The Rebel's Own (Crimson Romance) (6 page)

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself. I see you spilled your drink,” she said, gesturing to the carpet behind him.

“Ah, you saw that. Then I guess I don’t have to tell you that I’m a little bit nervous.” Ryan’s body ached for her. He itched to touch her, but didn’t know which part of her body to pay attention to first, or how appropriate he could keep it in public. He dug his fingers in his pockets when his needs grew to the point of pain.

“You want to head up to my room?”

“Definitely,” he said entirely too fast. Get a grip man. She’s here for you, and she won’t leave until you’ve had your fill. He cleared his throat before he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the elevator.

• • •

Kennedy was nervous too. She had come to the hotel with the sole intention of telling Ryan that he had a son. A son who was sick, and in need of both money and a bone marrow transplant. But how exactly did someone approach a subject as delicate as that?

The elevator bell dinged, and Kennedy didn’t have time to hear or process anything else as Ryan dragged her inside. He pressed the button to the penthouse suite then suddenly dropped to his knees.

“I just need to know if you really aren’t wearing any panties,” he said, his breathing labored already, as needy, searching hands crept up under her jersey dress and grabbed her ass. He let out a sigh when he found her bare to his touch. “You spoil me too much.” She let out a shocked breath as his finger unceremoniously slid inside her, and he begun caressing her.

Kennedy fell back against the elevator doors, her handbag dropping to the floor as her hands scrabbled for support. For a second, before her thoughts drowned in lust, her gaze alighted on the elevator panel where the floor numbers flickered by quickly. Too quickly. Someone was definitely going to catch them, but that just added to the excitement of it all.

Knowing that the wood panel walls of the elevator wouldn’t help, Kennedy held onto Ryan’s head, as he dropped down in front of her, his tongue suddenly joining his fingers. She let out a throaty chuckle and watched the numbers tick higher. If Ryan went on like this, she knew she was going to come before they hit the penthouse floor.

Kennedy could feel her knees weaken as her body begun to shake from the oncoming climax. She pulled as hard as she could on his hair and he took that as a cue. His fingers moved faster, his tongue licked with feverish intent, and soon Ryan was using his free hand to hold her steady.

The elevator announced their floor just as she was gathering her composure and they walked out, arms around each other. She smiled enigmatically at the older couple that passed them to enter the elevator. They had no idea of the eyeful that they had nearly gotten.

• • •

Ryan watched as Bailey slept. The sound of her deep breathing warmed his heart. He almost felt guilty that he had worn her out. He couldn’t count the number of times her body had surrendered an orgasm to him. But he knew that in twelve hours they had had sex four times. A new record for him, and definitely an experience she wouldn’t forget. But he made up his mind, this time; he would be the one to leave. Maybe then he would be able to get her out of his system.

• • •

When Kennedy woke up, her whole body ached. She let out a groan as she sat up, and after a few seconds she realized she was alone. She fell back on the bed and pulled the cover over her face. She tried to hide to hide the smile that was on her face, from who she didn’t know. For so long she had tried to keep her teenage self away from Ryan, she didn’t want to be taken by him again. But what she didn’t expect was that her adult self, one who swore to hate Ryan for all eternity would need protection too. She was falling and fast.

“Dear God, I’m in trouble.”

“I need your help.”

Kennedy had met up with Matt unarmed. She wasn’t going to threaten him this time; instead, she was going to appeal to his humanity.

It had been two weeks since she last saw Ryan, and she didn’t think he wanted to see her anymore. Kennedy didn’t know if she was pregnant just yet. But she did know that she didn’t have enough money in the bank to pay for Riley’s chemotherapy and radiation treatments.

She pulled out a picture of Riley from her wallet and slid it over the table to Matt, “That is my son.” She watched as Matt’s eyes widened from realization. “His name is Riley Ryan Bailey.”

“Ryan? What?” Matt’s fingers trembled as he picked up the picture. Even if the name hadn’t tipped him off, the icy blue eyes were impossibly familiar. Despite the darker skin tone, Riley was a younger version of his best friend. “I can’t believe this. Does he know?”

