Sticks (Black Addiction #2) (23 page)

“We’ve got solid dates for the next two weeks. No breaks between shows. If I can just hold out until then, I’ll fly to her and tell her. I don’t care if I only get to see her for two days, I’ll do it. I just need to get through.”

Two weeks. It should be a blink of an eye in the scheme of things but I was going to curse every single grain of sand that was going to have to pass through the hourglass.

“Okay, Joey. You know what’s best but if I was you, I wouldn’t be waiting.” Max didn’t agree with my need to wait but he wasn’t going to ride me either. He never did which is why things with us were always cool.

“Hey, when we get back.” I took a swallow before continuing. “I’m going to move out. I want to get a place with Kenzie, something new for the both of us. I don’t want either of us to be fighting ghosts of past relationships in our space.”

“Yeah, I totally understand.” Max nodded. “And I think it might be time I get something a little closer to the city. It will be nice to get a clean break.”

The two of us had lived in that same house since we were eighteen. We’d pay the rent and the bills and then spend the rest on beer, sometimes food. First few months we’d lived there, we’d had a mattress each on the floor—no box spring, and a couple of lounge chairs in the living room. Max’s parents had hooked us up with a refrigerator and television, which summed up pretty much all our worldly possessions. It was a much different story now.

“You with me, brother?” Max punched me in the arm, my zoning out catching his attention.

“Yeah, just thinking about shit when we were younger. I swear living in that house with you, I thought it was the best time of my life.”

“It was good times, my friend. Some of the best.” Max smiled, the reminiscing probably conjuring some happy times in his own melon.

The band, Kenzie and the baby. It was a hat trick I wasn’t sure I deserved, but I sure as hell wasn’t handing it back.

“I’m thinking while those times were awesome, the best is yet to come.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I can’t believe you
were so stupid, Kenzie. Really?”

Brandon was home from his deployment. He hadn’t even gone and seen our parents yet, instead landed on my doorstep and gone off the deep end. For twenty minutes he’d been giving me varying degrees of his disappointment, mixing it up once in awhile by making threats against Joey. Of course that meant I had been yelling too, which made for an interesting conversation.

“I’m not fifteen, I’m twenty-five. Lots of people have children at my age, you’re making it sound like it can’t be done.”

I was tired and if it hadn’t been my brother—someone who I knew loved me deeply—then I wouldn’t have bothered justifying myself. He’d hated almost every boyfriend I’d ever had. As far as he was concerned, no man would ever be good enough.

“If everyone was jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you be doing that too? Kenzie, I know I’m hard on you but it’s only because I love you. When Mom and Dad told me about this I freaked out.” He paced in my kitchen, his feet threatening to wear a hole through my linoleum.

“I know you are trying to protect your little sister, but I’m not a kid anymore and I don’t need protecting. Not from Joey anyway.”

Brandon had been gone a lot when I was in my teens; he’d joined the Air Force straight out of high school and dutifully went wherever the US Government sent him. My dad had a mild heart attack right before he was due to reenlist, which is why he switched to the Guard, so he could be home more. And while I loved having my brother around, he ran his life like a military operation. I, on the other hand, did not.

“Sis, he’s not even here. He left you alone. How do you know what the hell he is doing out there? He could have a different girl in every city and meanwhile you’re here pregnant with his kid.” He gave me every possible worst-case scenario because
obviously
I wasn’t capable of thinking them up all by myself. That was sarcasm in case you didn’t catch it.

“Would you stop?” I shook my head trying to remember if my brother had always been this high strung. “I trust him, okay. I don’t believe he would cheat on me just because I’m not there. Besides, he could just as easily cheat on me here if he wanted to; I’m not with him twenty-four hours a day. I love him. We’re having this baby together.”

Now I had come to the realization I couldn’t stop saying I loved him, unfortunately I still hadn’t said it to him. That was going to change though. I didn’t care if it was on the phone or via carrier pigeon—I was telling him. The longer I kept it down the edgier it made me, and if he happened to not feel the same way, then at least I’d know. Not that it was a real concern. He must have those feelings; there was no way this could be one sided.

