“That true?” Nixon directed the question towards me. Mo’s gaze was intense, as if she was praying I wouldn’t take the higher road and say no man, it’s my fault, I messed up. Instead, feeling like a jackass, I nodded my head.
Nixon put the gun down and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do the right thing, still. Right, Tex?”
The right thing? My head snapped to attention. Even Chase looked confused, his eyes pinched together causing a line to form on his forehead.
I looked at Mo for help. Realization must have dawned, because her face went white as a sheet before she launched herself into Nixon’s arms. “No! Nixon, no you can’t make us!”
“Chase,” Nixon barked, “make the arrangements.”
“Uh?” I raised my hand. “For my funeral? Is that what we’re discussing? Kind of in the dark, man.”
“Maybe to you.” Swear Nixon’s eyes were dripping black as they pierced through mine. “But some may call it a celebration.”
“What?” I repeated. “The hell. Is going on?”
“Do the right thing.” Nixon popped his knuckles. “Unplanned pregnancy out of wed-lock.”
My mind did the calculations.
And apparently two plus two really does equal four.
And I was screwed.
I wondered how bad it would be… to marry someone who you loved with so much of your soul that it hurt to breathe. Only to know that you’re her second choice. Or maybe not even a choice in the first place. Just a happy replacement until something better came along.
I wasn’t so sure I could live with that.
And suddenly I felt like Chase did all those months ago. When he was in love with Trace, when I couldn’t understand why the hell he was acting like such a hormonal woman over his feelings when we had bigger things to worry about.
But that’s love.
It makes you feel.
“Don’t,” I whispered. “Please Nixon, anything but this.”
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he examined my face. “Thought you loved her?”
“I do.” My answer was quick. Confident. “But she doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
“Then she should have thought about that before she jumped into your bed, don’t you think?” He sidestepped me and started barking instructions to Chase about the marriage. Words like, tonight, make it fast, and hurry were not ones I ever wanted associated with what should have been the most important day of my life.
The most special day of hers.
I looked down at her flat stomach again. My eyes wishing they could peer at the tiny soul that had been created. I was protecting the innocent.
Even if that made me the guilty.
I was doing the right thing.
Even though I was pretty sure I was traveling down a road I would never be free from, to a destination that would feel a hell of a lot like constant torture.
Would I lay down everything I was? Everything I had to offer, to protect someone who didn’t give two shits about me?
I stared at her face.
The one I dreamt of every night.
Yeah. I would offer her everything. And in return take nothing. Story of my life.
I give.
They take.
I give some more.
They take it all.
CHAPTER SIX
Hearts weren’t meant to be broken.
Mo
“ARE YOU MAD?” My voice cracked. I might as well have yelled, the room had been so silent. Tex wasn’t speaking to me. He wasn’t speaking to anyone. The light had officially died from his eyes ever since earlier that afternoon, and it was all my fault. It wasn’t intentional. I’d do anything to protect my family. Anything.
Even if it meant damning both of us in the process.
“Am I mad?” Tex repeated, his muscles rippling across his arms as he flexed his hands and then made a fist with his right, punching the bed lightly. “No, not mad. Mad would mean I was crazy, nuts. Madness assumes the person is one step away from insanity. I think what you’re asking is, am I angry, and more importantly is said anger directed at you?”
“That was a really long explanation.” I tucked my feet under myself and leaned against his muscled shoulder. Everything about him was larger than life. From his body to the way he spoke. Tex didn’t do small. He did big. He moved his hands when he talked as if he was preaching at a Baptist church. He laughed like it might be the last time he did so. He made love… well he made love like he believed in it, like there was nothing in the world he’d rather be doing than spending time pleasuring me, exploring me; he made me feel special. And in the end, that had been my downfall with him.
I was owned by him.
No longer me.
I’d gotten kind of lost in his bigness, so I’d backed off. It helped that I’d had a good excuse; he’d cheated. Though, later on, one of the men told me the truth. He’d done it to get information about Mil’s family. Would have been nice to know it at the time, but I was too damn upset to say anything. Upset with him, upset with me.
And scared.
Yeah. I was really, really scared.
Terrified.
And I couldn’t even tell him why.
“For what it’s worth…” I shuddered. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you love me?” he asked.
My entire body seized. Did he just ask what I think he did?
“Mo? Do you love me? It’s a simple question. And no I don’t mean love me like the way you love Chase or Nixon. Do you love me? Do I own your soul? Your heart? Do you love me? Forget all the shit that went down with other girls, forget getting pregnant. It’s just you and me. Do you love me?”