“No.” She paused and took a deep breath before dropping her bombshell. “I have been trying to get pregnant.”

“For money, right?” He snickered. “Why don’t you just use this kid? You don’t need another one.”

“Riley has leukemia. I was trying to get pregnant so that I could give him the baby’s cord blood. The stem cells in it could cure him,” she said in a rush. “But I do need money just for his treatment. After he’s better, I’m going to take care of both of them myself.”

Matt just stared at her in shock for a moment. “You need to tell Ryan.”

“No!”

Kennedy looked up and realized her outburst had earned them some curious looks. Lowering her voice, she said, “I can’t have Ryan in my life, not after what he did to me back in high school.”

“You can’t have him in your life, but you are going to have not just one, but
two
of his children?” Matt hissed, incredulous.

“Something like that,” Kennedy muttered. It did sound sort of ridiculous. “Look, you don’t understand how he destroyed me back then. I was a sixteen-year-old kid, who thought that the football star had finally paid attention to her. I gave him everything that night at the prom, and during the summer, I found out I was pregnant. I tried to call him but apparently he had gone to some football camp. I left messages but he never got back to me. Then I…” Kennedy choked on her emotions, that long ago morning of the first day of school rushing into her mind and knocking her into numbness, “…then I found out about your game. I found out I was just a score. So I went home and did the first thing that came to mind, I took a bunch of my father’s medication.”

“Dear God!”

“But I’m still here and the baby survived. My secret was out. You don’t understand the shame I had to go through. Not being able to get over the disappointment my father had in me before he died.” Kennedy angrily swiped the tears off her face. “Now my son is dying! I can’t handle that and Ryan at the same time.”

Kennedy watched Matt as he studied her. Then after a full minute of silence, he pulled out his checkbook and wrote her a check. “I’m sorry about your son. But you need to tell Ryan.”

Her jaw trembled as she exhaled a labored breath. She stared at the check in her hands. Fifty thousand dollars would cover most, if not all, of Riley’s medical expenses. Why couldn’t she have been a match? But even if she was, she didn’t have the money for the procedure.

Maybe her problems were solved.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with Ryan Carville ever again.

It was what she wanted. It was for the best.

So why did that possibility leave her feeling so hollow inside?

• • •

“Kennedy! Kennedy Riley Bailey!”

Kennedy cringed. When her mother called her by all three of her names, something was wrong. She felt like she was a little kid again, and even the thought of crawling under her bed, crossed her mind. But she couldn’t do that. Riley had finally started his chemotherapy, and she was cleaning him up from the last time he got sick.

“Grammy is angry,” Riley whispered.

“I think Mommy is in trouble.” Kennedy hoisted Riley out of the bathtub and walked him into her bedroom. “I’m in here, Mama.”

“What is this?” Rebecca walked into the room fuming, waving a magazine in her hand.

“What’s what?”

“I’ll let you put Riley to bed first.” Rage burned white hot in her mother’s eyes, as she watched Kennedy tuck in her son.

As soon as Kennedy pulled the door closed, her mother slammed the magazine against her chest. “Didn’t I teach you anything about privacy!”

“What are you talking ab—,” Kennedy’s throat clogged up as she stared at the picture of the tabloids front page. It was a picture of her and Ryan. Ryan on his knees in front of her. It was the elevator at the hotel.

“Shit!” They were both idiots for not checking if there were cameras in there first.

“Watch your mouth,” Rebecca shot back. “Flip through the pages.”

Kennedy turned to the next page and there she was with Matt at the café. Her heart dropped into her stomach when she read the caption:
Agent Matt Walker paying for his client Ryan Carville’s call girl
.”

• • •

“Matt, what is this?” Ryan kicked in Matt’s office door and tossed the tabloid at him.

“Don’t need yours; I’ve got my own copy.” Matt grimaced. “I can explain.”

“Explain what? Are you also sleeping with her?” Ryan couldn’t suppress the rage that was boiling through him. He couldn’t imagine any other man—let alone Matt—touching Bailey the way he did.

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not? She’s sexy?” He goaded Matt, perversely offended now.

