Roxy (Pandemic Sorrow #3) (23 page)

Chapter 29

It had been seven weeks since Jag had overdosed. He had five more weeks until he’d finish his program, and every day things grew more complicated.

The media had gone nuts when the news I was pregnant finally came out. The headlines, God, the headlines were ridiculous. I’d been said to be his lover, the reason for him nearly dying…I’d also been called a gold digger, and then, according to a few of the less reputable tabloids, I’d evidently stolen his sperm form a sperm bank and impregnated myself with a turkey baster.

Everywhere I went, I was stalked by paparazzi and Pandemic Sorrow fans. I had learned how to shut down and completely ignore it most of the time, but sometimes people really know where to cut you when they want to see blood.

“Oh, my God. Really?” Layla bitched, glaring at the girl who’d just taken a picture of me. She yanked on the shopping cart. “You can’t go to the freaking store without someone taking a picture?” “That’s insane!” The cart was stuck, and she furiously jerked it again to free it.

“Yeah, it’s annoying. I feel like the slut of the year. I’m not famous—well, I am now, thanks to this baby,” I said, rubbing over my ever-growing abdomen. “I can’t imagine how shitty it must be if you’re actually the celebrity. No wonder Jag was always flipping them off and cussing them out. They’re relentless.”

Layla stared at me. “So weird. So, so weird.”

We walked through the entrance of the store and Layla stopped. “You know, none of this would have happened had you not bought those tickets for my birthday. That’s crazy to think about. Your life totally changed because of a concert.” She giggled and pushed the cart again.

“Hey! Roxy Slade!”

I turned to see who was calling me and came face to face with three girls; three red-faced, tight-lipped girls.

Before I had a chance to respond, the one in the middle’s lip had snarled and she began to lay into me. “I
hate
you! You are
pathetic
. What the hell were you thinking? How could you fuck Jag Steele over like that? I really hope someone puts you in your place. You
don’t
deserve him, and I hope he gets that baby. You don’t
deserve
it.”

All I could do was stand there in absolute shock.

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed, jumping out from the grocery cart.

The group of girls shrugged and made their way toward the automatic doors. The middle one glanced back over her shoulder and said, “I don’t care what anyone says, I will always believe it was all your fault!”

My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t control the gasp that had worked its way up my throat.

“Stupid whores!” Layla growled. “Come on, Rox, they’re just jealous.”

That girl had believed it was my fault. I could see it in her eyes. I didn’t care that she hated me, but it slaughtered me that people actually thought I drove Jag to the point of suicide.

I loved him, and no one else seemed to see that.

Each breath came faster than the last until I was panting at the front of the store, still staring at the doors. The baby jerked, like it was punching me, agreeing with that girl that I was to blame.

“Jealous? Jealous of what, Layla?” I looked down at my rounded belly, then back up at her, trying to ignore the people staring at me.

“Jealous that I’m knocked up? That I’m alone? That my boyfriend—actually, he’s not even my boyfriend, because I broke up with him instead of telling him I was pregnant. I left him because he was at his wit’s end and desperate and drowning it all with drugs.” I nodded and made my way out to the parking lot. “Yeah, a lot to be jealous of!”

*****

When it rains, it fucking pours.

Later that same day I had an encounter I never wanted to have. It was one that had occupied my nightmares for years.

I’d just finished loading my dishwasher while listening to my Pandemic Sorrow playlist. I was wallowing in self-pity. I just wanted to hear Jag’s voice, and this was the only way I could.

I shut the door and cranked the knob, and water immediately rushed through the pipes as the motor growled to life. Using the sleeve of my robe, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and made my way to my room.

I’d just picked out a book to settle down with when there was a knock on my front door. It was loud and demanding. My gut told me that whatever was on the other side was something I wanted nothing to do with, but I ignored it, and walked to the door.

I didn’t have to look through the peephole because I heard his voice rumble through the aluminum.

“Roxanne? Please open the door.” He knocked again. “Please.”

My heart fluttered before picking up speed and hammering up into my throat. That raspy voice was my father’s.

I froze in front of the door. Then he knocked again. “I know you’re in there, Raggedy Ann.”

My muscles tightened even more when he uttered that name. He’d called me that as long as I can remember, and when I had gotten older, all it did was remind me of what I’d come from. Poverty, rags; I really felt that was how he’d felt about me, that I was just a rag doll that could be tossed to the side.

I should have just gone back to my room and shut my door, but sometimes life gives you opportunities to purge yourself; that’s what this was, and I needed it.

Slowly, I slid the chain from the lock and twisted the deadbolt. When I opened the door, I wedged myself between it and my apartment so he couldn’t come inside.

I wasn’t prepared for the way he looked. It had been years since I’d seen him.

He was wrinkled and frail. Most of his hair had fallen out, and the scraggly pieces that were left were white. Large bags hung under his eyes and the once-large man I’d feared as a child seemed small and puny, not nearly as intimidating as he had in my dreams.

“Roxanne.” His voice fell to a whisper and his eyes flooded with tears. “Baby, I’ve missed you. I’m—I’m so sorry. How’s Layla and Sean?”

The mention of my brother’s name punched me in the stomach, and my baby jumped.

He didn’t even know his own son had been dead for two years.

He went to hug me, but I jerked away. “Don’t.”

His face softened and he slowly nodded. “I know. I was a terrible person. Terrible.” He ran his hand up the scruff on his neck. “I just wanted to see you.”

