Текст книги "S.O.B. "
Автор книги: J. C. Valentine
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
26
The last few weeks have been an absolute nightmare. Levi is doing everything in his power to deflect the attention from me, but the media is a relentless bitch. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if we hadn’t had to say goodbye the next day, but we did. Levi has commitments that don’t involve sticking around in Ohio with me.
So while he’s off doing interviews and shooting commercials and posing for photo shoots, I’m back here trying—and failing—to ignore the circus lurking outside my front door.
The only thing I’m famous for is a stupid kiss with America’s number one bad boy, but apparently that makes me the current hot topic.
It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d leave me alone, but I can’t walk out the door anymore without a camera shoved in my face and some asshole shouting questions at me. A problem that was made even worse when they found out about the baby. All it took was one reporter following me to the doctor’s office, and there I was, splashed across every online magazine imaginable. Under Levi’s strict instruction, I keep my head down and refuse to answer anything. Just keep walking.
So that’s what I do. Every day I put on my bitch mask and walk out the door to a sea of chaos. I spend the next eight hours hiding inside the Center, a veritable prisoner inside my own place of business.
But, hey, business is better than ever. People can’t wait to get a look at the girl who tamed soccer’s notorious womanizer.
I’m just thankful that what staff I do have aren’t the judgy type. Even if they are, they certainly don’t do it while I’m around. Janey has been especially understanding and supportive. Her first words to me were, “Fuck ‘em all. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being in love with your stepbrother. It’s not like you two are actually related.”
I think I breathed my first full breath for the first time that day.
Her words are always at the forefront of my mind now. Every time I begin to doubt myself and this relationship, I recite them to myself and then remember the deal Levi and I forged. We’re stronger together. We will get through this.
I just wish he was actually here to do that.
Some days it feels like I’m the only one who’s wading knee-deep in the fallout of that picture, but I know that’s not true. I’ve watched some of his interviews, read the articles, and Levi is definitely working hard to put out fires.
“What do your parents think about your relationship?” one interviewer asked him.
His response: “They have nothing to do with this. Once their divorce is finalized, we’ll just be two people in love.”
When the news got out that we were expecting, another asked, “Are you afraid the baby will be deformed?”
Levi laughed, his mocking smile bright as he looked into the camera and said a definitive “No.” He then went on to ream the interviewer, setting him straight on how bloodlines work and the impossibility of any deformities or maladies based on the fact that we shared no genetic material and were, in fact, not brother and sister as they love to tout around.
I have never been prouder of him than I was in that moment. I was crying when he called that night, unable to hold back the waterworks as I told him how utterly amazing I thought he was.
He’s all I can think about, but today it’s made even worse by the fact that I have a doctor’s appointment and I’m not sure if he’s going to make it or not. When we spoke on the phone last night, he informed me that he would be in Michigan come morning for a shoot, but that he would try his best to be here.
Since it’s an afternoon appointment, I’m crossing my fingers real hard. I want this to be a shared experience. There’s nothing lonelier than going through the birth of your first child alone. I had been willing to do it before we reconnected, but now I want him by my side for all of it. He should be, since this is his first child, too. He should be present for all the firsts.
“You’re all set, Mrs. Piccilo,” I tell the woman laying on my table. Shifting sideways on my stool, I wipe the massage oil lacing my fingers onto a plush white hand towel.
“I feel so relaxed,” Mrs. Piccilo says with a refreshed smile, “I hardly have the energy to leave. Wonderful job, Vista. Same time next week?”
I nod as I stand and see her out. “Same time next week.” She heads to reception to schedule her next appointment and I head back to hand her chart off to Bethany so she can get it filed away. It’s been such a long day already, but it’s not even close to being over.
“It’s five,” Janey reminds me.
