Chapter 4 #2
“Kyra!”
The very familiar blonde continued to head in the opposite direction. She must not have heard him.
He curved his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Kyra!”
When she didn’t stop, he started walking again, this time faster, while continuing to shout her name, turning everyone’s head but hers. The damn crowds were so damn thick and loud, it could be that his shouts were getting lost.
He picked up his pace to a light jog, which sucked. First, he hated to run for any reason other than escaping the fucking pigs. Second, he wore heavy biker boots.
Why the fuck did she have a kid with her? Was it her nephew? Was she babysitting? Did she become a nanny?
Last time he saw her, she had a decent job. Did she give it up when she disappeared?
He had too many questions and no goddamn answers.
But he was determined to get them, so he continued to chase after her.
“Kyra!” For fuck’s sake, he could hardly get that one out because he was getting winded. He should’ve done more cardio while at Fayette instead of just lifting weights.
Next time.
No, fuck that. There wasn’t going to be next time.
“Goddamn it, Kyra!”
That got a few glares directed his way, along with one mother covering her child’s ears.
If she didn’t stop, he was soon going to collapse. But he was gaining on her, despite him having to dodge and weave the people blocking his way.
When the fuck had he ever chased goddamn pussy?
Never.
He shouldn’t be chasing it now, either.
This was the last damn time he was calling out, then he was giving up, getting a well-needed beer, lighting a fucking joint, and smoking it until he forgot she ever existed.
“Kyra!”
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she spotted him.
He knew because her eyes went wide and she began to speed walk, practically dragging the little boy along with her.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” he screamed at the sky.
Suddenly, she turned left between two carnival game trailers. He might be able to cut her off. He ducked between the trailers and came out into another row and stopped dead.
She couldn’t pretend she didn’t see him since they were now standing face-to-face. But holy shit, he hadn’t seen her in too fucking long.
He took two deep breaths to control his breathing and let his gaze rake over her.
She had filled out. Her hips were now wider, her tits even bigger.
She looked damn good; even better than the last time.
A few years ago, her straight blonde hair fell halfway down her back, now it was just past her shoulders. She must have been spending some time in the sun since the smattering of freckles over her nose were more noticeable than the last time he saw her, the day she left.
“Leave me alone, Zeke.”
“For fuck’s sake, Kyra. Just gimme a minute of your time.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause you owe me that.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t owe you anything. If anything, you owe me an apology and to respect my wishes.”
“You disappeared.”
“Zeke, now is not the time.”
Not the time? What other opportunity would he have to talk to her? She could easily ghost him like she did four years ago. “You fuckin’ left without a goddamn word.”
Her expression tightened and her gaze flicked down to the boy. “I didn’t think words were necessary since it was pretty obvious why I did. You had a club girl on her knees sucking your…your…eggplant.”
“Kyra.”
She pushed her palm out at him. “Don’t. I didn’t have anything to say then. I certainly don’t have anything to say now.”
“Could’ve let me explain.”
“I know how sucking eggplants works, Zeke. No explanation needed.”
She certainly did.
“Mommy?” The boy tugged on her shorts.
The shorts that showed off her smooth legs. The legs that used to wrap around his head when he was eating her out. Or wrapped around his hips when he was burying himself deep.
Hold up…
Mommy?
Zeke’s eyes bounced between the two. His face was painted like some sort of superhero so it was hard to see if the kid looked like Kyra, but it was easy to see that his hair was a dark brown and his eyes were blue.
Her voice softened when she asked, “Yes, baby?”
“Is he your fwend?”
“No, buddy, he’s not.”
The kid’s brow wrinkled. “Who is he?”
“A mistake from my past.”
Ouch.
Zeke lifted his gaze and locked it with hers, then jerked his chin toward the boy. “I got the same question. Who is he?”
“My son.”
“Your son.”
“Yes, Zeke, my son. I actually had a baby and I’m now raising him. That’s what I mean by my son.”
It took two people to make a crotch goblin.
The blood drained from his face. Holy shit.
He stared at the boy with the dark brown hair like his and the blue eyes like his. His chest got tight and he searched the kid’s features in an attempt to see more similarities, but the face paint was like a fucking mask.
But could it be?
No fuckin’ way. Was this why she bolted in a damn hurry? “How old is he?”
Her gaze swung away, and when it swung back, her mouth was firmly set and her nostrils flared. “Why do you care?”
Why couldn’t she just answer the damn question? “He mine?”
She rolled her blue eyes.
Why couldn’t she give him a simple fucking answer? “He’s mine, ain’t he?”
“Everything isn’t about you, Zeke. You think the world revolves around you, but news flash, it doesn’t. Anyway, I am so done with this conversation.”
Fuck that. “I ain’t.”
“We’re none of your business, Zeke. Have the day you deserve.” She once again tugged on the kid’s hand and stepped around him. “Come on, buddy, we need to go.”
Zeke scraped fingers through his hair. “Kyra. Jesus.”
She stopped abruptly and spun on him with flushed cheeks and eyes as hard as diamonds. “You cheat. You’re an ex-con. I don’t need that in my life, Zeke. I need steady. Especially now that I have a son to raise. I owe that to him. You’re…”
“Unsteady,” he finished for her.
“You’re a freaking mess. You always have been. I saw it much clearer once I saw your eggplant deep down Bunny’s throat,” she hissed.
He’d admit, that moment wasn’t his finest, but damn, it was just a blowjob from a sweet butt. Everyone knew sweet butts didn’t count.
Of course, he’d keep that opinion to himself.
“You know how to wound me, woman.”
“Wound you? Again, it’s all about you. You ripped my heart out. How big do you think that gaping wound is—was?”
“Got carried away.” Drinking.
She barked out a dry laugh, shook her head and began to walk away again.
He followed behind her, his eyes glued to her swinging ass.
Having a kid definitely agreed with her.
But he wasn’t going to let this go until he had the truth.
He considered the kid’s features. Since he and Kyra both had blue eyes, that might mean shit. But combined with that hair color…
His gut was screaming at him to find out.
But fuck, did he really want to know if the kid was his? At this point, he could get away scot-free.
No child support. No parental responsibilities.
He’d continue to live his life like he liked to live it. Wild and free with his knees in the breeze.
A kid could change all that.
Having a kid was like throwing an anchor overboard. It could drag you underwater.
He should know. He had been one of those anchors.
And depending on who you asked, he still was.