Addicted After All (31 page)

Oh. “It makes me weak,” I realize.

“And it makes you human, Lil.”  He kisses my cheek and then the outside of my lips and then…my body pulls towards him as his tongue slides against mine. I ache to be even closer, but I chant over and over
this has to be enough.

It is.

I won’t let my weakness get the better of me. Or play with my mind. It’s a daily battle that I’m beating today.

{ 29 }

LOREN HALE

Current standings: Ryke Meadows (cursed out three men last meeting) needs to act more professional in a work setting. 6 out of 14 love you. Congratulations, son.
– Dad

I read the group text with everyone else while Connor’s limo sits in gridlocked traffic. We’re all riding to New York for a Cobalt Diamonds dinner party

“Was that sarcasm?” Lily whispers to me, pointing to the part about Ryke.

“Most definitely.” The next text suddenly comes in. He’s splitting them into four messages, I realize.

Lily Calloway (only spoke to two women last meeting and hid by a plant) needs to be more personable. Too shy. 7 out of 14 love you. Sorry, Lily.
– Dad

I want to sigh in relief, but anxiety knots my stomach. I have no clue how I’ve come across to the board. We’ve each had three encounters with all fourteen of them so far, and I can’t tell who’s making progress.

All I know is that Lily is due in a little over a month. Saddling this shit on top of a baby—it’s starting to wear on me. And I’m paranoid that everyone is waiting for me to slipup and drink, watching me constantly. A nervous heat gathers on my neck, and I rub the back of it.

Maybe it’s my own conscience that plagues me the most.

“Can someone please send me these texts?” Rose says with less fire in her voice. It’s the first thing I’ve heard her say the entire limo ride. She’s been glaring out the window, probably cursing every automobile for causing us to be late.

 “I can,” Daisy says, tapping her screen. I hear Rose’s phone chime and so does Connor’s, who sits next to her.

“Hey, look I’m beating Ryke,” Lily says with a small smile.

“By one fucking person. Don’t get so excited.” He grabs a water bottle out of the ice bucket and then passes it to Daisy.

My leg jostles while I wait for the next text to come in. I watch Lil tug at her plain purple dress; the fabric doesn’t suction to her stomach like Rose’s black one, but she’s still uncomfortable from carrying more weight.

I pull her closer to my side, letting her lean against me, and she kicks off her heels and curls up on the stretched leather seat.

All of our phones ping at the same time.

Loren Hale (appeared interested in Hale Co. proceedings but looked exceptionally surly when asked about rehab) needs to work on communication. 10 out of 14 love you. Well done, son.
– Dad

“That wasn’t sarcastic,” Lily says softly, worry flickering in her eyes.

It’s good though. I can almost breathe again. “It’s what I want, Lil.” Maybe my voice sounds unsure because she pouts in this adorable way, her bottom lip pushed out a little further.

And then her breath shallows.

Christ.
I must be eyeing her mouth too much. She squirms, readjusting and I touch her arm, her skin hot with arousal.
She’ll be fine.
Her crazy sex drive isn’t as high as it was in the second trimester, but she’s still a sex addict.

“So much for working together,” Ryke says under his breath next to me. But if the girls aren’t chosen, the outcome is what I wanted. Only one of us could win this position, in the end. Working together just meant they’d lose out.

“It’s how it should be,” I remind all of them.

Ryke shakes his head repeatedly. “You can’t…” he trails off and his jaw hardens.

Irritation festers in my core, and I grit my teeth. “I can’t handle it?”

He stays quiet, basically admitting that’s what he was going to say.

“Yeah? Maybe I can’t, Ryke.” My leg bounces more. “But maybe I
can
. I should at least be given the chance to try.” I want to be better. God, more than anything. I want to be like him.

“It hasn’t even been a whole year since your last relapse,” Ryke tells me in a controlled voice, trying not to curse me out. “I’m just
concerned
, as your sober coach but mostly as your fucking brother.”

Lily hooks her arm around my waist, my muscles tensing like crazy. “Whatever…” I drop it there, especially as our phones ping again.

I check the text.

Daisy Calloway (sociable and well-spoken, very engaging) needs to stop fidgeting during group conversations. 12 out of 14 love you. Great work, Daisy.
– Dad

My stomach falls, and the small fight I had with Ryke now seems insignificant.

