RIVAL: An Enemies to Lovers Why Choose Country Romance

Chapter 40

“Idon’t want any fucking part of that kid, especially if it’s got Hughes’ blood in its veins. When you manage to push it out, I’ll submit to a test and if it turns out to be mine, all you’ll get is money. Nothing more.”

My words ring on repeat in my head, but I haven’t calmed down enough to regret them.

Not yet.

What I do regret is my last words to Edith. “Get the fuck out.”

My lip curls in a sneer when I consider her full name.

Edith Hughes.

Fury fills me again and I wish I had more shit to throw in here, but I’ve already destroyed everything that’s not valuable to me. I’m being ripped apart by this, and I know I need to go home.

Did she play me?

I refuse to believe that I didn’t tell her the name of the man, her father, who essentially killed Julia. Which means the woman I’ve fucking fallen for is a liar. One who looks and acts as if she were born from a saint, but turns out it was the devil all along.

A devil named Clayborn fucking Hughes.

Feeling sick, I wrench my door open, fueled by the crack when the knob hits the wall, and storm out of my building. Jennice is sitting rigidly in her chair, but neither of us say a word to each other as I pass her by.

Tomorrow. I’ll apologize for my behavior she was forced to witness tomorrow. Today, I need to bale some goddamn hay.

As I make the few minutes’ drive to my parents’ house, I can’t help but feel as if I’ve been tricked. To be honest, I’d be willing to bet I’m not the father of that baby, but there is a chance. When she pulled away and my condom slipped off, it seemed as though it was an accident. But was it?

Dismissing that almost as quickly as I think it, I can confidently say it was unplanned. The sex, the storm, the car showing up and startling us. All of it was too perfectly timed for it to be anything other than an unfortunate series of events.

But withholding her name from me? I don’t see how that could have been anything but intentional. And now, the possibility of being forever linked to that fucking killer makes me feel ill.

Whispers that Edith shouldn’t bear fault for who her father is filters in, but I shove them deep. Not today. Today, my world was just thrown upside down and I’m the sucker who got kicked in the gut.

This is just another reminder that Clayborn Hughes will always play a major role in my life.

Normally, I speak with my parents when I’m this far into my head, but today’s revelations are too much to handle. I feel their eyes on me as I storm to the barn and start throwing around equipment, quickly working up a sweat as I organize shit that doesn’t need it, and it does nothing to ease the pit widening further and further in my chest, tearing me apart slowly.

Hours go by and nothing. Nothing is changing!

My phone rings a few times, but I ignore it. All my calls go unanswered. There is no crisis big enough for me to have even an inkling of care for it right now.

I know I’m being selfish, but Jesus, I need to get rid of this rage somehow. Temptation rides me hard as I consider going over to their house and beating Clayborn to within an inch of his life and maybe toss a few more words toward Edith. Something turning deep within me keeps my feet within the barn.

Finally, when my phone rings three times in a row, I yank it out and without checking who the caller is, I answer.

“What?”

My breaths are heavy and I close my eyes as I realize I’ve just essentially snapped at Ruth.

“Well, that’s quite the greeting, young man.” Before I can apologize, she keeps talking. “Listen, do you have a moment to chat? I find myself in a situation I don’t quite know how to handle.”

She whispers into the phone and God help me, I’m actually thankful for the distraction.

“Sorry for barking at you. Is everything okay? Josiah’s fine?” Normally I’d get a friendly brush off, but when I hear whispering behind her, my concern grows deeper, bordering on alarm. “Ruth? What’s going on?”

A distorted exhale of air crackles in my ear before she speaks again.

“I wouldn’t say everything is okay. I’ve got your friend over here and she’s not in a great state. Josiah and I can’t get her to talk other than her muttering about needing to leave. You and Edith have become good friends since—”

Everything in me turns cold until I can no longer listen to another word.

“I’m fucking damned no matter what, aren’t I? There’s no escaping that entire fucking family.” Her gasp at my foul language doesn’t cause me even an ounce of guilt. “I’m gonna go ahead and tell you, if that girl wants to leave, then I say good riddance. I don’t want to hear another word about her or her problems.”

“But Jaxon! You’re her—”

“If you want to discuss the build or any other gossip around town, ask about my family, or even the weather, I’ll be happy to have that conversation. But another word about her and I’m hanging up.”

“I don’t understand, Jaxon. She’s hur—”

Refusing to hear another word, I hang up my phone. Ruth is more than welcome to discuss all of those options I laid out, but right now, Edith isn’t my problem. She may be in about nine months, but that’s far enough away that I can push it aside for now.

