The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos (13 page)

“Okay, slow down,” he said, his eyes widening in alarm. “Are you hurt?”

Riley sat down next to him and took Chloe from his arms. She mouthed “What’s going on?” Max shrugged.

“No,” Nicole wailed. “It’s two lines.” She sobbed into the phone, her cries piercing his heart.

He frowned. “Nicole, I have no idea what that means.” He glanced at Riley in alarm. His stomach flipped, his pulse skittering. The phone slipped in his grasp, his palms sweaty.

“I’m pregnant,” Nicole cried, and her weeping drowned out the whole world.

Max stared at the rest of the mall, not seeing the stores and the people milling by. Blood pounded in his ears, and the world began to grey around him. He felt his arms go limp.

Riley shook him, hard. “What’s going on?” she screeched.

Swallowing hard, he brought the phone to his ear again. “Nicole, are you sure?”

She sobbed something that sounded like “Yes,” and his heart sank.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said, and hung up. He stared at his phone in his hands, the screen going dark.

“What the
fuck
was that all about?” Riley asked.

His mind whirled. They had been together for two weeks. It couldn’t be possible. Nausea bubbled in his stomach. Bile rose in his throat. He leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands.

“Max,” Riley said, shaking him hard. “Talk to me. What happened? What did she say?”

It couldn’t be possible. His mind replayed the words over and over. He tried to remember whether they had used condoms, or if Nicole had ever mentioned being on birth control. Bile burned up through his throat and spilled through his lips. Darting from the bench, he vomited into the garbage can. His hands gripped the sides and he threw up again, his knees going weak.

A woman walked by, pushing a baby in a stroller. She threw him a concerned glance. “Are you all right, kiddo?”

He nodded weakly, his head feeling wobbly on his neck. Riley appeared at his elbow. She held Chloe on her hip and rubbed circles into his back.

“Maxi Pad,” she said. “You’re scaring me.”

He turned and faced her, his eyes bleary. “Nicole is pregnant.”

Riley’s mouth dropped open.“Shit,” she said.

He turned and leaned over the garbage can again. His stomach churned but nothing happened. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. Willing himself to wake up, he squeezed his eyes shut even harder. He had to be dreaming. History couldn’t possibly be repeating itself.

He swallowed hard. He could hardly take care of the three of them, never mind four—especially if Nicole was going to fall apart all over again. Memories of the day she had told him that she was pregnant with Chloe flashed through his head. She had threatened to kill herself. Then, after she told her parents, she had threatened to have an abortion. Her parents had convinced her to give the baby up for adoption, and Max’s father and brothers had convinced them all, in a courtroom, to give full custody to Max and his parents.

Arms shaking, Max remained hunched over the garbage can.

“Shit,” Riley said again. “Are you sure? Is she sure?”

He sucked in a deep breath. He tried to recall whether Nicole had her period at all since they had gotten back together. He didn’t usually pay attention to those things, but he needed to do the math. He couldn’t remember, though. If she hadn’t, the timing was about right. He swore and slammed his eyes shut again.

“Max,” Riley said, taking his arm. “We’ve gotta get moving. Security is coming our way.”

He looked up. Sweat beaded at his forehead. Two security guards strode toward them, their gazes hard. Pushing his hair back, he straightened.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked.

He shook his head, but took Chloe from her arms. “I’ve gotta go home,” he said.

“Ma, ma, ma,” Chloe said, as she toddled over to the couch. Nicole lay on her side, one arm draped over her belly. Chloe patted her hand. “Mama.” Nicole stared over her head at a movie streaming on the computer.

Max stood in the hallway, watching the two. From where he stood, Nicole couldn’t see him. He watched as Chloe tapped Nicole’s arm again, saying her name over and over as if she were singing a song.

Nicole moaned and pulled her hand away, her eyes still on the computer screen.

Their daughter put one leg up on the couch, a grin breaking out across her face as she climbed. Nicole lifted a hand. “Get down,” she said, keeping her voice low, Max assumed, so that he couldn’t hear her from the kitchen where he was supposed to be studying.