Ryke drops his phone in his lap and runs his hands over his face. “Fucking fuck…” He mumbles out more curses, and I notice that Daisy isn’t even paying attention to the texts.

“Are you okay, Rose?” she asks her sister.

Rose is pinching the bridge of her nose like she’s in pain, and Connor is rubbing her shoulders and whispering in her ear. Neither of them say a word.

I tell Daisy, “She’s probably about to cry because she knows
your
life is about to end.” It’s dramatic, especially for me, but maybe it’ll knock some sense into this girl.

“You all have things you love to do,” Daisy says. She braids her hair that’s now platinum-blonde, which pretty much resembles an alien to me. “I’m not giving up anything like you are.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say. “I’m not giving up a goddamn thing by being the CEO of Hale Co. I’ll still own Halway Comics.” I’ll just have twice the responsibility.

She’s nineteen, started modeling at fourteen. This girl has worked more in her lifetime than I fucking have—that’s the truth here.

Ryke adds, “You are giving something up, sweetheart. You’re sacrificing the thing you
could’ve
loved. One day you’re going to find it. Hale Co. isn’t your burden, and I’m going to be fucking sick if you take it.”

Daisy sips her water, mulling this over. We’re older than her. And I think she’s feeling it in this moment. She slouches, her green eyes flickering between us and then she lands on Ryke. “Who would you rather see be the CEO, me or Lo?”

“Neither,” he says immediately.

“That’s not a choice.”

He does look sick now. Like he’s going to puke or something. And I watch his face twist in pain as he contemplates each scenario. I pull at the collar of my white button-down, the suit jacket warm on top.

“Daisy, if it’s between you and me, he wants
me
to take it,” I interject. He needs to back me up, to have faith in me and to give Daisy a bigger reason to step away.

“I didn’t fucking say that,” he retorts.

Goddammit, Ryke.
I grind my teeth, my hand shaking, and he catches the irrepressible jitter.
I’m not going to drink.
The words scratch my throat, itching to come out like I could scream every syllable. But it just stays an urge, a thought, and I wear the sentence on my face instead.

“Rose?” Lily says, worry spiking her voice. My head whips towards Rose, who has her eyes closed, color lost in her cheeks.

“I’m fine,” she says in a stilted voice. But she’s almost hunched over, and Connor’s hand tightens on her shoulder. “They’re false contractions.”

Jesus Christ. “You’re having contractions right now?” This entire time?

“They’re
false
,” she emphasizes, growling out the word, and her eyes snap open, just to shoot me the evilest glare. She blows out a long breath. “I have three more weeks until my due date. It’s too soon.”

Now I notice how Connor’s examining her movements, his gaze traveling across her body.

“Motherfuck…” She grips the edge of the leather seat and glances at the window. “We should be there by now.”

“You’re in pain and you’re
still
worried about being late to a dinner party?” I ask like she’s insane. She is. One-hundred percent insanity. I’m watching it.

“We’re still stuck in traffic,” Lily says to Rose, passing over my comment to keep her sister calm. “Do you need some water?”

Rose shakes her head a couple times. I really can’t tell if this is false labor or not. None of us have any prior experience as second-time fathers or mothers.

I watch Connor shrug off his suit jacket, maybe from the June heat. I lean over and try to speak through the limo privacy-screen at the driver. “Gilligan, can you turn the air conditioning down?” I ask. “It’s boiling back here.” Almost instantly, a gust of cool air blows out of the vents.

“Rose,” Connor says, impassive like usual, “put your legs on the seat for me.”

She’s pretty much doubled over now, clutching her knees that have broken apart. Shit. “It’s too early…” Her voice breaks in pain.

Connor doesn’t wait for Rose to comply. He seizes her legs and spins her so she’s lying along the stretched limo seat, adjacent to where we sit. My pulse races. This is not happening.

“Her water didn’t break,” I point out.
This is not happening right now.

 Daisy scoots behind Rose, propping her head in her lap, and she rubs Rose’s sweaty hair off her forehead. “It’s probably false labor,” Daisy says.

