Chapter Twenty-One
Abel
Storming back into my office, I slam the clipboard down. “Fuck!” I yell, not caring who hears me. She was fucking right there, and I walked out on her instead of making her come back to my place, holding her hostage and demanding she tell me the truth.
I don’t give a fuck what she says, that dude is not the father of that baby.
They both said they weren’t a couple, plus he was giving off some major same sex orientational vibes.
I’m the father.
And I’m going to prove it.
Collecting a sample of tissue from her placenta will be easy. I’ll have it ordered when she comes back for her ultrasound.
My mind is made up, and I don’t fucking care how much trouble I can get into for doing something like this, but I have to know.
That woman has haunted my dreams, my every waking hour, and every single minute in between. There isn’t much time where thoughts of her don’t occupy my mind, and I was going to find her sooner rather than later.
I knew from the moment I set eyes on her that she was going to be it for me.
I can’t believe after all this time, I’ve finally found her.
She has no idea, but now that I’ve got her, she’s mine.
And I’ll never let her go.
“Um, Abel?” Em says, poking her head inside my office. “Care to tell me what the hell happened back there?
A dry, “No.” Is all I say because I don’t want to talk about it.
“You don’t have to be a dick about it, but if I read the situation correctly… You guys left things on bad terms, and now she’s pregnant. Something tells me you didn’t know, just like you don’t know if you’re the father or not.”
“Thanks, Em, for your impeccable observations that no one asked for.”
“Fuck you, Abel.” She says, storming off.
Great, just what I needed. Someone else fucking pissed off with me.
Groaning, I toss my head into my fucking hands, feeling defeated.
I’m not sure how much time passes as I just sit here until I feel my phone vibrate against my hip.
Fishing it out, looking at the caller, I blow out a deeply annoyed breath. Another person I don’t have the fucking patience to deal with today.
“Santiago, what can I do for you?”
“Abel, how are you?”
“Let’s cut the small talk, what is it?”
He pauses before he says, “Diamondhead of the Diamondbacks says he’s got a lead on Clive’s killer.” Now he has my attention.
“What?” After all this time. “Tell me everything.”
I hear rustling in the background. “Why don’t we discuss this over dinner. Meet me at Huntington’s tonight at seven.”
“Fine.” I hang up before he can say anything more. If it doesn’t pertain to Clive or business, there’s nothing more for us to discuss.
I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t need no new friends.
There were only two things I needed, to find Clive’s killer and win Ivy over.
The need to know why she left just like Courtney did, eats away at me like an animal clawing at my chest where my heart used to be. Clive’s death changed me, and I’ll be damned if I let this shit eat me alive without knowing why.
Pressing the intercom on my desk phone, I give Emily a ring. “Em, what’s the rest of my day look like?”
“I’m sure you can pull out your trusty notebook and find out for yourself.” She grunts.
“Look, I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
“Well you did and it hurt. Figure it out. I’m done for the day.” She says, cutting the line. A minute or so later, I hear the door slam shut as she leaves.
Fucking hell, I really fucked up.
Ivy has really gotten under my skin, and I’m taking it out on everyone else. Heading to Emily’s desk, I get the folders from today’s appointments, shifting through until I find her file.
Ivy Huntington, age twenty-two, half black/half caucasian… Blah, blah, blah, let me skip down to the information I need the most.
Her phone number and address.
I’m sure this breaches all kinds of patient/doctor confidentiality, but I don’t care. I need to see her.
She left me with a lot of unanswered questions and I want to know why.
I leave the office with one thing on my mind… Go to her house, barge in like the barbarian I am, and demand she speaks to me.
She’ll have no choice unless she wants me to create a scene. I’ll fucking do it, too.
If she even thinks about defying me, I’ll… Have to wait until the baby’s born to do something physical about it, because the last thing I want to do is send her into early labor.
So, instead of caveman Abel, sensible Abel is stopping at Josephine’s Sweet Delights bakery on the way to her home. She’s pregnant, how can she pass up all these goodies?
Since I have no idea what she likes, yet, I get one of everything.
“Sir, how are you going to transport all that on your bike?” The cashier asks.
“This ain’t my first rodeo, kid.” I smirk, placing what I can in my backpack and tossing it over my shoulders. Next, I take the remaining four bags and attach them to my handles. The last two, I hook on two clips on the edge of my motorcycle shield and take off.
Driving slow isn’t something I know how to do as I race down the street, hoping to God she’s home. If she’s not there, I have no problem waiting. Thankfully I plugged her address into my GPS before I took off.
The cool wind whips across my face, attempting to dull the heat traveling all over my body at the thought of seeing her again.
There’s so much I want to say to her.
To ask her.
