Chapter 34
Gray
Stuck in the passenger seat of Dad’s cushy rental sedan, I can barely sit still. My knee bounces, and I’m rocking back and forth as if the motion can somehow make the damn car go faster. This traffic to get clear of the Superdome is killing me. Not being with Ivy is killing me. Is she okay?
In my haste, I’d left my phone behind. I’m cursing myself now.
Pressing my fingers against my aching eyes, I try to focus on deep breathing. I need to calm down before I totally lose it and end up kicking a hole through the floorboards.
“So it’s true?” My father’s gravelly voice cuts through the silence. “You’re with Sean Mackenzie’s oldest?”
“Ivy,” I croak out. “Yeah.” I don’t ask how he knows. Gossip is a disease in football.
“Nice kid.”
I glance at him, incredulous. But then shake my head. Of course Dad has met Ivy. She apparently knows everyone in professional sports.
He catches my look and shrugs. “Haven’t seen her since she was a teenager. But she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Pretty too, in a subtle way.”
I snort and grind my clenched fist against my mouth.
“And you love her?” he presses.
“I want to marry her.” Not that he needs to know. But it feels good to say. As if, every time I do, it becomes more real.
Finally, traffic breaks, and my dad turns the car onto the main road. For some reason, I find myself looking at his hands. Those big hands that always felt like a hammer crashing into my skull when he’d cuff my head for some minor infraction. They look old now, the knuckles swollen, the skin spotted with age.
A sick lurch goes through me. I lean back, stare out the windows.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been home,” Dad says in a low voice.
“I am home,” I say. When he doesn’t answer me, I glare at him. “Did you really think I’d ever come back?”
His profile is like granite. “Why wouldn’t you?”
My laugh is bitter and short. “Here’s a tip. You want your child to visit? You don’t fucking beat his ass when he’s a defenseless kid. You don’t let his older fuck-head brothers beat his ass.” I’m yelling now, my voice ringing in the space between us. “And you don’t fucking leave him alone to take care of his dying mother.”
Dad had been stoic until the mention of my mom. His gaze slices to mine. Red flushes over his weathered cheeks. “First off, I never beat you. I pushed you to excel.”
At my ripe curse, he talks over me. “And look at you now. The best in your position. Hell if you won’t be the number one pick. That discipline helped forge you into a champion.”
“I excelled due to innate talent and hard work. Not because you and Jonas and Leif whaled on me when I did something wrong.”
His lips press together. For a long moment, he doesn’t say a word. Which is fine by me.
“I didn’t know how bad they’d gotten,” he says finally, quietly. “I was just trying to do right by you. Make you tough.”
“Well, brilliant. Only don’t expect me to care.” I lean my head against the window. Will this ride ever end? My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. I refuse to think about Ivy right now. Not in this car.
Again, my dad speaks. “I shouldn’t have left you to deal with Liv.”
Grinding my teeth to keep from shouting, I force a detached tone. “I didn’t ‘deal’ with Mom. I was there for her. I wanted to be. I just didn’t want to be the only one to do it.” Something sticks in my throat, and I struggle to clear it. “I needed help. She needed her whole family, Dad.”
“I know. I was wrong.” His knuckles turn white. “I couldn’t... I wasn’t strong enough. But you were. You’re the best of us, Gray.”
His words sit like a stone on my chest. I say nothing.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
“Because I win games.” It’s not even a question.
“No. I’m proud of my son. Of the man you’ve become.” He turns a corner and we’re pulling into the hotel’s drive. Dad eases the car into a spot before looking at me. “And I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”
My throat convulses, and I can barely nod. Ivy is in a room upstairs. Likely devastated. I am too, yet my legs are like lead. I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.
“Gray,” Dad says as I move to get out. His blue eyes, the exact color of mine, are rimmed in red. “I’ll try to do better.”
I don’t really know what to say. That he cares should make me feel better. But I’m numb now. So I answer the only way I can. “Okay. Bye.”
And then my thoughts turn to the person I love more than anything on earth.
My fingers are ice as I let myself into Ivy’s room. I just want to get to her, but I’m a wreck, shaking and nauseous. My heart is thumping so hard, my breath so short, I’m afraid I might topple.
As soon as I enter, Mackenzie and Dr. Rakin stand and face me.
“Where is she?” I get out.
“Resting in the bedroom,” Dr. Rakin says in a low voice. “I gave her some acetaminophen for the pain.”
“How is she?” God, just let her be okay.
“As well as can be expected, Grayson,” Dr. Rakin says. “Sporadic miscarriages during early pregnancy are not uncommon, and Ivy is young and healthy.”
Words I want to hear, but I know there’s a huge difference between physically fine and mentally okay.
“Shouldn’t she be in the hospital?” I press.
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “There really isn’t anything they can do for her.” It’s a punch to my heart to hear that. “Just keep a lookout for a fever or undue bleeding. I’ve said this to Miss Mackenzie, as well.”
“Right.” Stuffing my shaking hands as hard down into my jeans pockets as they’ll go, I make myself ask the question I fear most. “Is it... Was it because—?”
My throat closes in on me as my vision blurs. I blink rapidly. “We had sex. Today. And—”
Shit. I’m going to lose it. Ivy’s dad is right here. He must fucking hate me. I hate me.
But Rakin shakes his head, his expression almost pitying. “No, son. Put that out of your mind. When a pregnancy aborts like this it’s usually due to a chromosomal abnormality in the fetus.”
Logically I know this. But I can’t stop myself from thinking of how I slammed into Ivy. Taking her hard and fast, like a rutting bastard.
My eyes burn hot, prickling. I draw in a shaking breath. “Okay. Right.” I don’t know where to look. “Thanks. For being there for her.”
“Not a problem,” Dr. Rakin answers. “I heard about the win. Excellent job, Gray.”
I could give a shit about the win right now. Ivy is in the other room. Waiting. I’m fucking wobble-kneed and ready to bawl. The sense of loss guts me. I don’t know what to do with that emotion now, or how to even handle it. Rakin is saying something about Ivy seeing her OB when she gets home. I nod, but my gaze turns to Mackenzie. He’s been silent this whole time.
He’s looking at me now, those thick black brows of his slanting over his eyes. I want to apologize to him.
But he speaks first. “I’m sorry, son.” He comes closer to me, and I suck in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His big hand lands on my shoulder. “I really am.”
“Yeah,” I croak. “Me too.” I turn my attention to the closed bedroom door, and move toward it but stop and look at Mackenzie. “I know you’re Ivy’s father, but don’t ever keep something like this from me again.”
He knows I mean it. I let him see the rage and fear I’d felt when I learned Ivy was hurting and I wasn’t there for her.
Mackenzie gives me a tight nod. “Never again.”