Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ryder

  My practice session with Cally is almost over when I see Jim walking over to us.

  “Good hitting today. Go get changed,” I say.

  She runs off the court and disappears into the change rooms.

  “How’s things?” Jim asks, putting his hand out. I smile, shaking it.

  “Pretty good. I think the pressure is getting to her, but learning to cope with that will come with experience.” I grin. “I think she’s as shocked as everyone else that she won yesterday. I’m not used to seeing her so humble.”

  “Neither am I,” he chuckles. “So, on a serious note, I’ve literally just gotten off the phone with a friend in the division that is handling the case you asked me to look into.”

  “And?” I stiffen.

  “And they’ve just arrested two bikers in connection to it. They’ve confessed to it, blaming a drug deal gone wrong. Apparently this Tony guy learned the hard way that you don’t rip off hardened criminals. Unless these one of these guys was the ‘friend’ you were talking about, I’d say they’re in the clear.”

  Thank fucking Christ.

  “Thank you, Jim,” I sigh. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

  “Anytime. I’m glad I could help.” Jim says. “So, have you made a decision about whether you want to coach my daughter?”

  “It’s still on the table?” I ask, shocked. I thought for sure my chance had gone.

  Jim chuckles. “Of course it is. I’ve already told you, I think Cally can learn a lot from you. You’ve done so much for her in this short time, I’m looking forward to seeing what the future brings.” He slaps me on the back.

  “In that case,” I say with a grin, “you have yourself a new coach.”

  ***

  My mood is so high right now that not even the paparazzi camped outside my building can dampen it. I’m keen to get upstairs and tell Scar my news.

  I walk inside and find her holed up on the floor of the bathroom. She’s hysterical, but I can’t make sense of what she’s trying to tell me. I hear the word police and coma, and it hits me that she knows about Tony.

  “Scar,” I say, crouching down beside her. I cup her face in my hands. “Listen to me. You need to calm down.”

  “Jake,” she sobs. “I can’t go to jail, Ryder.”

  “Listen to me,” I say, tilting her chin so our eyes meet. “You’re not going to jail. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “But the police—”

  “Got it wrong,” I finished for her. “Tony is a bad guy—you know that. There were lots of people after him. It was a botched drug deal, Scar, not you. He ripped off some pretty serious crims.”

  “How do you know this?” she asks, her wide eyes glued to mine.

  “Cally’s father is an attorney,” I explain. “I had him look into it for me.”

  I sink to the floor, holding her in my arms. My hands run down her back as I let her cry. I know the relief she’s feeling right now must be huge.

  “Thank God,” she whispers. “I thought it was . . . I thought . . .” Her voice trails off, giving way to a fresh round of tears. “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, Ryder. I’m so sorry. I almost ruined everything.”

  “But you didn’t. You made a mistake, okay? It happens. Now we move on, and we forget about it. We forget about him.”

  “But people aren’t going to let you forget, are they?” She covers her face with her hands.

  “Scar, remember who you’re talking to? I thrive on controversy,” I chuckle. “At least I did, until I met you. So what if people have nothing better to do than talk about this for the next few weeks? It can’t be worse than a broken arse.” That earns me a smile.

  I help her stand, and lead her over to the bed. She’s unsteady on her feet, and I’m worried about her. Something still isn’t right. Even after everything, I can tell something is on her mind. My stomach tightens. I don’t think I can handle any more surprises.

  “I’m going to call a doctor.”

  “No!” She blushes, the loudness of her voice startling even herself. “I don’t need a doctor,” she adds, her voice quiet.

  “You’ve been off for days, Scar. I think you should—”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Holy mother of what?

  “Pregnant?” I repeat. I’m stunned. My hand rises to my face and I rub my jawline. “How?”

  “Surely with the number of times you’ve had sex, you can figure that one out.”

  “Not what I meant, Scar. When—” I stop as it hits me: the only time we’ve had unprotected sex was that night I shagged her out of revenge. Fuck. I’m pissed at myself, because that is not how I wanted to bring a kid into this world.

  “I’m going to bed,” she mutters. She pulls away from me, but not before she kisses me. “I don’t want to talk about this now, okay?”

  She’s out of the room before I can respond, and I’m left standing there alone. I know I should go after her but I’m unable to move as my mind tries to process what she’s just said.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Me, a father?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Scarlett

  Rolling over in the bed, I run my hand over the smooth, silky white sheets. Empty. I force my eyes open and sit up, confused as to why I’m alone. He’s never up before me. He’s the most non-morning person I know. I slide the covers back and stand up, reaching for my robe and wrapping it around my waist.

  “Ryder?” I call out.

  The silence of his apartment greets me. I hadn’t woken when he came to bed last night, and now he’s gone before I get up? My heart sinks as I immediately think the worst. I dropped a pretty big bombshell on him last night.

  Sighing, I walk through to the kitchen and make myself a mug of green tea. My stomach feels a little more settled this morning. I hope that’s a sign that the worst of the nausea is over. I can barely remember what being pregnant with Jake was like, but I don’t remember being this sick. And tired. I feel like all I want to do is sleep all day.