That morning, he had dropped her and Chloe off at the gynecologist’s office on his way to work with a kiss and money for the bus ride home. She had kissed him back and taken his money, but her eyes were flat and distant. When she and Chloe walked from the front car to the door, Nicole had kept both of her hands in her coat pockets.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened. He crossed his arms.

Chloe remained standing next to the couch, her eyes fixed on Nicole. “Ma, ma, ma,” she tried again.

“Go away,” Nicole said.

Max gritted his teeth. The peace and quiet of studying without a toddler on his heels wasn’t worth the price of his daughter getting her feelings hurt. Pushing himself off of the wall, he strode into the living room. He stretched his arms out for Chloe. “Hey, baby,” he crooned. “Want to have a snack with Daddy?”

Chloe let him pick her up, but her face remained solemn. Her eyes traced Nicole’s face as Max carried her away.

“Can I get a smile?” he asked her, tickling her armpit. She wrenched her body away and squawked.

“Mommy,” she called over his shoulder.

Max felt his heart sink. He strapped her into her high chair and slid a coloring book and crayons onto the tray in front of her. “Help Daddy study for a little while, baby,” he said softly. He glanced down the hall into the living room. Nicole remained motionless on the couch.

Sinking into a chair, he tried to focus on the reading for his classroom management class. His eyes drifted to his daughter’s face, though. She leaned over in her high chair, her body very still. She gazed down the hall, her blue eyes burning into the couch. With her gaze so intense, she looked more like her mother. A frown creased her forehead.

Max swallowed hard. He straightened in his seat, his mind whirling. In the nearly two weeks since Nicole had told him that she was pregnant, a tension hung over his little family. When she had first moved in, he thought that things could work out. She seemed happy, and Chloe seemed to like having her around. As he watched his daughter’s eyes fill with hopeless abandon, though, he began to think he had made a huge mistake. Taking a deep breath, he stood from his seat. His legs felt like hardening concrete as he forced himself to walk into the living room.

Nicole still lay on the couch. Her fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone as she sent someone a text message. Tucking it under her ribs, she looked back at the movie. A second later, her phone vibrated underneath her. She retrieved it, read the message, and began to type something back.

“Who’s that?” Max asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

She jumped. Shoving the phone back underneath her, she twisted around to look up at him. “Hey, babe.” A smile spread across her lips. “Wanna come lay with me?”

For a moment, he considered it. Maybe he was being ridiculous. Toddlers were moody all of the time. Pregnant women often felt too nauseous to do much other than lay down. His mind flashed back to before she had announced her pregnancy, though, and he cringed. Unless he was actively involved, Nicole had spent most of her time on the couch or in bed.

“Nicole,” he said, his voice thick. He swallowed hard, forcing his emotions away. “What’s going on?”

She blinked at him, her large blue eyes glazed over. Her pupils were pinpricks in the grey afternoon light.

He froze. The lethargy and her slow reaction time made sense. “Are you stoned?” he asked, his eyes hardening.

A slow smile swept over her face. “Come lay with me,” she said, her voice husky. She rolled onto her back. The phone dropped onto the floor.

Max glanced at it. “Who were you texting?”

The smile dropped from her face. “No one,” she said.“Babe,” she added. Her blue eyes burned into his.

Max stared at her for a moment, his gaze locked on her blue eyes. Then she blinked, her eyelids sweeping down lazily, remaining closed for longer than usual. He charged forward, darting around the couch. Sliding across the rug, the skin of his arm burning against the fabric, he reached for the phone. His fingers closed around cool plastic, and he drew it toward him.

“No,” she said, reaching out for his hand. Her fingers closed around his wrist, her nails digging into his skin.

“Let go,” he said.

She flexed her fingers, her nails craping at his flesh.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, wrenching his arm away. Blood dotted his arm.