My phone starts ringing again, and seeing Ruth’s number, I send the call to voicemail. Over and over again, she continues to call, then I get an extra notification indicating she’s left a message. I’ll delete it tomorrow.

The more the calls ring through, the less good running my body into the ground is doing. Yelling into the space, I throw the rake I had just picked up until is slams against the opposite wall.

“Jaxon, honey.” Mom’s voice jerks me into the present and I spin to face her.

She’s uneasily watching me, worry and a bit of fear etched in her down-turned lips.

“I can’t talk about it right now,” I croak out. “Tomorrow.”

Nodding once, she whispers, “Tomorrow. You leavin’ or staying for dinner?”

“I have to go.” Walking to her, I press a fast kiss to her cheek, then squeeze her shoulder as I leave.

Alcohol. That’s what I need right now.

I’ll sleep in my fucking truck bed if I have to. Give my keys to the bartender so I don’t risk driving, but I’m going to get myself piss drunk and forget everything relating to the name Hughes.

The calls from Ruth end shortly after I leave, but they pick up again just after the bartender drops my second whiskey in front of me.

With a growl, I slam my phone on the table and thumb through the notifications to silence just her number for the time being. Then, because I’m already feeling warm from the liquor, I go to Edith’s number and block it. My finger hovers over the option to delete her contact, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

There’s still a chance the kid is mine, so at some point I’ll need to unblock her and wait for word that she’s given birth and I’m due at the clinic for a paternity test.

A girlfriend from years ago had a pregnancy scare, and I thought my life was going to change, but it ended up being a false alarm.

Sure, I’ve always considered starting a family, but not like this. Not with so much baggage surrounding it and feeling as if I’ll never be able to look at the mother again.

Briefly, I wonder who the other two men are that she slept with and how they took the news. If she even told them yet. Of course she’d come to me first.

With a sigh, I deflate.

Of course she’d come to me first.

Before anything, I was her friend. I feel an uncomfortable sickness which hardens me as I realize she’s been open and honest since day one about everything that didn’t matter.

Waving down the bartender, I throw my glass back and let the burn to my gut distract me from softening my thoughts toward her. Tonight,I want to be enraged and wallow. I’m allowed to fucking grieve, goddamnit!

A few more people enter the bar over the next few hours, and I’ve slowed down my drinks now as the cloud of a heavy buzz settles over me. I’m not paying attention to anyone or anything, including my thoughts, and for the first time today, I feel the rage trickling away.

This time, when a tiny thought flows in, I don’t push it away.

Did I love her?Was I wrong to react the way I did?

“You! I need to talk to you!”

The shout jerks me from my thoughts and I watch as Jennice’s uncle, Griffin, stands up, about to be confronted by a grumpy as fuck Mason Cooper.

Mason has his hand out, pointing at Griffin’s chest, and the alcohol causes a bubble of laughter to build from absolutely nowhere within me.

There’s an older guy who works at the feed store sitting at the next table over, so I lean toward him. “This ought to be good.” Pointing at Mason, I whisper too loudly, “That guy is a complete dick, and that guy.” I point at Griffin. “Hangs around with the wrong sort of folks.”

I grin widely when my fellow audience member chuckles softly, both of us not wanting to draw attention from the fight about to go down.

Fuck. I missed something because now their heads are close, and they’re angrily whisper yelling at each other.

“What the hell happened? What’d I miss?”

With a much louder laugh, my partner in crime lifts his glass and tilts it toward the two men arguing. “That one told the one hollerin’ that he needs to back off. Then the first one demanded to know what happened today—don’t know what he’s talkin’ about—and the second one said, ‘Did ya know she’s pregnant?’ and now they’re in each other’s faces.”

The glass in my hand slips from my fingers and smashes on the table. All eyes are drawn from the two bickering assholes at the bar and over to me. Even the two of them pause long enough to glance over, but only for a moment before they’re back at it.

“You alright, man?”

Ignoring him, I shove my chair back and march over to the two who I know have to be speaking about Edith.

Stopping only a few feet away, my chest is heaving as my head bounces between the two of them. Eventually, they notice and turn, Griffin with a raised brow and Mason with a snarl.

“The fuck do you—”

“Who the fuck are you talking about being pregnant? And if it’s Edith Hughes,” I spit out her name like it’s a curse before continuing. “You better shut your goddamn mouth right now. Nobody wants to hear about the town—”

That’s when a fist flies and connects with my jaw.

I never saw it coming.