I glance at the clock and curse. “Time got away from me. You two will be alright here?” There’s one more hour left until closing, and I hesitate to leave even though there’s no one else on the schedule. Although, anyone in need of my skillset is required to have an appointment, so the girls and Dana, my second in command as I like to call her, are more than capable of holding down the fort. It’s just hard to relinquish control.
Janey waves me off like I’m being ridiculous. “Yes, Mom. Go, get out of here. Shoo!”
Snagging my purse from the locked drawer of her desk, I give her a quick hug, wish everyone a good evening, and head out.
Levi isn’t waiting for me outside, so it’s a long and contemplative drive over in the quiet cab. The doctor’s office isn’t much better. I sign in and take a seat, making sure to leave one open just in case. Wishful thinking is now in full effect.
There are two other women in the waiting room with me. One with a newborn sleeping in its car seat at her feet and a toddler who’s discovered the floor is made of lava. He’s leapfrogging from one connected chair to another. I bury my nose in a magazine, trying my best not to pay too much attention to the little monster, but I’m terrified he’s going to fall and break a leg. His mother, on the other hand, is completely at ease.
I wonder how she does it and if I’ll be able to find that kind of calm. I imagine that I will be a pretty high-strung mom. I’ve seen the kind of damage seemingly simple acts can do to the human body. Hell, Levi’s a prime example. All it took was a hit to the shin in precisely the right way and he had to undergo surgery and weeks of physical training to get back on his feet.
Right. I’m here for a checkup. If I don’t distract myself, I’ll end up down in the ER from skyrocketing blood pressure.
“Vista?”
My head jerks up at the sound of my name and I cast the magazine aside, following the nurse back, letting her know that Levi might show up a little late so they’ll send him back. In the narrow hallway, I kick off my shoes so she can get my weight, then she hands me a plastic cup and a few packets of Sani Wipes.
“You know the drill. I’ll meet you in room two when you’re done,” she informs me.
After I pee in the cup and set it in the window to be tested, I find my assigned room and get up on the table. The paper crinkles, filling the otherwise quiet room.
The nurse asks me a few routine questions and then leaves, assuring me that the doctor will be in shortly.
My feet dangle from the bed as I stare through the slats of the blinds covering the large window. It overlooks the parking lot below and despite knowing that Levi isn’t coming, I can’t help searching the rows of parked cars to be sure his isn’t down there.
This emptiness settles in as my hope finally begins to fade. I already knew the chances of him coming were slim, but I guess I hadn’t fully accepted it until now.
When I hear the rapid double tap on the door, I stiffen my spine and plaster on a fake smile.
“There you are.”
My head whips around at the sound of Levi’s voice. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to make it.”
Approaching the bed, Levi slips his hand into my hair and pecks my lips. “I almost didn’t. Traffic was crazy, and the shoot ran over. But I told the guy fuck it, I had some place to be. I might have lost that contract. Hell, I might have broken a few dozen speed laws, but nothing was going to stop me from being here.”
My heart is clenching tight with so much love I can hardly breathe. “If you’d been killed in an accident because you were speeding, that certainly would have stopped you.”
Levi’s cocky smirk falls into place. “Not even death, princess.”
I get his meaning, but it doesn’t make me feel any easier. “Promise me you’ll be more careful. I don’t want this baby to have to know you through pictures.”
Levi’s expression softens and he buries both hands in my hair, forcing my head back as he looks me square in the eyes. “I promise, that’s never going to happen.”
“Swear?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he says, making the sign of the cross over his right pectoral.
My elbow jerks, jabbing him in the side. “You’re such an ass.”
He’s still chuckling when Doctor Sommers enters the room. The instant she lays eyes on Levi, her face freezes and her step falters. It’s a split second awareness and then she recovers herself, walking fluidly into the room and drawing a rolling stool over to sit on. “So, this must be Dad.”
“That’s me.” Immediately, Levi takes a step forward and extends his hand, giving hers two firm pumps before stepping back and taking a seat in the visitor’s chair.
