Redeem Me: Oakville Series:Book Four (26 page)

“So, have you and Angel picked any baby names yet?” Taryn asks. With all that’s been going on and the radio silence from him since he left, it’s never come up. We skimmed over the subject, but never seriously discussed it.

“No, we haven’t,” I state. Everyone looks at each other, then at me, their mouths gaping.

“You need to get on that. It’s not something you can just pull out of your ass last minute,” Amber says, and everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

“Guess I better get started on that,” I say, feeling like an idiot.

“Oh, look, it’s getting ready to start,” Taryn squeals with excitement. Thankfully, it takes the attention from my stupidity away. We all take our drinks and plates full of food to the living room. I’m grateful for Angel’s entertainment system obsession. He has internet on the big screen, which is hooked up to surround sound. It will be just like being there with them—well, almost.

I get settled onto the couch and anxiously await my first glimpse of my man. The lights go out and Paul drums out the intro to their first song. When the bright lights hit the stage, I see him playing his guitar like it’s a part of him. Watching him in his element on stage is exciting. The way his fingers work the strings on his guitar is just plain sexy. I can’t help but imagine those same fingers playing my body as effortlessly as he plucks the strings.

“Should I get you a bib, pregs?” Amber jokes. His performance is most definitely drool-worthy; a bib may not be such a bad idea.

“As if ya’ll aren’t doing the same while watching your boys on that stage,” I shoot back. They all laugh, knowing I’m right. We are all a bunch of drooling groupies panting over our boys.

As much as I love watching him perform, I’m itching for the show to be over so I can hear his voice. I glance down at the crowd filled with girls pressed against the stage, reaching for my Angel. Two girls in particular catch my eye and my stomach turns. Riley and Jamie are dressed in full hooker attire, leading the pack of fangirls.

“What. The. Fuck? Please tell me I’m imagining the tart twins in the audience,” Holly voices. I wish she were imagining it. Does he know she is there? Worse yet, does he want her there? That thought has my stomach roiling. All the insecurities I had before come rushing back, consuming me.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off them, needing to watch their every move. She bends down, doing something I can’t see. When she stands up again, there is something in her hand. Is that? It is. She’s holding her panties in her hand. I roll my eyes as she raises her arms, stretching the material between them as if it’s a rubber band she’s getting ready to shoot across the room. Her red panties fly through the air, landing right in front of Angel’s feet on stage.

He looks down at the fabric laying at his feet and smirks over to Kyle. Did he see who threw them at him? Does he like it when girls do that kind of thing? Tears start to prick my eyes. Why can’t this girl just go the hell away? She’s gorgeous. She can have any man she wants. Why does she have to want my man?

“Babe, don’t let that twatwaffle get to you. We all know Angel wouldn’t give the bitch the time of day,” Amber says. I wish I didn’t have these doubts, but I do. I need to talk to him. Once I do, maybe these fears will go away.

We watch the rest of the show and sing along to the songs, ogling our men. I know the girls are trying to make it all lively and keep my mind from wandering to the bitch squad sitting front and center, so I try to put on a brave face. I don’t want to ruin their evening.

Once the show is over, I stare at my phone, willing it to ring. The girls hang out for a little while before calling it a night. One by one, they tell me goodnight, each one giving me a sympathetic look. The one that says,
We’re sorry that the bimbo squad is trying to take your man
. After closing the door behind them, I lean back against it. Tears fill my eyes and my legs give out. Dropping to the floor with my face in my hands, I cry big, fat tears. My phone dings, alerting me of a text. I jump up, almost tripping over my own feet to get to my phone.

Excitement runs through me, but it is quickly replaced with grave disappointment. The text is from Amber, telling me to call anytime if I need her. The offer is sweet and I’m grateful for it, but it’s not the call I wanted. I haul my disappointed ass up the stairs to get ready for bed.

After a shower, I lay in my bed and pull Angel’s pillow against me. It smells like him and brings me a little comfort. I roll over and grab my phone to see if I missed a call while in the shower. It’s been a couple hours since their show ended and he usually calls back by now. But they were in a bar, and he may not have heard his phone…or checked it yet. It’s possible. Lighting the screen, there aren’t any missed calls. I debate for a moment whether to call him again when my phone vibrates in my hand.

Thought you’d like to see what your boy has been up to.

A video file is attached. With shaky hands, I push play, knowing I’m not going to like what I see. Nothing good ever comes from videos and unknown numbers—nothing. While the video loads, I pray I’m wrong and try to push the feeling of dread back down.

Angel, sprawled out on a bed, naked, comes into view. By the bareness of the room, I’d guess it’s a hotel. Music is playing in the background. A woman comes into view wearing only a bra and panties. She starts to dance, slow and teasing. I’ve seen that look on Angel’s face before. It’s pure want—lust. I want to turn it off, but something inside won’t let me.

It doesn’t take long before the girl is naked and climbing on the bed. When she turns around and looks straight into the camera, I throw my phone down and rush to the bathroom to empty my stomach. When there’s nothing left, I crawl to my bed and call Amber. When she finally answers, I beg for her to come over in between heaving sobs. Like the true friend she is, she says she on her way.

How could he do this to me, to our babies? And to make it even more repulsive, if that’s even possible, how could he do this with that skanky ass bitch, Riley?

Angel

B
eing up here on this stage is supposed to take me away from everything that troubles me. But that doesn’t seem to be working tonight. Thoughts of Kayleigh and my not-so-dad muddle my mind. I’m angry and hurt. For eight fucking years, he was my dad. How could that mean nothing to him? And even if he didn’t think of me as a son, how could he put me through all that hell after he took her? No matter what I do right now, I can’t shake the questions. Can’t stop trying to figure out how and why he could do this.

