More guilt rains over me. But I give her a casual shrug in return.
I need to leave. Now.
Heidi opens her mouth as if she’s about to protest again, but Alexa shouts, “Mine!”
Heidi’s attention is drawn to her daughter, giving me the chance to escape.
In the hallway, I close my eyes for a second.
The hospital scent fills my nose and propels me toward the exit.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Teller
Murphy: You won’t believe who’s back.
Back where?
I haven’t even finished typing out a response when the loud buzz of Murphy’s bike echoes down my driveway.
“The fuck?” I grumble, tossing off the covers and sliding to the edge of the bed.
Behind me, Charlotte groans and burrows under her pillow. I glance at the clock on my nightstand, then reach over and nudge her leg. “It’s almost noon, Sunshine.”
She answers by yanking the covers up higher. It’s been almost three months and she still seems to be in a funk I can’t shake her from.
“I’m going to see what Murphy wants and start breakfast.”
“Okay,” she murmurs from somewhere underneath the comforter.
I hurry to jump into a pair of jeans and snag a T-shirt, throwing it over my shoulder on my way downstairs. Murphy’s heavy footsteps thump over the porch outside. I twist the deadbolt and open the front door before he has a chance to knock.
“What’s up?” I ask, stepping aside to allow him in while yanking the T-shirt over my head.
“Christ, I would’ve waited five seconds for you to cover yourself.” He shields his eyes with his hand. “No one needs to see that mess this early in the afternoon.”
I’m not in the mood to be baited. “You’re free to leave.” I turn and head toward the kitchen, confident he’ll follow.
The door clicks closed and he’s quiet for a few seconds while he stops to leave his boots by the door. Out of respect for Charlotte, not me.
Even though my back is facing the entrance while I start the coffee, I sense his energy behind me. Eager. Brimming with excitement to be the first one to share some news.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my interest—yet—I don’t say anything while I add water to the coffee maker.
“Did you get my text?” He steps next to me and flings open one of the cabinet doors and grabs a coffee mug, plunking it on the counter.
“Who said you could have my coffee?”
“Pfft.” He opens the refrigerator and rummages through it for a carton of creamer. “You’re low on half-and-half.”
“You could bring some with you one of these days, you know. Since you help yourself to it often enough.”
“That would be nice of me, wouldn’t it.” He sets the container on the counter.
I peek out the kitchen window. The chickens are running loose again. I’ll have to get them in a minute. “Where’s Heidi?”
“At Rock’s.” He waves his hand in the direction of the clubhouse. “Guess who’s back?”
“Back where?”
“Here. In New York.”
“The Jets.”
“What? No.” He shakes his head, his frustration with me obvious. “They’re a terrible team anyway. Jersey can have ’em.”
My mouth quirks. Time to throw him a bone. “All right. Who?”
Now it’s his turn to fuck with me. He lifts his chin. “Why’s your coffee maker so fucking slow?”
I take an exaggerated look around the room. “Does this look like a Starbucks to you?”
“No. I’d have some coffee in my cup by now if it was.”
“Doubtful,” I mutter, searching for two more mugs. “All right, so what has your panties in a bunch this morning? Tell me. I’m dying to know who’s back in the great State of New York.”
“Lilly.”
Well, fuck. My hand stops mid-air and the cup I’m holding clatters onto the counter. “Seriously? Where’s she been all this time?”
“Don’t know. But…” He takes a long, dramatic pause. “She didn’t return alone.”
“She married or something? Z won’t be thrilled.” I’m already losing interest in this conversation. Lilly couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t want to be Z’s ol’ lady when she ghosted his ass. Why anyone, except Hope, gives a shit about her return is beyond me.
“He’d probably prefer that,” Blake says. “She has a kid.”
“A kid?” A sick feeling settles in my stomach. “Or Z’s kid?”
He wags his finger in my face. “Ding, ding, ding!”
I slap his hand away. “Knock that off.” Jesus, who knew being business partners with Wrath would mean Blake would pick up so many of his annoying habits?
“Hope said the kid looks just like Z. She arranged for Z and Lilly to meet up at the park. Lilly didn’t deny it, I guess.”
“Damn.” Z’s gotta be hurting over this. “How old is the kid?”
Blake shrugs. “I dunno. Whenever we saw Lilly last, minus nine months?”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yup. I saw Z just before he left, and he seemed rattled.” He shrugs. “I gave him one of our car seats just in case.”
The more details he gives, the sicker I feel. It’s too close to my own situation. Or maybe it’s nothing like my situation. Z’s kid is young enough that he won’t remember not having his dad in his life the first few years, whereas I’ve got thirty-some years of parental damage to unpack. Either way, it leaves a sourness burning in my stomach.
“What’s he going to do?” I ask.
“Get to know his kid, I guess.” He shrugs. “You know how he felt about her.”
“Did Hope know about the kid?”
“No way.” He immediately shuts down that question. “She’s hopping mad about the whole thing.”
“She probably feels guilty. Z wouldn’t have met Lilly if it wasn’t for her.”
He cocks his head. “Not cool. You better not say that to Hope, either.”
“Why? Is Rock gonna deck me?”
“No, I will.”
I give him a quick shove sideways. “Love to see you try, brother.”
“Now, boys, what did I tell you about fighting before coffee?” Charlotte shuffles into the kitchen and yawns.
Blake runs his concerned gaze over Charlotte’s bathrobe and sleepy appearance. “Are you okay?”
“Late night.” She reaches up and ruffles her hand over Blake’s hair. “What’s up, my ginger twinny?”
He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair, trying to straighten the mess Charlotte made of it.
“He sped over here to share some hot gossip like a little ol’ church grandma,” I say, pouring coffee into her cup.
“Ooo.” Charlotte accepts the mug and adds creamer. “Do tell.”
“Lilly’s back,” Blake says.
“Hope’s friend? The one Z liked?” she asks.
“Yup.” Blake reaches for the coffeepot but I bat his hand away. “She’s got a kid too. Z’s.”