I have to give her credit. Doctor Sommers obviously knows who Levi is, but she’s trying hard to reign it in and act professional. As she looks over my chart and asks questions about how I’m feeling, I can’t help but wonder if her interest in Levi is because she’s a soccer fan or if she’s been following the news.
The thought is pushed aside when she asks me to lay back and lift my shirt so she can take some measurements. Levi sits forward in his chair, watching with rapt interest.
“Baby’s head is down,” the doctor comments as she feels around, pressing her fingertips in slightly to get a feel of the baby’s position. “His bottom is up here,” she says, rubbing just below my ribs. “Are you noticing it’s harder to breathe than normal?”
“Just a little extra pressure,” I tell her. It’s nothing too uncomfortable. Not like the occasional foot under the ribcage. That shit sucks.
“Your measurements are good. Everything appears to be right on track. I’d estimate him to be around two pounds right now.”
“Is that good?” Levi asks.
“It’s average. He’s right on target for this stage.”
There’s a soft knock on the door just before it opens and a young girl comes in rolling a cart laden with heavy machinery.
“Ah, just in time.” The doctor grins. “Would you like to see your baby, Dad?”
“Fuck yeah.” Levi’s eyes widen. “Excuse my French.”
“Ignore him,” I speak up. “He isn’t housebroken yet.”
Levi narrows his eyes playfully as the tech sets up her equipment and squirts some clear jelly on my abdomen. After a few moments of rolling the wand around, a whooshing sound fills the room.
“And there’s your baby,” she grins while studying the grainy black and white image on the monitor.
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and roll down my temples, catching in my hair. My little peanut.
“My God. It’s so fast. Is that normal?” Levi asks, referring to the rapid heartbeat.
“Yep. He’s perfect,” the tech says.
After printing off a couple of pictures, she leaves us to finish our appointment. I finish wiping the jelly off with some Kleenex and Levi helps me down from the table. There is nothing but love in his eyes and a giddy grin on his face. I’m so damn glad he came.
To me, Doctor Sommers says, “You’re all set, Vista. Continue taking your vitamins. If you exercise, which I recommend, don’t overdo it. Other than that, keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll see you back here next month.”
I nod, eager to leave so I can steal some time alone with Levi. I’m sure he’ll be leaving again soon.
On the way out, the doctor stops Levi with a hand on his arm. “This is a little unorthodox, I’m sure, but can I get your autograph. My son is a huge fan of yours. You’ve practically been a household name since he was ten.” Her smile is tight, hopeful.
“Absolutely,” Levi says cheerfully. Taking the pen and paper she offers, he scribbles something down that takes way longer than a simple signature, and hands it back. “Tell him I said hi.”
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, and for a brief moment, I question who the bigger fan is: her or her son.
“That was very nice of you,” I tell Levi as we exit the building.
“Eh, comes with the job.” He shrugs. His hand falling between us, he takes mine and laces our fingers together. “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Biting my bottom lip, I say, “Depends on what your plans are.”
With his head tilted, Levi slants me a mischievous smile.
27
Levi follows me home on his motorcycle. At least now I know how he got here so fast. Although I wish he wouldn’t race around on that thing. It makes me uneasy knowing that he drove miles on that and wasn’t exactly safe about it.
As soon as we pull up to my cramped apartment complex, I see the merciless paparazzi lurking in the shadows. They think they’re being covert? They couldn’t be any more obvious. Usually I have enough time to get out of the car and attempt to get by them before they notice, but not this time. As soon they catch the sound of Levi’s motorcycle pulling in behind my cab—Levi won’t allow me to ride with him in my current “condition”—they leap up and rush over.
Lights pop as they frantically snap pictures. Mainly of Levi. Apparently, I’m chopped liver with him around.
Levi ignores their request for comment and shoves his way over to me, opening my door and helping me out. He keeps my body close to his, hunching his shoulders to shield me as best he can as we slowly carve a path to my building.
