He tilts his shoulder in a half-shrug and walks into the living room, placing the flowers in the middle of the coffee table and sitting down. “I’ve gotta say, I’m unhappy you kept this from me, but I’ll forgive you … for the sake of our family.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Does jail make you imagine things? I take a step closer to look him in the eyes. He has to be high to consider this to be a good idea. “Are you on drugs?”
“No, Willow, I’m not on drugs,” he mocks in annoyance.
“You need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving until we talk about our dead baby.”
“There is no our baby, dumbass.”
My breathing labors, and my fist itches to connect with his face. He just referred to my baby as dead. He gets up and struggles to grab my hand, but I fight him off.
“Leave before I call the cops. You know this baby isn’t yours. I haven’t touched you in almost a year.”
“I don’t care. I’ll take on the responsibility if it’s another man’s because I love you.” He arrogantly looks around the room. “I don’t see anyone here to help you. What’d you do? Get knocked up by some random dude while traveling with Stella?” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “You know, that’s why I said I didn’t trust you working with her. You’d get mad at me for cheating when I knew you were doing the same.”
That’s a lie. He was always jealous of my job.
“Fuck you. Do you honestly believe I’d ever have a baby with you? You almost killed a child.”
He points to my stomach. “I want a paternity test on the one that’s still alive.”
God, could his words be any more horrible?
“Excuse me? You admitted the baby wasn’t yours seconds ago.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with this asshole today. Or ever. “Screw you. I just had a miscarriage, for fuck’s sake, and you thought it would be a good idea to fly thousands of miles and harass me?”
We look at the door at the sound of a knock. Brett goes to answer it before I can stop him. I make it at the same time Dallas walks in, bumping into Brett on his way, and his attention bounces between Asshole and me.
“Did I miss something?” he asks.
“Stella’s old bodyguard?” Brett spits with a bitter laugh. “The fuck is he doing here?”
“The better question is, why are you here?” Dallas fires back, moving into his space.
“Stop!” I hiss. “I have neighbors!” I gesture for Dallas to close the door behind him. I can’t lose my apartment because of this.
Brett points to my stomach again. “This is my baby, and I’ve come to take care of my family.”
Dallas looks straight at me. “What is he talking about?”
“How do you even know about the baby?” I finally ask Brett.
“My father told me after your mom asked the church to pray for you. Your mom wouldn’t tell me where you were, so I took matters into my own hands. I figured you were still working for Stella, stalked her social media, and found you.” He shrugs like that’s not creepy at all and then throws his arm out toward a fuming Dallas. “You never answered my question. What are you doing here, bro?”
“Don’t fucking call me bro,” Dallas snarls.
He smirks. “Jesus, fuck, this is the dude you’re banging? This is the dude trying to take you and my baby away from me?”
Dallas takes a step closer. “You better get the fuck out of here before I throw you out.”
“So, you were cheating on your dying wife with her? You guys have been fucking around this entire time.” He laughs. “This is fucking perfect. You’re not such a good man, are you? You walked around like you were this perfect husband who then left his job to take care of his dying wife, but you were cheating on her and fucking my girl.” He glares at me. “You’re nothing but a lying cunt.”
I jump when Dallas punches Brett in the mouth. Brett pushes him back. Dallas wraps his hand around Brett’s neck and traps him against the wall.
“What the fuck, dude?” Brett struggles to breathe out, wiggling to get free. “I’m pressing charges!”
“You’re not even supposed to be here!” I yell. “Call the cops, please. Let them take you back to where you belong—behind bars.”
We don’t have to call the cops because they knock on my door seconds later.
“Blue Beech Police Department!” one yells.
Dallas moves his hand from Brett’s throat to open the door, and Brett dramatically collapses on the floor, holding his throat and fake choking.
Two officers step in. A young guy and an older gentleman.
“Hi, I’m Officer Barge,” the older man says.
The younger cop tips his head forward. “Officer Layne.” He surveys the room. “We received a noise complaint about two men fighting.” His eyes cast a look straight to Dallas. “What’s going on, man?”
“He punched me!” Brett screams, stumbling to his feet and sticking out his chest. He’s a badass now that there’s protection. “I want him put in jail.”
“I punched him,” Dallas says. “Because he was harassing her. She’s pregnant with my baby, and he was giving her trouble. He’s out on bail, and he shouldn’t even be out of California.”
“That true?” Officer Barge asks.
“No,” Brett lies.
Officer Layne holds out his hand. “Let me see some ID.”
Brett flinches. “Are you going to ask him for ID? He’s the one who assaulted me!”
“Already know who Dallas is,” he answers and then tilts his head my way. “I know who she is. Now, how ’bout you let me get acquainted with you?”
“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m the son of a mayor in a very affluent California town.”
“Cool story, man,” Officer Layne replies. “But this ain’t California, hipster boy. I don’t care if your father is the president. Let me see some ID, or I’m going to have to bring you in for failure to cooperate.”
Brett pulls out his wallet and reluctantly hands his driver’s license over.
“I’ll go run this,” Officer Layne says while Officer Barge keeps his eyes narrowed on Brett.
The officer and Dallas make small talk until Officer Layne comes back.
“It appears you broke the stipulations of your bail. We’re shipping you back to that affluent town of yours where you can enjoy your time in a cell.” His upper lip snarls in disgust. “I can’t believe they even gave you bail for what you did.”
Brett throws every name at me while they cuff him and force him out of my apartment. “He doesn’t love you!” he screams before the door shuts. “He’ll always love that dead bitch!”
Dallas stalks out of my apartment, ready for round two, but the police officer stops him from getting to Brett.
“Let it go, man,” Officer Layne says. “He isn’t worth it.” He looks at me. “Congratulations on the baby, you two.”
Dallas slaps him on the back. “Thanks, man.”