Sometimes You Fall: Carrington Cove Book 3 (Carrington Cove Series), page 7
“What the fuck?” Launching myself from my recliner, I head for the window, peering through the blinds as a few figures move around the building, their flashlights casting shadows against the ground and walls. “Oh, hell no.” I stalk toward my room and head straight for my gun safe, entering the code and grabbing my shotgun. I shove a few shells in my pocket before slipping on my shoes and ripping my front door open.
I don’t plan on shooting anyone, but I know that the sound of a shotgun being cocked is enough to make anyone think twice about what they’ve done.
Carrington Cove might be a small town, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t bad seeds here like anywhere else. It’s moments like this that I’m glad I installed an alarm system in the garage when I bought the place from Mr. Rogers. He never saw the need for it, but I wanted to protect my investment. There’s a lot of money sitting in that shop, and as my phone vibrates in my pocket, alerting me that the sensors have been tripped and the police notified, I’m grateful the alarm is silent. It gives me a chance to surprise the intruders myself.
Noise and voices echo from inside the garage as I get closer. I think I saw three shadows, but there could be more men than that.
“Come on!” one of the voices whisper-shouts. “You’re running out of time.”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” another voice whispers back. I draw closer to the building, slipping inside the front door and tiptoeing through the office they just went through.
“Don’t be a pussy. You want to be on the team, right? Then prove it.”
The more I listen, the more aware I become that these voices don’t belong to men. Hell, one of the kids sounds like he just went through puberty.
Holding my gun, I debate what to do. I don’t want them to piss their pants, so I set the gun by the door and reach for my phone, ready to turn on the flashlight. I wait for the right moment to make my move. Sirens wail in the distance, so I know the police are almost here, but I’ll be damned if these kids get away before I get a chance to let them know whose business they fucked with.
“Hurry up!”
A loud crash of metal on metal assaults my ears, followed by laughter. When the sound of breaking glass follows in a matter of seconds, I rip open the door. “Hey!”
Three teenage boys twist to face me, eyes wide and terrified. The one holding the baseball bat drops it to the floor and freezes while one of the others screams, “Run!”
I barely have a second to realize the kid with the bat crushed the hood in on the Nova before they all take off in different directions. Since bat boy thought vandalizing my car was his idea of a fun Friday night, I run after him.
I lose track of where the other two boys went as I close in on bat boy, who is sprinting toward the back exit. With a quick lunge, I grab the hood of his jacket and yank him back.
“No!” he shouts as he falls to the concrete floor, still trying to wriggle free. But I pounce on him, pinning him to the ground beneath me, holding his hands at his sides.
“Gotcha, you little shit!”
“Get off of me!”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
The sound of a boot hitting a door pulls my attention to the reception area, and three police officers come barreling into the garage, their guns poised.
“Hands in the air!” Frank, one of the officers I know fairly well, yells when he sees me pinning the kid to the floor.
“It’s me, Frank. I caught one of the kids who broke in, but the other two got away.”
The kid beneath me struggles to throw me off, but I’ve got a hundred pounds on him, easily. I’ve put on a shit ton of muscle because working out became one of the only things I could focus on after my career ended. But I give him points for at least continuing to put up a fight. He’s gonna need that gumption to get out of this.
Frank lowers his gun, signaling to the other two officers to do the same. “Where did the other two go?”
“Outside, I think. They probably slipped through the back.”
“Go check outside,” Frank tells his companions before walking over to us. “What’s your name, kid?” he asks the boy, who’s finally stopped moving.
He scowls up at Frank, his jaw clenched. “I’m not telling you.”
“Well, we can do this the hard way, then.” He reaches for the radio attached to his chest. “I’ve got a suspect in custody. Attempted burglary, trespassing, breaking and entering, and he’s not willing to talk. I’ll be bringing him in to stay the night in a cell. Get it ready for him, will ya?”
“You’re taking me to jail?” the kid cries out in disbelief.
“If you don’t want to talk, a night in a cell should help change your mind really quickly.”
“Fine. My name is Chase. Chase Warner,” he grates out and then looks up at me. “Can you get off of me now?”
I glance up at Frank who nods. “I’ll put him in cuffs. He’s not going anywhere.”
Once I stand up and Frank secures the kid with his hands cuffed in front of him, sulking against the wall, I walk over to the Nova to assess the damage. Frank tries to get ahold of the kid’s parents.
“Fuck.” Staring at my car, I clench my jaw so hard my teeth threaten to crack. The hood is wrecked, dented so deep in the middle that I know there’s no salvaging it. One of the brand-new headlights I just replaced is shattered too.
Glaring back at the kid, I debate going over there and asking what the fuck his problem is, but Frank strides up to me before I can move. “His mom is on her way.”
“Good. Any luck catching the other two?”
Frank shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. The best bet we have is getting the kid to squeal on his friends.”
“Snitches get stitches, Frank. The kid isn’t going to talk.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Once I tell the mom he’s facing charges of trespassing, vandalism, and breaking and entering, she might force him to talk.”
I snort. “Anything else we can charge him with?”