“Move please,” Levi requests tightly when they begin getting too close for comfort. “You all need to back off,” he warns.
A guy with a goatee and thick, coke bottle glasses shoves his camera right into our faces and the lens fires several times in quick succession. Raising my hand, I shield my eyes from the blinding light. Levi, on the other hand, grabs hold of the camera and smashes it back in the guy’s face with a vicious grunt.
“I said back the fuck off! Don’t you understand English?”
Gripping tight to the back of his leather jacket, I cling to Levi. It’s never been this crazy. Normally, they at least respect my space enough to give me some. But this? This is a madhouse.
We’re almost to the door when I glimpse movement on my left. A middle-aged balding man rushes forward, presumably to catch one last close-up before we’re inside. He’s so busy trying to get his shot that he doesn’t watch where he’s going.
Before I can register what’s happening and shield myself, he trips over a lip in the sidewalk and crashes straight into me.
All at once, my body slams into Levi and curls toward him, its first instinct to protect the baby. Levi’s clasp on my shoulders tightens. Then everything after that is a blur.
In a blink, I’m set aside and Levi is gone. From the shelter of the entryway, I see him leap onto the man who ran into me. He’s cursing and shouting as he takes him to the ground. The camera skitters across the sidewalk, shattering into pieces. There’s a lot of yelling and commotion as several other members of the paparazzi crowd in, some helping, some recording the action on their cameras.
My hands cover my mouth. This isn’t going to end well. I feel it like a stone in my gut.
The fight ends as quickly as it started and Levi storms over to me with fire in his eyes. Snatching my elbow, he turns me and pushes me inside.
True fear grabs hold of me as he continues maneuvering me how he likes. He doesn’t say a word, and I don’t dare speak. Menace radiates off him in thick, turbulent waves, and even though I know he would never hurt me, I’m not willing to risk it.
Levi lets go of me only long enough for me to take my keys from my purse and open the apartment door. Immediately, he crowds me inside and slams it behind us, flipping the locks with a quick snap of his wrist.
“Levi,” I breathe, at a loss for how to handle him in this state.
His breaths saw past his parted lips as he turns and stares me down, reminding me of a bull preparing to charge. Then, in three long strides, he crosses the floor and grabs me up into his arms, crushing me against his chest.
“Holy shit. Are you okay?” he breathes against my neck where he’s buried his face. I nod into his shoulder, some of the tension bleeding out of me.
His entire body is trembling. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I run my hands up and down his back, soothing him as best I can. I’ve never seen him like this before—out of control, literally shaking from fear.
“I almost killed that guy. I almost…Fuck!”
Releasing me, Levi paces the limited floor space. Stabbing his fingers through his mussed hair, he curses roundly before dropping down on the edge of the bed and hanging his head. “I fucked up,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have touched him, and now it’s going to be plastered all over the place. But when he touched you,” he says, his voice and expression strained as he lifts his head to look up at me, “I lost it. It was like something inside of me just…snapped. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone more in my life.”
Easing down onto my knees in front of him, I hold Levi’s torn gaze wanting nothing more than to rid him of that look. It’s shredding me to see him so upset. “I’m okay. We’re okay. And all of that,” I say, pointing at the window and what lay beyond it, “will be okay.”
His eyes narrow slightly as he studies me, almost as if he isn’t sure whether or not to believe me. Then, with a loud groan, he throws himself back on the bed. He lays like that for several heartbeats before asking, “Is this what it’s like for you every day? Are they always like that?”
I sense where this is going and I’m not sure I want to answer, but I know I have to. I don’t believe in lying just because it’s easier than dealing with the truth. “No,” I say softly. In fact, I suspect that the only reason things got as heated as they did was because of Levi. He’s the one they really want. He’s the story.
The shrill ringing of the phone snaps at my attention and I hurry to answer it, eager to tell whoever is on the other line to call back later. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Vista Marquis?”