“Give me my phone,” she said, pouncing onto him from the couch. Her hand flew through the air, her palm connecting with his cheek. A loud
smack
echoed off the walls of the apartment.

In the kitchen, Chloe shrieked.

Max army-crawled away from Nicole, putting space between them. Jumping up, he woke the phone with a swipe of his thumb. His body shaking, his skin burning, he scrolled to her text messages. His eyes scanned the contents of her latest message. “Who the fuck is Jayden?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Nicole’s face.

She gaped at him, her lips slightly parted. Her blue eyes were red. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Who is he?” Max asked again, holding the phone up. “Why is he asking about the baby?” His hand shook in the air.

Nicole stared at him, her lips quivering.

“Answer me, Nicole,” he said. Tears burned at his eyes. He read the last text out loud. “‘How is the baby?’ Why is he asking that?”

“Babe,” she said, lifting a hand. “Just give me the phone.”

Max clenched his fingers around it. “I’ll break it, Nicole. Answer me.”

“You’re not my fucking father,” she spat. Springing from her position on the floor, she launched herself at him.

He juked away like a running back in the NFL, turning away from her at the last minute and running in the opposite direction. He hadn’t played football in the street with his friends since before he started dating her, but that move was still ingrained in every atom of his muscles. She crashed into the desk chair. “You’re right, I’m not your father,” he said, braking fast before he ran into the wall. His chest heaved. He inhaled but his lungs felt as if someone sat on his chest. “I didn’t threaten to kick you out at seventeen if you didn’t get an abortion.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She sank into the chair.

“Don’t get comfortable,” Max said, holding up the phone again. “Who is Jayden?”

She pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms around her belly.

“I let you move in with me,” he said. “I let you have another chance with my daughter.” He squeezed the phone in his hand. “Who is he, Nicole?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her hands fell into her lap, limp. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She stared at him, blue eyes glassy, her blonde hair drooping around her face. “He’s my boyfriend,” she said.

Max flinched. His arms fell to his sides. “Your what?”

“He broke up with me right before Christmas,” she said. “Right after I told him I was pregnant.”

Max’s stomach dropped. His legs turned to jelly. Staggering backward, he sank into the couch. “What?” he repeated, his eyes searching her face. The phone tumbled from his grasp. He blinked away tears. “You were already pregnant?” Mind churning, he flashed through the last few weeks. Between work, class, and Chloe, he had barely noticed what Nicole did during the day. At night, she went to class—or at least, he thought that was what she did. He sat up straight on the couch, a shock splitting through his spine. “You’re not even in school, are you?” He climbed to his feet, stooping to pick up the phone. He threw it at her.

She screamed. Ducking, she dodged the phone. It smacked into the wall and fell to the floor. She dove for it, hands cupping it and cradling it to her chest. “I had to drop out when he kicked me out of the apartment.”

Max forced himself to take a deep breath. His hands clutched at his head. He turned away from her, pacing the living room. “Why did you come to dinner, then?” He thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. He needed the confirmation.

“I ran into Xavier at work,” she said, finally dropping his brother’s nickname. “At first, I avoided him, but then Jayden kicked me out. I needed somewhere to stay.”

Nausea roiled in his stomach. He swallowed hard, fighting the vomit rising. “So you didn’t want another chance with Chloe?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I mean, she’s cute and all, but I wanted this baby with Jayden. I wanted him to want it.” More tears leaked down her face. “I knew you would want it. You wanted Chloe. You didn’t want me, but you wanted her.” Lips trembling, her eyes bore into his. “I knew you would take care of this one.”

His jaw tightened. His lips curled into a snarl. A bitterness he had never tasted filled his mouth. “I could never want you,” he said.

Nicole rocked backward as if he had hit her. Her lips parted and trembled. She raised both hands to her face, her fingertips touching her cheeks. She looked like a damsel in distress in a horror movie. Glee surged through Max. Finally, after all of the damage she had done, he had managed to hurt her back.