Matt’s expression turned foreboding. He looked almost sheepish, as he said quietly, “Her name is also Kennedy Bailey, your prom sacrifice.”

“What?” Ryan dropped into the chair next to him.
Her name is also Kennedy Bailey, your prom sacrifice.
The words rang in Ryan’s ears as memories of the gawky heavyset girl with braids flashed in his mind. He had trouble reconciling the image with the sexpot who’d introduced herself as Bailey, though the name alone should have been a giveaway. “What? Why did she do this? Did she want money?”

“Yes, and she also wanted your sperm.”

His jaw dropped. So he’d been right after all. It was a scheme, a set-up. “She wants to trap me?”

“She wants nothing to do with you.” Matt chuckled briefly as if the idea of Ryan being rejected was funny, but Ryan didn’t think it was amusing at all. “She wants another kid by you so that she can save the one you gave her in high school.”

The one he gave her in high school?
Ryan stared into Matt’s gaze and felt his stomach flip over. For a split second, the thought—he hoped in vain—that this was just a joke, a sick joke his friend had decided to play on him. But Matt’s eyes didn’t hold their usual humor. “You are serious, aren’t you?”

Matt nodded. “You have a five-year-old son. Riley.”

Ryan thought he felt his heart drop from his chest into his stomach. He had a son. “How long have you known? Why didn’t you tell me?” He stared at his best friend as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“Not long. She forced me not to tell you, threatened to tell the press. I had to think of your career, your endorsements. I had to protect you, Ry.”

Ryan shook his head and regarded his friend in a new light. Matt had betrayed him. The one person he was supposed to trust with his life had betrayed him.

• • •

Ryan stumbled into his house, his eyes focusing on everything and nothing at the same time. He took a swig from his bottle of whiskey, then cradled it to his chest. He had a kid and possibly another baby on the way. He knew that he should probably be with Bailey—Kennedy—at that moment, demanding answers, but she wasn’t in the phone book, and he had no idea where she lived. He wished that she had told him about this herself. Five years ago. But he couldn’t blame her for protecting herself and their son. He was sick. He was the worst father and probably the worst human being that ever walked the earth.

And he was angry at Kennedy. Then he was angry at himself for being angry. What other choice had he given her? He had skipped town right after prom. It was his fault that they were both in this situation, that his son grew up without a father and that he was sick. Ryan crawled into bed and let sleep take over. He was too exhausted, hurt and angry to do anything else but sleep.

The next morning, his head pounded with each stride that he took. He swallowed the bile burning the back of his throat and tried to ignore the pain in his temples. Ryan didn’t know how he was going to survive practice, while the excesses of the previous night sent pain like shards of glass into his skull.

“Ryan, I found her.”

“Where did you come from?” His hands flew to his ears to try and regulate the piercing excitement in Matt’s voice, peering at his friend who loomed over the foot of the bed.

“You gave me a key.”

“Give it back! You are no friend of mine.”

“I am your best friend. I found them, Ryan.” It took his hungover mind a minute to understand what Matt was telling him, “You found Bailey and Riley?”

“I did. This hot number at the bank helped me. Of course, I had to ask her on a date and bribe her with Rebel championship tickets and she—”

“MATT!”

“Sorry, I’ve got an address.”

“Let’s go.”

“You’ve got practice, Ryan. And the championship in two weeks. If you aren’t here every single day, they’ll give your spot to that new kid they just traded for. You worked too hard for this, bro. Don’t throw it away now.”

“Are you going to give me the address?”

“Not until the end of practice.”

“You’re not serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Best friend, huh?”

“The very best.” Matt offered him an apologetic smile. “Now get your ass to practice. I’ll drive you.”

Ryan agreed to go to practice, not because Matt had told him to, but because he was postponing the inevitable. He needed to get his alcohol-soaked head together. Most importantly, he had to find the right words to apologize, to offer his help and to convince Kennedy to let him help. And he needed to push his anger aside, no matter how difficult. Ryan had tried convincing himself not to be angry, to take the blame. But Kennedy had kept his son away from him. All this time she could have told him, it didn’t matter how big of a grudge she had for him.

But that didn’t matter now. It couldn’t.

His son needed him.