I glance out over the crowd, hoping seeing their excitement and enthusiasm will lift my spirits and get my head back in the game. Seeing them singing along to every word, their lighters and cell phone lights swaying back and forth, is a rush. The thoughts start to dissipate as I find my connection to my guitar, to the rhythm, the notes, the plucking of strings—and then I see them. Riley and Jamie. What the fuck are they doing here?

I try to look anywhere but her direction. The last thing I need to do is add fuel to the fire. When the panties land right in front of me, I roll my eyes and look over to Kyle, a puzzled expression on his face. I can’t help but smirk at him. These girls creep him out. He’s dealt with the creepy stalker chick thing, so he knows what I’m dealing with. Sometimes, I think he may get some sick pleasure out of watching me squirm.

When the last note is played, all my fucked up family issues crash back to the forefront of my mind. Knowing I’m not in the right mind frame to be any sort of company for anyone, I let the guys know I’m going straight to my room, and walk off stage. Leaving the club, I head across the street to our hotel. It’s nothing fancy, but it will do. I just want to take a shower and get to sleep so my mind can stop replaying my visit to his house. Hearing that I’m not really his son gutted me. It makes sense now why one day he loved me, and the next, he didn’t. Of course, now I’ll never know who my real dad is. Not that it really matters. He didn’t want anything to do with me back then, so why would he now?

I get off the elevator and walk down the hall to my room. Once inside, I head straight for my bottle of Jack and sit on the bed. Not bothering with a glass, I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a long drink, welcoming the burn as it glides down my throat. Lately, I can’t help but wonder if finding Kayleigh was a good thing. I’m glad to have the chance to get to know her again, but it’s turned her life upside down as well as mine. The parents she’s loved and trusted her whole life have done nothing but lied to her. I don’t think she’s handling that very well. She’s angry, understandably so. Hell, so am I.

I’m scared I’m going to totally fuck up being a parent. What if I can’t love them like they should be loved? What do I know about being a good parent? Absolutely fucking nothing. It’s not like I had the perfect role model for a father. Angelo, or Andrew—whatever the fuck his name is—left after eight years of being my dad. He didn’t know I wasn’t his son all that time. It’s as if he didn’t love me at all. Chelsie’s gonna see what a complete fuck up I am. How I know nothing about being a good father. Then she’ll take the kids and leave me. That would completely destroy me. I love her with everything I am. She’s a part of me now. I couldn’t live without her.

Again, I bring the bottle to my lips and take another large gulp, needing to wash away the doubt. As soon as I get home to my girl and our babies, everything will be fine. A few gulps later, the room starts to sway. I try to stand, really needing to get in the shower, but I fall back to the bed, my head spinning. Deciding walking anywhere, even to the bathroom, isn’t the best idea, I rest back against the headboard and finish the bottle. Just before the darkness takes over, I realize I forgot to call Chelsie after the show. I try reaching for my phone, but I’m too far gone. I pass out with happy thoughts of my girl and our babies.

Loud banging jolts me awake. I open my eyes, but quickly close them, my head pounding. I roll over and put a pillow over my head to drown out the light, but the banging gets louder. I groan, and say, “Go away,” my voice muffled by the fabric covering my face. Guessing it’s not going to stop anytime soon, I roll myself out of bed and stumble to the door. As soon as I turn the handle, the door is pushed open and I’m thrown on my ass. A very angry Paul and Kyle come storming in. Paul begins searching the room, looking in the closet and bathroom.

“What the fuck is going on?” I question, rubbing my face.

“Will you ever stop fucking up?” Kyle yells as he charges for me. He grabs me by the shirt and yanks me off the ground. “Why would you do that to her? Can you not keep it in your pants for a couple weeks?”

“What are you going on about?” I question, trying to push him off me. My efforts are worthless. My head pounds with every movement and I don’t have the strength to hold my arms up anymore. Kyle throws me on the bed and fishes his cell phone from his pocket, mumbling under his breath. He swipes at the screen and I slap my cheeks a couple times, trying to snap out of this drunken haze. Well…maybe hungover? Nope, it’s still possible I’m drunk.

“This is what I’m talking about.” He throws his phone at me. I pick it up and squint to focus. There’s a video paused on the screen. “Play it,” Kyle orders, leaning against the wall. I press play and begin to watch.

I scrunch my brows in confusion and look up to Kyle. “Uh, why are you showing me this? How did you even get it?” I throw the phone on the bed, not needing to see anymore, and scrub my hands over my face. I was there when the video was taken, I know how it ends. Better yet, why didn’t Riley delete it?

“The better question is how did your girlfriend, the mother of your children, get this?” I jump up and push past Kyle and Paul as I run to the bathroom. Falling to my knees in front of the toilet, I begin to heave. The thought of Chelsie watching that is making me sick. It’s bad enough she knows about my colorful history. It doesn’t need to be thrown in her face. She shouldn’t have to witness it. Once my stomach is empty, I stumble back to Kyle and Paul.

“How did Chelsie get this?” I ask, and Paul’s face turns beet red.

“What the fuck does that matter? What’s important here is that you fucked up everything. You threw away the best thing you’ve ever had for some bitch who’s served more men than McDonald’s,” Paul growls.

“Do you really think I’d do that to her?” I shout, getting pissed. He waves his hand toward the phone in a way that says,
Yeah, I do. Here’s the proof.
I have to say, I’m a little offended that he’d think I’d stoop to cheating on Chelsie. “Really? That video is over a year old, asshole. I came straight here last night and drank until I passed out. I was nowhere near that cum bucket. I avoided her ass like the plague.” At least they both look ashamed for thinking the worst of me. If these guys believed I did it, then Chelsie definitely does.