Chapter 14
Fourteen
REESE
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter quietly. “What am I going to do?”
I bounce my eyes back and forth, moving them from the windshield, to the dashboard, then back to the windshield.
My lip hurts from the incessant chewing, and all I can hear is Benedict’s voice in my head on repeat: You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.
A tremble wracks my body. “Fuck,” I say again.
Malaki is quiet. We’ve been driving around Chicago for at least thirty minutes, going nowhere. He hasn’t asked a single question as I sit here mumbling under my breath like a psych patient.
“Take a left.”
Malaki puts the blinker on and does exactly what I say.
Another few minutes pass, with all sorts of scenarios racing through my mind, when I say, “Take a right.”
Again, he follows my command quietly.
He is as casual as they come, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, seemingly enjoying the silent drive toward downtown.
“Left.”
I see my apartment up ahead, along with some of the homeless dragging their belongings in stolen shopping carts with worn blankets trailing behind them.
“Park up there.” I point toward the curb and try not to think about the fact that Malaki is probably judging me up and down right now. The apartment complex is falling apart. Bricks are missing on the side of it, a piece of spray-painted plywood covering it in an attempt to keep the critters out.
As soon as the car is in park, I jolt from the passenger seat.
The sooner I lay eyes on Charleigh, the sooner I can process whatever the hell I just did with Malaki as my witness.
Fiancé. I said he was my fiancé.
“I’m so fucked,” I say as I run up the stairs.
The elevator hasn’t worked in months.
Maybe Malaki will attempt to use it and get stuck in there, then I won’t have to face the consequences of my fuckery.
I lift up the dead house plant in front of the neighbor’s door and steal my key out from below.
“Clever,” I hear from behind.
Damn, he’s fast.
My face is hot with embarrassment, so I keep my back to Malaki. The door pops open, and I rush inside, Malaki seemingly right behind me.
Zoe, still on the couch with a pencil in her hand, springs to her feet. “Why are you barreling in here–” Her mouth shuts with surprise. “Oh?”
I ignore my sister and rush toward the one bedroom that we share. I slowly push on the door and search for Charleigh.
Zoe whisper-shouts from the couch, “What’s with you? Charleigh is fine.”
My heart slows when I see her.
There, sprawled out in her hand-me-down pack-and-play, right next to the bed, is my daughter.
I allow myself to breathe deeply for the first time since seeing Benedict. My chest fills with contentment and comfort, but then I hear Malaki’s voice, and I’m right back to the shitshow I was in moments ago.
I tiptoe backward and quietly shut the door to my bedroom.
I turn just in time to see my sister gawking at me from the couch.
Her mouth curves, and a laugh fumbles out.
“Oh my god.” She can hardly contain her laughter as she grabs her phone from the coffee table and speaks to whoever is on the other end.
“I gotta go. I think my sister is trying to get laid.”
“What?! No, I’m not!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and press against the wall until I’m sliding down to the floor. I bring my knees up to my chest and bury my face. I can’t even make eye contact with Malaki without bursting in flames.
I’m humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, and so many more things.
“What the hell was I thinking?” I say into my knees.
Zoe snorts. “I’m pretty sure you were thinking that he’s hot.”
Malaki chuckles for the first time since Benedict showed up. “Whoa. That’s no way to talk to your future brother-in-law.”
Oh my god.
Zoe laughs awkwardly. “What?”
“I am such a fucking idiot,” I whisper.
There’s a ringing in my ears that doesn’t stop until I feel the slight brush of someone’s hand against my arms. I slowly peek through my knees and see two deep blue eyes looking back at me.
Malaki is crouched below with my sister looming over his shoulder.
When he sees that he has my attention, his lip lifts slightly, and he reaches into his pocket.
A crinkling noise echoes around my small apartment, and I take the bait.
I unwrap my arms from my knees and raise my head.
There, in the center of Malaki’s palm, is the torn packet of Skittles from my center console.
He raises an eyebrow. “You need a hit?” he asks, like it’s a cigarette or something.
How he can make me crack a smile right now is beyond me.
“Can someone explain what the hell is going on?” Zoe exclaims. Her hands fly to her hips with frustration as she stares at the two of us. “Why is this random guy in our apartment?”
“Random guy?” Malaki mumbles. “I’m one of the best hockey players on the Blue Devils.”
Zoe scoffs. “I don’t do sports.”
I steal a Skittle from the packet in Malaki’s palm and suck on it. He eventually stands so I take full advantage of the space between us and head for the kitchen in an attempt to sort my thoughts without him distracting me.
“Well…” Malaki shrugs. “Your sister proposed to me.”
I laugh like a maniac because that's exactly what I am.
He’s my fiancé. What the hell was I thinking?
Zoe gapes at Malaki, then slowly shifts her attention to me and my crazed laughing. She inches her way across the living room.
“Reese?” She says my name as she carefully eyes Malaki and then dives for the baseball bat propped in the corner by the door. “Should I beat him?”
My eyes widen, and I scramble out from behind the counter. “Zoe!” I screech her name as quietly as I can, careful not to wake Charleigh. “Stop it, or he’ll think we’re both crazy!”
I place my hands on top of hers while she glares at Malaki from over my shoulder.
To no surprise, he stands there, observing the pair of us, without a care in the world. His face smooth, hands in his pockets.
Maybe he’s the crazy one.
“Put the bat down!” I grit between my teeth.
Zoe rolls her eyes but eventually follows suit. The metal bat clanks against the wall when she places it in its rightful spot, followed by her arms crossing as she stares at the pair of us.
“Well, someone better start talking,” she retorts.
Malaki and I make eye contact. I have the urge to cry and laugh all at once.
We speak at the exact same time:
“Your sister asked me to marry her–”
“I have a daughter–”
Malaki’s eyebrows crowd together with shock.
Zoe laughs hysterically.
And me? I die a slow, painful death.