  I’m just about to walk away from the kitchen when I see the handwritten note sitting on the counter. I pick it up and smile.

  You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll see you after the match. Love you.

  Shit. I had completely forgotten that Cally was playing again today. My heart races as I read his words. He’s not avoiding me. That’s a good sign. And he said he loves me. I walk over to the sofa and sit down with my tea and the note, which I read again and again, each time bringing another smile to my face.

  I switch on the television and lay back, my hand resting on my stomach as I watch the tennis. Excitement surges through me as I think about the life growing inside me. There are so many things I wish I could have given Jake when he was growing up—things I’d be able to give this baby. I can’t wait to tell Jake that he’s going to have a little brother or sister.

  ***

  I wake up to the sound of cheering. It takes me a second to realize I’d fallen asleep on the sofa while watching the tennis. My half-full tea is stone cold, but I drink it anyway. Ryder’s face flashes on the screen. Holy shit, this is Cally’s match. I reach for the volume and turn it up.

  “…defeated American teenager Cally Harmer in straight sets, 6-2, 6-3.”

  Damn. She lost. But considering this was her first major competition, she did pretty well. I watch Cally pack her tennis bag and walk off the court as the camera zooms in on Ryder again. My heart swells. I still can’t believe how freaking lucky I am. I’m the envy of every woman in the world because he’s all mine.

  We’ve already overcome so many obstacles. I’m both excited and scared to see what the future brings. In the back of my mind, I’m wondering where we go from here. We live in different countries. Our lives are so different. I can’t expect him to pack up his life and move to the US . . . can I?

  “Did you see that shot?” Jake cries, his eyes wide.

  I laugh and shake my head. Ever since Ryder came into our lives, Jake has been obsessed with tennis—to the point where he’s become somewhat of an expert, arguing over line calls and cheering on his favorite players. I’m embarrassed to admit that even now, after spending all this time with Ryder—I cannot fucking stand tennis.

  I can’t think of anything more torturous than watching two people hit a ball around for hours on end. I seriously hate it with a passion. Not that I’ll ever tell him that. I don’t think he could handle any more revelations from me.

  “Ryder!” Jake exclaims.

  I look behind me, surprised. I wasn’t expecting him to be here for hours. I stand up as he walks over. His arm brushes over my back sending tingles down my spine as he moves past me and over to Jake.

  “How’s my favorite boy doing?” he grins.

  “Do you think I could be a ball boy when my lungs are fixed?” he asks seriously.

  Ryder messes his hair. “You can be whatever you want, mate. But on one condition.”

  “What?” he asks, wide-eyed.

  I smile. I love watching the two of them together. Jake loves him so much and I can see the feeling is mutual.

  “I need your permission.”

  What? I eye him curiously because I have no idea what he’s doing. What does he have up his sleeve? What does he need my seven-year-old sons permission for?

  “Is this about you and Mommy?”

  “What makes you ask that?” Ryder asks, a smile playing on his lips.

  “You want to have a sleepover with Mommy,” Jake explains earnestly.

  I hold back a laugh as Ryder looks at me for help and I shrug. He’s on his own for this and I cant wait to see where this is going.

  “Max told me adults have sleepovers so they can make babies,” Jake continues. “Are you and Mommy going to make a baby? Because I don’t want a sister. I want a brother. Can I name him? I want to call him Steven.”

  I lose it. I begin to laugh. Poor Ryder is standing there with a bewildered look on his face. Finally he smiles.

  “This isn’t going how I expected it to,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

  He slaps his hands together and sits down, pulling a small box out of his pocket. Opening it, he sets it on the table in front of Jake. Even from where I’m standing, I can see the sparkle of the huge solitaire diamond.

  “Jake, I want to marry your Mum.”

  “What?” I blurt out. My hands fly to my mouth. Did I just hear him correctly?

  “Will that make you my daddy?” Jake asks.

  “Yes. I’d love to be your dad, Jake,” Ryder smiles.

  Jake thinks for a moment. “Can I take you to school for show and tell?”

  “Sure,” Ryder laughs. “Why not?”

  “Are you serious?” I demand, walking over to him.

  He shrugs. “If the kid wants to take me for show and tell—”

  “No, you idiot,” I interrupt, whacking him on the arm. “Are you really asking me to marry you?”

  “Technically, I haven’t asked you yet. I’ve only asked Jake for permission,” he smirks.

  “Ryder!” I shout. If I don’t get a straight answer out of him, I might just kill him.

  He takes my hand and pulls me close. “Yes. Scar, I love you and Jake. I want us to be a family. The four of us.”

  “So you are going to make a baby?” Jake asks suspiciously. “Remember, I don’t want a sister. I don’t like girls.”

  I laugh and curl my hands around Ryder’s neck, pressing my lips against his. I can hear Jake giggling in the background.

  “Is that a yes?” Ryder whispers in my ear.

  I nod and then laugh, kissing him again.