“You keep ruining my life,” he said, stalking toward her. “What have I done to you?” Emotion exploded inside of him, propelling the next words that came out of his mouth. “I raised our daughter when you didn’t want to. I took her off your hands so you could, what, open your legs and do the same thing to another little kid?”

Her eyes widened and she sagged. Her hands cradled her face.

Max seized her wrist and hauled her to her feet. “I want you out,” he said, dragging her toward the front door.

She dug her heels into the carpet. “You’re hurting me,” she screeched.

“How does it feel?” he said, turning to face her. Releasing her wrist, he backed up a couple of steps. His heart slammed in his chest.

The palm of her hand slapped against his cheek. Her hands flew at his face. Sharp fingernails grazed his skin. Nicole struck him again and again, her blows wild. He raised an arm to block her. He cringed as the heel of her hand made contact with his shoulder.

“I hate you,” she screamed, flinging herself away. She landed on the couch, tears and snot trailing down her face.

Max swallowed hard. “Get out,” he said, his voice rumbling in his throat. He glanced toward the kitchen, glad that Chloe couldn’t get out of her high chair and see her parents. Shame ripped through him. He should have remained calm the whole time.

Nicole rubbed her wrist. Jutting her chin up at him, she glared at him. “No,” she sniffled.

Planting his feet, he reached for her again. “Get out,” he repeated. His fingers brushed her sweater, but she moved out of reach. She tumbled from the couch onto the floor. Glaring up at him, she reminded him of a toddler having a tantrum. For a moment, he wondered whether he should call the police. She needed help. His skin stung where she had scratched and hit him. It could have been much worse. “You have to leave,” he told her.

Her eyes narrowed and she curled into a ball. “You can’t make me.”

Max gritted his teeth. He patted his pockets for his phone. Frowning, he glanced around the living room. He didn’t see it. Panic fluttered in his chest. He dragged his gaze back to Nicole. Keeping his voice calm, he took a step toward her. “I want you out of here,” he said.

She sobbed. Her blonde hair fell into her face. Her arms cradled her stomach. Blue eyes imploring, she stared up at him. “Please,” she said.

Max shook his head. “Get your shit, and get out.” He left her in the living room and went into the kitchen. Chloe sat in her high chair, her eyes wide.

“Daddy?” She reached out for him.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, pushing her chair into a corner. He stood in front of her protectively. He glanced around the kitchen for his phone, but didn’t see it anywhere. It figured. The one time he really needed the damned thing, it was nowhere to be seen. He wondered if Nicole had gotten it somehow, but dismissed the thought. She had been more concerned about hiding her own phone.

Her voice drifted from the living room, her words hushed but desperate. Max’s shoulders dropped a little. She was probably on the phone with her ex-boyfriend or whatever Jayden was to her, begging him to come get her. Forcing his breathing to slow, Max turned his back toward the hall and leaned down, kissing Chloe’s forehead.

“Good girl,” he said. “Daddy’s here.”

Her palms slapped the tray. Crayons bounced. One jumped onto the floor. Sighing, Max stooped to pick it up. As he leaned down, he saw a pair of feet enter the kitchen. Straightening, he turned to see Nicole standing in the doorway.

“I just wanna say goodbye,” she said, holding up her hands.

His throat clicked as he swallowed hard. As much as he wanted to give Chloe her mother, he didn’t want to give her someone whose mood changed at the flip of a switch. He crossed his arms, blocking her view of his daughter. “I don’t think so,” he said.

“Please,” Nicole said, her lower lip trembling.

“You didn’t give a shit about her five minutes ago,” Max said. “What’s so different now?”

She bit down on her lip. Her eyes narrowed. Her gaze flicked from Max to the side. She crouched, the muscles in her legs tightening.

Max’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to do this, here, in front of her?” He lifted his hands, ready to shove her away. His eyes met hers. “If you really care about Chloe, Nicole, back off. Just turn around. Walk out that door. Don’t do this.” His heart thundered in his chest. He had been raised to never hit a woman. He wasn’t sure he could hit Nicole, even if it meant defending his daughter.