Even though I need answers, I can’t forget that I am the President of The Anarchy Saints. Now is not the time for me to get soft behind some woman.
She’s not just any woman, she could be the one.
If that were the case, I don’t think she would have left me the way she did. I still have no clue why Courtney didn’t bother coming to our wedding or even tellin’ me it was over before I went through all the trouble of making her dream day come true. So, why would Ivy be any different?
Ten minutes later, and I’m steering my bike down West Craven Avenue. Brownstones line each side of the street making it look crowded. Vehicles line the sidewalk as people walk around, minding their own business.
Slowing down so I don’t miss it, I stop when the GPS announces my arrival. “Arrived. 521 West Craven Avenue.” I pull my bike into an empty spot in front of the building and take off my helmet.
Grabbing all the bags of goodies, I head for the front door. Before I even push the ring doorbell, someone speaks. “Hi, may I help you.”
“I need to see, Ivy, is she here?” They go radio silent as I shuffle the bags around, trying to steady my balance. “Hello? Is Ivy here or not?” I’m getting agitated from being ignored.
Seconds go by before I hear the door unlocking, and it’s being pulled open. “I’m so sorry, I was on my way down to let you in.” The guy from her doctor’s appointment says, out of breath like he just ran a mile to get here. Looking from me to all the bags I’m carrying, he says, “What’s all this?”
“Do you mind helping me with them? I brought them for Ivy.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet of you. Here, let me help.” He says, reaching out and grabbing a few. “Why don’t you come in? She’s not here though.”
“Where is she?” I ask, walking inside their home, admiring the foyer. He shuts the door, spinning around to face me, deciding if he should tell me or not. “Look, I don’t mean to come off rude or anything like that, I need to speak with her.”
“Who exactly are you besides her doctor?” He asks, a smirk now replacing the paper thin line of his lips. “You’re also the guy she banged in the bathroom of that dive club we went to.”
“Fuck me! We didn’t bang in the bathroom, we fucked, alright? Jeez.” I mumble, waiting for him to tell me where I can put this stuff. When he doesn’t, I ask, “Is there some place I can put this?”
“Over here. Whatever that is smells divine.” He moans.
“I went to Josephine’s Bakery and bought Ivy one of everything since I didn’t know what she liked. I didn’t want to come over here empty- Wait, aren’t you her boyfriend?”
His eyes widen in surprise as he tries to recover. “Yes, I am, and if you’re wondering, we had just taken a break, is why she allowed you to stick your penis inside her. Nothing more, nothing less. She said it didn’t mean anything, and we are thriving as a couple again.” He says, and I don’t know if he’s trying to convince me or himself.
“Oh, so you’re the asshole I need to kill for breaking up with her on Christmas. You’re the reason for her tears and the need to make the pain go away.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He says, holding up a hand, “I didn’t say all of that.” He lets out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair, he says, “This is all getting out of hand. You really need to talk to Ivy.”
“That’s why I’m here.” I point out.
“Duh, but she’s not. She won’t be back until later.”“Where is she?”
“She works part time at City Harvest, creates art for her showings, in addition to going to school.”
“Damn, does this girl ever stop?” I ask, even more amazed than before at how much of a hard working woman she is.
“No. It’s gotten worse since she found out she was pregnant.” Walking further into his home, he leads me to the living room, motioning for me to take a seat.
“How so?” I ask, flopping down.
“She’s got her life planned out to the T. I’m talking, graduate by the time she’s twenty-four, have a job in the art field for two years, take time off to travel and explore the world, find new art to share and inspire her to create some of her own.”
“Fuck, and a kid fits nowhere into that plan of hers.”
“Not exactly, but she’s made some adjustments to make sure it will all work out in the end.” He says, moving to a bookcase on the other side of me, drumming his fingers along some of the books sitting on the shelf. “I’m going to help her.”
“Where are her parents? Does she have any family?”
His face damn near turns green like he’s gonna be sick. “She’s gonna kill me for telling you, but I think you mean well. Her mother left, her father wasn’t there for her because he was convinced she wasn’t his kid and Miss Hattie, her grandmother, raised her.” He stops fingering those books and turns around to face me with a sad expression on his face. “She died last year, and now she’s convinced she’s all alone. More so after that asshole, Jake, broke up with her.”
“Who the fuck is Jake?”
“I’ve said too much. Please, don’t ask me any more questions because sometimes I don’t know when to shut up.” He nervously looks around like someone’s gonna jump out and grab him.
“I want something out of the deal.” I mumble, rising from the chair
“What?”
I stride to where he stands, grabbing him by the shoulders. “I want her to meet me, to talk to me. I need to know why she left me.” I take my hands off him, but my eyes never leave his as I say, “I know that baby is mine.”