Lily is wide-eyed and slack-jawed, unmoving from her spot beside me. It’s more nerve-wracking when Connor says nothing, when he hides his emotions, leaving us to guess.

He rests one of Rose’s feet on his thigh, so she has room to open her legs. And then he covers her waist and lower half with his suit jacket, maybe so he can remove her underwear.

Ryke and I inspect the traffic out the window at the same time. The accident up ahead must not be cleared yet because we’re still barely inching forward.

“Connor,” Rose cries in pain—her face full of it. I’ve never seen her like this.

The floodgate to Connor’s emotions finally cracks, and I catch a glimpse of concern in his blue eyes. He reaches out, holds her hand tightly in his, and then glances between her legs. He keeps one palm on her bent knee. “I need someone to call 911,” he says to us.

Rose doesn’t even complain or put up a fight about it, which means she’s hurting badly right now.

“I got it,” Ryke declares, dialing the number in his cell. While he starts speaking to the operator, I talk to Connor.

“Her water didn’t break,” I mention again. “That has to mean this is—”

Rose screams, like a horrific, blood-curdling scream. Connor’s grip tightens on her, as though he’s holding her life in his hands. The terrifying thought: he just might be.

Lily is shaking, and I hug her closer to my chest, wrapping my arms around her body, and placing my hands flat on her belly.

“I want…an epidural,” Rose demands, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

Connor rubs her knee and squeezes her hand. “We both know it’s too late for that. You probably broke your water in the shower this morning…” He checks his watch. “Around six, and you didn’t realize it.”

It hits me. She’s been in labor for fourteen hours already. Thinking each tiny pain wasn’t the real thing, not until right now.

Rose sits up more, leaning against Daisy’s chest, and she clutches her legs. “Connor…” The fear in her voice rings through the limo, chills biting my neck.

He cups her face, his thumb brushing away her tears. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our child. You’re going to be fine.” I can tell that he’s partly convincing himself.

He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, but intelligence has its limits. I feel like I’m watching one.

Rose starts shaking her head at Connor, and his fingers firmly hold her in place so she stops.

“Rose,” he says softly, “your body is ready to have this baby. And if you just let go, your mind will catch up, darling.”

“I’m scared,” she cries, wetting his hand with her tears.

Connor eyes grow red as he stifles more emotion. “I’m not leaving you.” The limo is quiet, Ryke already off the phone. Rose’s forehead wrinkles as another contraction begins. She shuts her eyes, and Connor glances between her legs before looking back at his wife.

And he asks her, “When you were fourteen, what was the first thing I ever said to you?”

It looks like she wants to scream again, but the noise dies in her throat as she concentrates on Connor’s words. “Are you…quizzing me?”

“Yes,” he admits. I almost want to ask how much she’s dilated, but then I don’t want to imagine it at all. I’m guessing Connor can tell though, even if he’s not a doctor. He’s smart enough.

She chokes back a cry and lets out a trained breath. Rose opens her eyes as she answers, “You said that I was your greatest competition.”

“And now,” he whispers, “you’re my greatest ally.” With one hand on her knee, he says, “I need you to push.”

This is actually happening.

In the back of Connor’s limo.

Rose is having a baby.

I rub my lips while Rose pushes and curses, her language as foul as Ryke’s. She’s threatened to kill all of us in the span of a minute and declared her hate of pretty much everything.

Daisy pulls Rose’s damp hair out of her face. “You’re doing great, Rose,” she cheers her on.

I make sure to keep my mouth shut, more worried about what’s going to happen if the ambulance doesn’t show up when the baby does. Or if the baby isn’t breathing. Or if there are other complications with Rose. There are just too many things that could go wrong.

“Give me your shirt,” Connor says to me, his voice urgent. I take off my suit jacket and then unbutton my dress shirt. I pass it to him and then glance down at Lily.

She’s stunned in silence still, and maybe if she wasn’t pregnant too, she’d be less freaked out and more encouraging. I think the majority of us are terrified.

“One more push,” Connor tells her, his hands disappeared beneath his suit jacket across her lap.

Rose looks exhausted, her eyelids heavy. “Connor…it’s too much…”

“Rose,
Rose
, keep your eyes open.” He checks her body before he says, “You’re mentally capable of anything, even this.”