The Rebel's Own(9)

“You wouldn’t dare!” she cried out.

Ryan felt her shrinking within her body, and he immediately knew he had won. He hated treating women like this; his mother had definitely taught him better. But he was still carrying the High School Ryan Carville inside him, and that was the only reason he was capable of such disrespect.

“Are you pregnant, yes or no?” Ryan stared her down, but Clara did not confess. He set her down on the floor and dragged her towards the front door.

“Stop! I’m not pregnant. Not yet, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His heart froze in his chest as his mouth tightened into a thin dangerous line.

“I want your baby, Ryan.” Her fingers played with the hem of his shirt, as her little girl voice assaulted his ears. She used this voice when she wanted something from him, but this time she wasn’t going to get it.

He pushed her hands away and took a step back. Lowering his head to her ear, he declared, “Well, I don’t want yours.”

Ryan turned around and walked away, leaving a stunned Clara staring after him. He dug out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“The day is today, Matt. Have someone move my stuff out of Clara’s apartment.”





Chapter Six





“Hey, sweet pea.” Kennedy cuddled her tiny son into her side. She buried her nose in his hair and inhaled, then covered his face with kisses. She waited for the normal complaints that he wasn’t a baby anymore and was too old for kisses, but they never came. Riley snuggled next to her, trying to get even closer rather then further away. Her heart broke knowing the pain he must be feeling.

Maybe her mother was right; maybe she’d gone at this whole thing the wrong way. She would have to wait nine months—if she even got pregnant—before the cord blood could be harvested to help Riley, but asking Ryan to donate could happen in an instant with just a phone call.

Not now, though. He thought she was Bailey and hadn’t even recognized her. She was too far in to back out now.

“How is he?” Rebecca asked, concern scribbled all over her face.

“Mommy will be right back.” Kennedy gave her little boy a quick kiss and stepped out of the room with her mother, “It’s like he’s withering away every second. I can’t take it, Mama. If I lose him, I think I’ll die.”

“Hush! Don’t talk like that. Besides, he’s not withering. He’s just weak from the medication.” Rebecca took Kennedy’s hand. “Maybe you should consider telling Ryan. Try and convince him to donate his bone marrow to Riley and help with the expenses. We need his help, Kennedy.”

“I’ll tell him the truth. I’m meeting him later on today.” She peeked into her bedroom and couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped her. The sight of her usually rambunctious son looking so weak bit down hard on her. Her pride and pain had to take a backseat to Riley’s life. It didn’t matter if Ryan hated her in the end, if he thought she was trying to get revenge. He was going to discover that he had a son. A son who was dying and needed him to act like a responsible man and not like a high school boy.

• • •

“How long do you plan on waiting here?” Matt asked.

Ryan could see his friend had written him off as crazy. But what could he say? He’d had the best sex in his life and he was waiting for round two? Only a crazy man would walk away from Bailey. “For as long as it takes. Did you get all my stuff?”

“Yeah, we moved it to your house. I can’t believe you didn’t tell Clara about the gigantic mansion you bought when you proposed.”

“She would have just laughed in my face. Years ago, when I bought it, she was the woman I wanted to marry. Now, she is just my past. If I asked her to marry me now, she would agree only because of the status. She never loved me or believed in me. I was a silly kid back then.” A slow smile stretched his lips. He couldn’t imagine how lucky he was. Thank God Clara had said no, that she hadn’t set foot in his house.

Ryan had one more thing to thank God for: Bailey. She didn’t know how much change she had been instrumental in effecting in his life. He was determined to show her how thankful he was if she ever walked into the hotel.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ryan let out a nervous laugh. Matt knew who he was thinking about. He tried to control his thoughts of Bailey, because having a boner in public would be embarrassing at his age.

“If you were thinking about a sexy nymphomaniac named Bailey, she’s right behind you,” Matt nodded. Ryan turned around, too fast for his own good. His glass of red wine flew out of his hands and landed on the Persian carpet, the liquid soaking into the expensive threads. As Ryan stared down at the spreading stain, and a pair of homely black leather shoes came into view. He looked up at the equally homely woman who wore them, no doubt in his mind that she was the hotel manager. He flashed a nervous smile that disappeared quickly under her glare.