Frank leans closer to me, lowering his voice. “You’re certain you want to press charges?”
I gesture to my car. “Are you looking at the same classic car with the dented in hood and busted headlight that I am?”
Nodding, he takes a step back. “I get it, but he’s a kid.”
“Who broke into my garage, destroyed my car, and…”
Before I can finish, the door from the reception area swings open violently and the last person I expected to see races in. “Chase! Chase?”
“Scottie?” My feet move toward her on instinct.
“Grady,” she breathes out, her hair as wild as her eyes. “Where’s Chase?”
I spin my head around, wondering if I’m being punked. “Wait…”
“Oh my God.” She pushes past me, heading right for the kid, her robe open and flowing behind her.
Fuck.
The kid’s name is Chase.
Scottie’s son’s name is Chase.
This is Scottie’s son.
And my night just got a lot more fucking interesting.
Chapter six
Scottie
“What the hell is going on?” I stare down at my handcuffed son, trying to wrap my head around this. My lungs are barely taking in air, but I’m certainly wide awake now.
When Chase asked if he could hang out at his new friend Jared’s house, I was so damn excited that he was making friends that I didn’t think twice before agreeing. I never imagined something could go wrong—so terribly wrong.
I was also ecstatic thinking about the fact that I could go to sleep before eight o’clock without feeling guilty for not spending time with my son. The exhaustion and persistent nausea have been wearing on me all week. It was all I could do to make it to Friday.
And now, as I stand in the same space as Grady, the other issue I’ve been avoiding looms over me, reminding me that I have to tell him my news eventually. But tonight is definitely not the time, given our current circumstances.
“Ma’am, your son was caught trespassing, breaking and entering, and vandalizing Mr. Reynolds’ business tonight.” The officer explains what transpired since he didn’t get a chance to on the phone. As soon as I heard that my son was being arrested, I cut him off and asked for the address, shaking with nerves as I raced toward Grady’s Garage.
I already knew that avoiding Grady was no longer possible, but this is not how I envisioned our reunion going.
“Chase Matthew Warner! Have you lost your damn mind?”
“It wasn’t my idea!” he yells, as if that excuse is going to get him anywhere.
I pull my robe tighter around my body and peer around at the destruction in the garage. “That’s funny—because you’re the only one in handcuffs right now, so how the hell are you supposed to convince me that someone else is responsible for destroying Grady’s car?”
Chase’s eyes dart to Grady and then back to me. “You know this guy?”
Grady grunts, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “Ha. Yeah, we know each other.”
“Shit,” my son mutters, hanging his head.
“Watch your language and start talking,” I demand.
With his eyes still focused on the ground, Chase begins to mumble. “Jared said he wanted to take me and the other kid somewhere, have us prove that we wanted to be on the team.”
“What team?” Grady interjects.
“The baseball team,” I answer for my son as Grady huffs out a breath.
“Of fucking course,” he grates, running his hand through his hair as he starts to pace the floor. But I can only track his movement from the corner of my eye because my main focus is my kid and how badly I want to strangle him right now.
“So they convinced you to break into the garage and vandalize a car?” I shriek, my voice echoing off the walls of the garage. “And you just listened to them?”
“What’s the other kid’s name?” The officer chimes in.
Chase’s eyes dart to the side, but I bend down, grab his chin, and force him to meet my gaze. “Tell the officer right now before this gets even worse for you, kid.”
“Trent. Trent McDonald,” he mutters.
“And Jared? What’s his last name?” The officer scribbles on a notepad.
“Brown,” Chase says as I release his chin and stand up straight again. But as I do, a wave of dizziness hits me, and I feel myself starting to sway.
“Whoa, Scottie.” Grady grabs me before I fall, holding me in his arms.
And God, he smells good. Like soap and sweat. His scent—it’s one of the few things that hasn’t instantly triggered my nausea.
Absolutely not, little one. I refuse to be one of those pregnant women who eats soap or craves dirt. Get it together.
Rubbing my stomach, I let Grady guide me over to a chair. “Are you all right?” he asks, concern etched on his face.
I peer up at him, wondering how on earth I’m going to get through this.
One thing at a time, Scottie.
“Yeah, I just got up too fast.”
“Mom?” Chase calls out to me, pleading with his eyes. My son doesn’t do this shit. Sure, he’s a teenager and makes stupid choices more often than not, but this is beyond stupid. This is illegal.
I look up at Grady. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“Which part?” He folds his arms across his chest and glares down at me.
“Not here,” I say soft enough that he can hear me, but quiet enough that Chase can’t.
Grady glances over to my son but returns his gaze to mine quickly, giving me a curt nod. His eyes, they’re full of anger. I’m sure he’s pissed about his car, but I’m also not so naïve to think that some of that anger isn’t reserved for me.
The officer clears his throat, breaking through our moment. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to know what you want to do, Grady. Do you want to press charges?”
I stand from the chair, placing a hand on his chest. “Grady, please. I know you’re pissed, but this is my kid. I promise, we’ll pay for the damages, but—”
“I don’t know.” His jaw clenches as I wait for him to continue. “I think we all need to cool off and maybe we can sit down and talk tomorrow,” he says, cutting me off.