“And does he love you?” Brandon tossed in, bringing up doubts if I’d had any. “Has he said what he wants to happen after the tour? Is he going to stick around? Or is he going to go live the highlife in a big-ass house while you are at home raising a child.”

I couldn’t help it. My voice rose as I waved my arms like a lunatic wondering what it was going to take for him to see that this was the real deal. That we were two people in love and that maybe it wasn’t a typical situation, but we weren’t typical people.

“We’re going to be together. We haven’t worked out everything yet but we’ll be together. I’m sure we’ll move in together. Maybe we might even get married.”

I was purely speculating but I assumed we’d move in together. Joey hadn’t asked, but neither had I. And while previously I had completely shot down his idea of getting married, it wasn’t something I would immediately discount. I mean, maybe it could work. No, it would work. We would be happy and if I was going to marry anyone it would be him. It was just my stupid insecurities coming to play, because even if we hadn’t talked about this stuff, I knew he loved me and the baby. He would want to be with us.

“Kenz, I just don’t want you getting hurt. That’s all. I know you said you don’t need protecting, but those habits die hard.” He stopped pacing and looked at me, it was hard for him to accept I no longer needed him to chase the boogieman out of my closet.

“And I love you for it, but please. Back off.”

He opened his mouth to continue when my phone started to buzz, my screen lighting up like a Christmas tree with a number I didn’t recognize. It was local, the number displaying a New York area code.

“Hello?” I pressed my phone to my ear fully expecting some random wrong number.

“Hello, is this Ms. Kenzie Clark? My Name is Rich Steer, I’m Black Addiction’s attorney.”

The mention of Black Addiction immediately made me panic. What if something happened to them on the road? When was the last time I spoke to Joey? I tried not to hyperventilate as I answered the man who’d been patiently waiting for me to respond.

“Yes, I’m Kenzie. Is everything okay with Joey and the band?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he assured me with a smooth laugh. “I just spoke to Joey yesterday actually. He was kind enough to send me a copy of your paternity results.”

“Oh? He did that? Oh, okay then.”

What? Paternity results? We had those results weeks ago and he had been in no hurry to file them. If it hadn’t been for my insistence he wouldn’t have even bothered with the test in the first place, happy to take my word. So why this was all an issue now was beyond me.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Clark, does that surprise you?” The lawyer—I couldn’t remember his name—probed like I was somehow on the stand. He might sound polite but I could tell it was an act.

“No, I mean I told him he should. I just didn’t think he’d done it, that’s all.” Or he hadn’t mentioned it to me and I assumed he would. I also assumed that if he hadn’t done anything with them at this point, he probably wasn’t going to. It seemed a weird thing to do while he was on tour.

“Good, I’m glad we’re all on the same page.” His assurance made my skin crawl. “I assume you have your own representation?”

Hold on. What was happening here? How had this conversation moved from paternity to him questioning me?

“What do you mean, my own representation? Why do I need a lawyer? I’m not suing him for support.” I immediately got defensive.

“No ma’am, he mentioned you weren’t.” He slithered about politely but I knew it was to buy time. “But we’ll be filing for joint custody for the child after the birth, so you’ll need someone to represent you for those proceedings.” He waited to let it all sink in. “I can recommend someone if you like? As you both seem to have the best interest of the child at heart, it shouldn’t take very long at all. I expect you aren’t going to contest his right to custody?”

It was as if the air was pushed out from my lungs and no matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t expand. The heat flooded me in a light-headed rush and suddenly I had to grab a hold of the kitchen counter in front of me just to stay vertical.

“Wait? What?” I coughed out, the words burning their way out of my throat. “Why would he need to file for custody? We’re together.”

“Ma’am, in the state of New York, without an existing custody agreement, there could be disputes regarding the child at a later date.”

It felt like my heart stopped beating, the breath in my lungs slowly exhaling as he continued.

“While you
state
you have a relationship, you aren’t dwelling at the same address, nor are you married, so from a legal standpoint it’s better to have this in writing.”

He kept talking, ignoring my silence as the world crumbled from under me.

“It’s as much for your protection as it is his.” A laugh bubbled from his throat like he was doing me a favor.

