Chapter Twenty-Two
Jase
The back door shut with a muffled thump, Mama’s voice blending with Tyler’s quiet one, and I cringed. We’d been home just long enough for me to walk through to the den, boots on, and slump on the couch.
Hearing Daddy and Grandaddy’s steady footfalls on the hardwood, I gripped my hair, elbows digging into my knees. I didn’t want to look at them.
“Son?” A hand on my shoulder, Daddy hunkered by me, his leather driving moc next to my dirt-encrusted work boots. At the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of Grandaddy’s garden shoes.
“Jase.” Mama settled next to me on the couch, an arm around me. A faded sob shuddered through me, a holdover from Scott’s office. My whole torso hurt, like I’d been lifting rear wheel weights all day. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Might as well jump in. Waiting wouldn’t change anything.
I blew out a breath and lifted my head, not enough to meet anybody’s eyes, but enough to see Tyler’s feet behind Grandma and Grandaddy. She shifted from one to the other, nervous for me. I wanted her next to me. I needed her next to me, steady, close.
Hands at my mouth, I puffed against my skin, shoring myself up. I dropped my hands between my knees.
“Elizabeth’s pregnant. Says it’s mine.”
Next to me, Mama made a kicked kitten noise. Daddy’s hand tightened on my shoulder.
“She got mad because she wanted me to marry her.” I dragged my palms down my face, brain flashing back to that field. What if I’d handled her differently? I pulled the thought up short. This was about her choices, her behavior. Not mine. “Told me I’d be sorry.”
Grandaddy snorted, his familiar response when he was disgusted. Figured I’d hear it again when I told the rest of it.
“So she had a video of me. In the shower.” I swallowed hard. “Masturbating. And she posted it online.”
Mama’s harsh inhale vibrated through me. I cringed, belly folding in on itself.
I bit the inside of my lower lip and shook my clasped hands between my knees, trying to release the antsy energy running through my whole body. “It’ll be all over town.”
“Fuck the town,” Grandaddy growled.
A rough laugh exploded from my chest, morphing into a sob.
Mama pressed her face to mine, her tears damp on my skin.
Surrounded by my parents and grandparents, the people who’d always loved me best, I still wanted Tyler.
I couldn’t even think. My brain refused to do anything but replay that moment in Scott’s office, replay that damn video.
Daddy’s other hand landed on my knee. “Did you report this?”
“Yes, sir, Scott Barlow helped with that.” I flicked a finger at the investigator’s card on the coffee table. “They’re supposed to let me know.”
“Good.” Approval rang in Grandma’s strangled voice. “Lewis, I might need bail money. The way I want to put my hands on that girl.”
Probably I was the only one that caught Tyler’s small noise of agreement. Lord help me – Lord help Elizabeth – if my wife and my grandma teamed up.
I almost laughed. Almost.
“Boy, let’s go outside to the woodshed.” Grandaddy’s quiet command had me lifting my head up. Daddy twisted sideways to look at him. Face impassive, he spread his hands. “Well? Time’s wastin’.”
I pushed to my feet, Mama’s arm falling away. You didn’t argue with Lewis Hatcher when he told you what to do. He didn’t boss Grandma because she simply wouldn’t listen.
I caught Tyler’s concerned gaze, clinging to my face.
With a small nod, I led the way out the patio doors, legs sluggish and uncoordinated, my body heavy all over.
The woodshed – actually the storage shop – stood in the corner of the yard.
A storage rack for firewood ran along one exterior wall, and the massive piece of log Grandaddy had used to hold wood for splitting remained standing on the grass.
Grandaddy strode to the shed, swung the door wide and emerged holding an axe. He set a piece of wood atop the stump and extended the axe in my direction. “Have at it.”
I took the tool on reflex, stared at it then glanced back at the house, where I’d left Tyler in what had to be the most not-easy situation possible. Alone. Without me. With people she didn’t really know yet. Guilt cramped my stomach.
I couldn’t take care of her.
“Your mama and grandma have her.” Daddy patted between my shoulders. “Let us take care of you. Dad’s right. A little physical exertion might settle you.”
They stepped back, and I swung, splitting the log with one stroke. The crack reverberated up my arms, the clean, sharp smell of freshly cut oak filling my nose. I reached for another chunk of oak and swung again. I split piece after piece, until sweat soaked my shirt, until my arms shook and ached.
My chest heaved. How could she do this?
“She had no right.” Each word emerged on a rough gasp. I jabbed the axe head into the dirt with a vicious twist of my wrist. “Never did anything but try to be what she wanted.”
“Son, you are not responsible for her behavior.” Daddy held my gaze, his tone brooking no nonsense. “I don’t want you even thinking about taking that on.”
“What the hell is wrong with her?” The words erupted from my chest fueled by anger and hurt, not to mention fear and embarrassment. The worst part was that she knew exactly what she was doing – and did it anyway. “First Hannah, now me? What is wrong with her?”
She knew. Just like when she’d made Hannah out to be the bad guy on her channel, made it out that Hannah and I were cheaters and that’s why we were over. She knew what she was doing.
She knew.
“Something is deep down wrong with that little girl,“ Granddaddy said, quiet. “But you realized that and were smart enough to get yourself out before you tied yourself to her.”
“Except I didn’t.” I dragged my hands down my sweaty face, throat aching. I couldn’t fucking breathe. “That baby is most likely mine. I’m tied to her, just like it is.”
Coldness spread through me. If she would do this to me because a situation hadn’t gone the way she wanted… how could I trust her with my child?
“I’m taking that baby if it’s mine.” Chin lifted, I looked from Daddy to Granddaddy. I shook my head. “I’m not letting her ruin that child.”
Even as the words spilled from my lips, hopelessness crashed in. The law would favor her over me in a custody fight. I knew that.
My gaze fell on the patio door. And what would that look like with me and Tyler? She said we’d do this together, but asking her to take on another baby, one that wasn’t hers? She hadn’t signed up for this, even if she was supporting me now. If it got too far from easy, she might leave.
The thought of that sliced through me, same as the idea of a child belonging to me being exposed to Elizabeth’s vindictive impulses.
The competing scenarios hit as hard as that axe, splitting me in two.
No matter how this played out, I was screwed, and someone stood to get hurt.
Because two untenable choices lay before me . . .
Abandon my child.
Or ask my wife to do the unthinkable.