My shoulders fall as I sigh with relief. “I’d appreciate that.”
The officer nods, scribbles another note on his pad, then proceeds toward my son, unlocking the cuffs from around his wrists. “You’re free to go home with your mother tonight, son, but this isn’t over. You’ve just had your first brush with the law, and if I were you, I’d be hell-bent on making it your last. Otherwise, you and I will get to know each other very well, and I’m not someone you want to be friends with.”
Chase stares at the ground and nods.
“Thank you, officer.”
“Frank Davidson, ma’am.” He reaches out to shake my hand.
“Scottie Warner. And again, thank you for calling me.”
“Of course.” He tips his chin toward Grady and then leaves the three of us alone.
“Grady…” I start, but he shakes his head at me and starts heading for the door.
“Warner,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Definitely not Scottie Daniels anymore.”
“Warner is my married name.”
He glares at me. “I’m putting the pieces together, Scottie.”
“Look, I know it’s late, but…”
“I meant what I said, Scottie. I need…” He winces as he looks back at me. “I need some time to wrap my head around this.”
Knowing better than to push any further, I swallow down my rebuttal and gesture for my son to follow me out to the car. Chase launches from the floor and stands behind me. “Can I come by tomorrow then?” I ask.
Grady doesn’t meet my eyes, but I can see the strain in his muscles as he clenches his fists. “Yeah, that should be fine. What time?”
“Probably the afternoon.”
“You know where I live,” he says, and in that moment, I feel like it’s a dig, a reminder that I’ve been in his home, in his bed, and I left without saying goodbye.
But there will never be a goodbye between me and Grady because, no matter how much I wish I could let him be, that’s virtually impossible now that I’m carrying his baby.
***
“Give me your phone.” The second we walk through our front door, I face my son head-on.
Chase hands over the device willingly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Sorry isn’t going to fix this mess, Chase.” And you’re not the only one who has things to fix here. “I’m so disappointed in you.” He nods, not daring to argue. “You broke the law tonight, and you’re not even fifteen! Do you realize that if Grady decides to press charges, this could follow you around for years? This could affect your entire future!”
“But you said that you know him, so can’t you talk to him? Get him to cut me some slack?”
“Slack?” I shriek. “Just what do you think he should do, Chase? What if I didn’t know the man whose business you broke into? Huh? What would you propose I do then?” He shrugs, avoiding my eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I say, “Look, it’s late. I need sleep and a level head to even begin to think of how I want to handle this. But just know, you are grounded until you’re eighteen.”
His head pops up. “Eighteen?”
“If you’re lucky. Now go to your room.” I point down the hallway, and he wisely obeys, walking to his room and shutting the door behind him.
As the door clicks shut, I let out a long, shaky breath, the reality of the night sinking in. Heading back to my room, I shut myself inside and enter the bathroom, studying myself in the mirror.
I’m twenty all over again, holding my stomach as I take in a few deep breaths, wondering how on earth I’m going to handle this. Nothing prepares you for being a parent, and I sure as hell have never had to deal with anything like this with Chase. Sure, he has problems putting his laundry in the basket instead of on the floor right next to it, his room smells like rotten feet no matter how much Febreze I spray, and his idea of communicating most of the time is rolling his eyes or grunting. But he’s a good kid.
This was supposed to be a fresh start for us. Instead, I feel like we came in full throttle, only to run headfirst into a brick wall. And to top it all off, now I’ll have another child to raise and wonder what kind of trouble they’ll get into. How am I supposed to navigate all of this on my own?
I should have guessed I was pregnant weeks ago, but with the move, my mind was focused on other things. I didn’t even realize I missed my period, and the nausea didn’t start right away, same as when I was pregnant with Chase. With him, all of my symptoms started later in the first trimester and lasted well into my fifth month. Here’s hoping this pregnancy is easier, but given my age, I’m even more nervous about what to expect.
I have one child with a man I can’t stand, a child who thought breaking the law to fit in with his new friends was a good idea, and another on the way with a man that can barely stand to look at me right now. And if Andrew finds out about this? I don’t even want to think about how he’ll react and what he might do.
History is repeating itself, and I’m the fool who thought I’d learned from my past.
Tomorrow I will talk to Grady, ask for forgiveness for me and my son, and let him know that he’s going to be a father. I will stand my ground, assure him that nothing between us has to change, and then we can just both move on with our lives.
I’ve done this before, and I can do it again. Only this time, I’m not going to let my heart get involved. That’s how I got in trouble in the first place, and the last thing I need is heartache on top of everything else.
***
Just after three in the afternoon, I pull into the driveway of Grady’s house and shut my car off. Chase is under the supervision of my mom and Gigi while I’m gone so I don’t have to worry about him getting himself in trouble again. I haven’t told them what happened last night yet, but they know something’s up since Chase looked like a puppy dog with his tail tucked between his legs when I dropped him off, and he’s without a cell phone.