  “What are we going to do if it’s a girl?” he mutters under his breath.

  I giggle. “We’ll figure that part out when we come to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ryder

  “So, you’re sure about this?” Scar asks nervously.

  I laugh and look around my empty apartment. It’s a little late to be second-guessing this.

  “You’re asking me that now? After sending half my shit over to Chicago?”

  “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through,” she retorts. “Moving over there, it’s a big deal.”

  “Scar, I’ve been living out of a suitcase on tour for the last eight years. I think I’ll cope,” I chuckle. “I want to be with you, okay? Besides, did you hear my mother when we told her? She’d kill me if I let you go.”

  I press my mouth against hers and she smiles. I smirk, because I’m pretty sure she’s looking forward to being a part of my extended family almost as much as she’s looking forward to being with me.

  “Okay. Then let’s do this.”

  I drop Scar and Jake off at the airport, because there is something I still need to do—something I want to do in person. The whole drive over to his office, I think about what I’m going to say. I’m still so angry, and I can’t figure out how he didn’t see that she wasn’t a willing participant.

  I knock on the door and walk in. He looks surprised to see me.

  “Ryder, what the hell? I’ve been trying to get onto you for days. What’s this I hear about you taking a coaching position in the states? When were you planning on telling me this?” he glares at me.

  “That’s why I’m here,” I say. I glance at the photo of him and his family that sits on his desk. Rage fuels inside me as I stare at his kids, all smiling and happy. “Nice photo.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbles, his brow furrowing. “When do you leave?”

  “Now.” I exhale slowly.

  I had it all worked out before I walked in here, and now my head is just a mess of irrational thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about him forcing her to… My hands clench into fists beside me.

  “Are you okay? You look a little off,” he says. The concern in his voice is genuine, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late for concern. I don’t want to hear any of what he has to say.

  “I’m only going to say this once, Matt. You make me sick.”

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand and silence him.

  “How many times have you cheated on your wife?” I ask.

  “Excuse me?” he gasps. “How dare you —”

  “Cut the crap, Matt,” I snort, storming over to him. “You think I care about your inability to be faithful to your wife? No. That makes you a wanker, but forcing someone into sex just because you think you paid for her?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Matt growls, perplexed. “I’ve never—”

  “You have and you did,” I yell, slamming my fists down on his desk. “It was Scarlett, Matt. You raped her. How could you do that to someone? How could you think you own someone like that?”

  He steps out from around his desk. I stare into his eyes and all I see is fear and regret. Fear that maybe his wife will find out? Maybe she should know.

  “Ryder, please. I was going through some shit. I don’t even remember it that clearly. It was years ago and I had no idea it was her.”

  “You might not remember,” I say softly. “But she does. She remembers every fucking day. You ruined her life.”

  “Let me explain…” His voice trails off and I laugh, because there is nothing he could possibly say to me right now to make this right.

  I reach out and grab his shirt, swinging my fist into his face. He stumbles back into his desk and falls to the floor, cursing.

  “That’s for fucking up her life. Goodbye, Matt.”

  I walk out the door and don’t look back.

  Epilogue

  Eight weeks later

  Ryder

  “Hey.” I smile at Scar, and pull her into my arms. She looks as stunning as she did this morning. I run my hand over her slight baby bump as I press my lips against hers. She laughs, running her hands through my hair.

  “You’re in a good mood.” She giggles.

  “Aren’t I always?” I tease. “You better not have been unpacking,” I warn her. She holds her hands up innocently, but the glint in her eye tells me she has been. “Don’t make me punish you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her waist.

  Our new place is in one of the best school districts in Chicago—complete with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Scar is twelve weeks pregnant and Jake is still insisting that he won’t accept a sister.

  Things are great. They really couldn’t be going any better. I love my coaching role—even if Cally still is a giant pain in my ass—and I don’t hate living in the states as much as I thought I might. But I might not be saying that in a few years.

  Jake’s treatment is progressing well. The medication is still doing its thing, and while we have no idea what the future holds, we have to stay positive, because the alternative isn’t an option.

  Tony remained in a coma for forty-five days, at which point he passed away. Scar still struggles with the guilt she feels over his death, even though she had nothing to do with it. We went to his funeral, because in a way it was like burying her past once and for all. I think it helped, but I also think it’s something she’s going to carry with her forever.

  I haven’t spoken to Matt since I punched him, and I don’t intend to. As far as I’m concerned, he is a part of my past. I never told Scar that I went to see him that day.

  “Aren’t you going to be late?” Scar asks, raising her eyebrows.

  I narrow my eyes at her. “We’ll continue this later, but I swear if you do anything else to this house, I’ll tie you to the bed.”

  “I like the sound of that, you kinky bastard,” she giggles, biting her lip.

  “I’ll see you later,” I whisper, kissing her again, and wishing I could skip this training session. But that wouldn’t be setting a very good example. “Love you.”

  She kisses me in such a way that has me on the verge of calling in sick, and then pushes me out the door, a smirk on her lips.

  “Go. I love you, but I have unpacking to do.”

 

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