I don’t recognize the woman’s voice. Figuring it’s a telemarketer, I cringe and reply, “Yes, this is she.”
Immediately, the woman launches into an excited speech. “Is your relationship with Mr. Black the real deal, or is this a publicity stunt like some are saying. Are you being paid—”
I slam the phone down and step back like the thing just caught fire.
Levi’s head turns on the bed and his brows knit together. “Who was that? Was that them?”
I don’t want to say the word, but he can see just from the look on my face that his suspicions are correct.
“Fuuuuuck,” he drags out through clenched teeth. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he shouts, “Fuck!”
“Levi, it will be okay. Everything will—”
“If you say ‘okay’ one more time, I’m going to lose my shit, Vista.” Shooting up, I shrink back as he resumes pacing the floor. “Me being here is a problem. I’ve just made things worse for you. I never should have come back here.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I listen to him talk. No. No! The last thing I want is for him to go away again. “Levi, stop.” Carefully, I approach him and block his path. “Don’t say that. I want you here. I need you here with me.”
His tranquil blue eyes, now filled with remorse and anger, hold mine prisoner. The longer I stare into them, the more I realize that there’s something else in there too—finality. He’s already made his choice. He’s leaving.
Tears cascade down my face when I realize that there’s nothing I’ll be able to say or do to make him change his mind. I’ve already lost him.
“As long as I’m here, they’re never going to leave you alone. I can’t stay here knowing that there might be a repeat of tonight, and it would be my fault. I won’t put you two in danger like that.”
“Please don’t do this. Please,” I beg, my voice nothing more than a weak whisper.
He examines the destruction on my face and releases a pained groan. Drawing me back into his arms, Levi holds me tightly. I grab onto him with everything I’ve got and close my eyes, inhaling the scent of exhaust and leather. I won’t let him go. I won’t.
But Levi’s stronger than I am. With firm hands, he pries me loose and sets me away. “I’m sorry, princess, but I have to go. If I stay here, I’m going to end up killing someone and the last thing either of us wants or needs is for me to end up in prison. It’s better this way.”
Staring at the floor through bleary eyes, I refuse to look at him. How can I, when he’s ripping my heart out? “Don’t do this,” I choke out. I know we can make this work. He’s overreacting. If he’d just take some time to calm down, he’d see that. I could make him see that.
“It’s already done,” he says gravely.
The finality in his statement sends a surge of anger rushing through me, igniting my blood. “So that’s it? You’re just going to walk away?”
“I’m leaving, but we’re not done. Vista,” he says when I still refuse to spare him a glance. His boots reenter my line of vision and he grasps my chin, forcing my head back. Those blue eyes are fierce when he repeats, “We’re not done. It won’t be like this forever. I’ll come back when all of this blows over, when they’ve got something else to focus their energy on.”
Jerking my chin from his grasp, I cross my arms over my chest and steel myself against everything I’m feeling. It’s the only way I’m going to keep from crumpling to the floor. Then I say something that I will probably regret for the rest of my life.
“If you walk out that door,” I say with a voice that shakes, “then don’t bother coming back.”
His hands ball into fists at his sides and the muscles in his jaw flex, but Levi says nothing. I can hear his heavy breaths, feel the words that are left unspoken hovering between us, and as much as my insides are screaming for a different outcome, we both know how this is going to play out.
My eyes close of their own accord as his hand lifts and the feel of his calloused fingertips traces the side of my face.
I know the instant he walks away from me. The air stirs, growing colder in his wake, and then I hear the faint click of the door as he walks out of my life.
All at once, my heart seizes and my lungs stop functioning. A hiccupping sob rips from my chest and I stumble to the bed, falling down on top of the blankets and curling into myself for I don’t know how long. I don’t know anything anymore. It feels like I’m dying, and right now, I want to. I just want to close my eyes and never wake up so I don’t have to feel this way, so I don’t have to face the horrible truth that, for the second time in my life, a man I love has chosen to walk away.