“This way all parties would need to be agreeable on the terms and conditions of the child’s upbringing. For instance, if the child was taken out of state for extended periods of time, it would need the consent of both parents. It’s all very typical and procedural.”

There was so much in that, I didn’t even know where to begin.
While you state you have a relationship.
What the hell were we doing if it
wasn’t
a relationship? And don’t even get me started about
all parties would need to be agreeable on the terms and conditions of the child’s upbringing
. Our baby wasn’t a fucking contract that was going to be negotiated. What the hell was Joey thinking?

“And you spoke to Joey about this?”

“I asked him what his intentions were and he said he wanted joint custody, yes.” The asshole cleared his throat. “Listen ma’am, no one would try and take the child away from you if that’s what you are thinking.”

It was like a bomb had gone off and I had been tossed out of my body, the impact making my ears ring as my vision blurred. And then just as suddenly, I was thrown right back in, the jolt literally making me step back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I fired back, not giving a shit how crazed I sounded. “Like I would let you take
anything
away from me, let alone my child.”

Brandon grabbed my arm, reminding me he was there—honestly, he was not my primary concern right now—as I went right back to yelling. I was doing such a great job of it, why stop now.

“You have some fucking nerve trying to muscle me with fucking legal talk. Do you think I don’t know what my rights are? I haven’t asked for a thing and now you are throwing this at me? Go to hell, I’ll find my own damn lawyer.” I hung up before he had a chance to give me more of his bullshit posturing. Seriously, who did he think he was talking to? Did he just expect me to listen quietly while he explained his intentions of filing a court order regarding custody as soon as my baby was born? Who even does that? Was Joey motherfucking insane? He can’t have honestly asked for this? Why the hell hadn’t he spoken to me about it? I had never even implied that I would withhold his rights as a parent; it had been my fucking idea to get the paternity test in the first place. What the hell just happened?

“What the fuck was that?” Brandon exploded, getting enough from the one sided conversation to work out it wasn’t good.

“Joey intends to file for joint custody after the baby is born and that was his attorney advising me to get representation.” I tried to calm down knowing the stress wasn’t good for the baby. “I don’t know . . . I need to talk to him.”

There was something about this that didn’t add up and before I went off the deep end—okay, continued to go off the deep end—I needed to have a serious conversation. He couldn’t honestly believe that I would stop him from having a say on how we brought up our baby. We’d always agreed we were doing this together.

“Wait a minute here, the asshole abandons you, and then sics his lawyer onto you? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Brandon’s attention was no longer directed at me as his face turned red.

“He didn’t a
bandon
me, he’s working and this must be a mistake. This wouldn’t be him.” It couldn’t be, he just wouldn’t. This wasn’t the Joey who held me before he left; this wasn’t the Joey who called me constantly just to hear my voice. It didn’t add up.

“Sure, Kenzie, it’s a mistake and how did this lawyer guy get your information?” Brandon slurred sarcastically. “He just randomly called women and hoped it was someone the asshole got pregnant?”

“No, he probably got my details from the paternity results. Obviously I’m listed as the mother. It has my contact information on them since I was one who asked for the test. It was my doctor who organized it.” I tried not to yell even though inside I was screaming.

“Why the hell would he even file those unless he wanted to start something?” Brandon grabbed my hands, forcing me to look at him.

I hated the he was saying the exact things I had been thinking, dragging up any doubt I had tried to bury.

“I don’t know, I know what he said. We were raising our baby together. He told me that there was nothing that was going to stop him from being with me and the baby.” Yes, that was my truth. I needed to believe that.

“Yet there’s no fucking ring on your finger, you’re not living together. You have no plans to do either of those things and he’s filing for joint custody. Yeah, sounds like he is doing
everything
to make sure he is in both your lives for a very long time.”

“Stop talking, you’re confusing me.” I put my hands to my ears not wanting to hear another word as I sunk to my ass on the floor. “It’s not him.” I hiccupped, the tears I had tried to stop welling in my eyes. “I know him, and he wouldn’t do this. He just wouldn’t. I just need to talk to him.” My head fell into my hands as a tear rolled down my cheek.