“Why?” I felt my nostrils flare, and much to my surprise no tears stung my eyes.

I really didn’t love him. I couldn’t.

Shrugging, he offered, “You’re my daughter. I don’t need a reason.”

We stood there in silence for a brief moment. And just when I was about to break the news that Sean had died, he pointed at my stomach.

“Is it true? Are you having a baby with that rock star?”

That rock star has a fucking name.
“You mean Jag? Am I having a baby with Jag Steele?”

“Yeah, the rock star.”

There it was.

Why he had come to find me.

I was no longer a nobody, at least not to him. I was in tabloids, I was with a celebrity, which meant that I may have access to loads of money, and my father had never been above begging for handouts.

Between everything that had happened with Jag, with my losing my privacy, my guilt; really, just from everything that had happened in my life this, was the last piece. This reunion totally numbed me. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t sad, dejected; I really felt nothing.

“Yeah, I guess I am. Hope I made you proud, instead of getting knocked up by a random bottom-of-the-barrel addict, I went for a famous one.” I narrowed my gaze at him. “I may be your daughter, but you haven’t been a father for almost twenty years. I don’t want you in my life, I don’t need you in my life. I don’t want this baby to be exposed to that part of my past, so please forget that you have any ties to me and Layla.”

I grabbed the door, opening it to step inside. “And your son died two years ago. He overdosed on heroin. Maybe had you not been strung out or in jail…” Shaking my head, I locked my eyes on his. “A father would have known that. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead.”

As soon as the door slammed shut I locked it and marched back to my bedroom to lie down.

I hadn’t said a miniscule grain of what I wanted to say to that man, but he wasn’t worth it. In that moment I grew, because I realized that sometimes things just aren’t worth it.

Chapter 30

The sonographer squirted the cold goop onto my stomach before pressing on it with the wand thing they use to look at the baby. I let out a grunt.

“I know you need to go to the bathroom, but you did a really good job of getting your bladder full,” she laughed. “Just hold on for a few more minutes and you can go pee, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m trying.”

“There’s baby’s head,” she said, stopping to take measurements.

“Oh, Roxy. I hope it’s a girl,” Layla’s enthusiasm oozed from her words.

I’d been taking her with me. I couldn’t stand to go to these appointments alone. The first one I went to almost spiraled me into depression because I kept thinking about how it should have been Jag with me, but instead he was all alone trying to get sober.

“And baby’s heart looks great.” The technician moved the wand a little to the side and jiggled it. “Come on baby, move those little legs.”

I watched the screen, amazed at what a perfect little thing was inside my stomach. I saw the tiny toes, the itty-bitty fingers, and I was in love.

“Would you like to know what you’re having, Ms. Slade?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I would.”

“Congratulations, you are having a little girl!”

“Ohhh, I’m so freaking excited!” Layla squealed.

I felt a deep smile set over my face, tears mounting in my eyes as I watched the image of my little baby girl on that screen. Of mine and Jag’s baby.

The woman wiped the jelly from my stomach, carefully tucking the paper inside the top of my jeans. “You can go ahead and use the restroom, then just follow the corridor down to Dr. King’s exam room three.”

I nodded and hopped up to go to the restroom. As soon as I shut the door and looked into the mirror, I broke down. I hadn’t talked to Jag in almost three months. The last words I’d said to him were hurtful, and these were moments I could never get back. I’d always have the memory of my sister being there to hear what sex the baby was instead of Jag. And yes, I blamed myself.

I absolutely blamed myself for running. There’s always a last straw, there’s always something that makes that worn thread unravel when someone is on the brink; when they are lost, confused, and unable to see through the darkness. And for Jag, I had been the last push. When I acted like I didn’t believe in him, when I pretended he was no longer real, that was the pebble that had caused the landslide.

He wasn’t here with me because of my stubbornness, because of my selfish desire to not get hurt.

Not being able to have someone, and I don’t mean because they don’t want you, not because you fucked up and they left; no, not being able to have someone because you
can’t
, because you
physically
can’t get to them, because you have no way to communicate with them, and you have no idea how they feel anymore…that is torture. It was almost like he was dead because no matter what I did, I couldn’t touch him.

He was a ghost.

****

The last of the stragglers were being ushered out of the bar by security. It was three a.m. and now Sunday morning. My feet were killing me and my lower back was aching.

I fiddled with the soda gun nozzle, finally prying it loose and dropping it in the wash tub.

“You look super cute preggers, Roxy,” Tess said as she wiped down the sticky bar top.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She tossed the towel to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. “You okay?”

Nodding, I said, “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

Tess placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’ll all work out. I promise. Everything happens for a reason. I really believe that.”

Everything happens for a reason?
I didn’t believe that crock of shit. What reason was there for my mother dying, my brother—for Jag overdosing? There was no reason besides that life fucking hated people.

“Yeah, sure, Tess.”

She smiled and went back to wiping the counters.

Just as I was loosening my apron, Carlos came out from the back. “Hey ladies, you about finished up?”

“Yeah, Carlos. Just about done. Maybe five more minutes,” Tess called out.

“Hey, Roxy, can you come here for a minute?”

I looked over at Tess and she shrugged.

Shit
.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nodded and I followed him across the floor to a booth. He sat down and stared at me for a second, his eyes veering down to my mid-section.

“You feeling okay?”

Why was everyone asking me that? Did I look like I felt that bad? I was pregnant, not dying.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I’m fine.”

“You know, you might need to cut back on your shifts the further along you get, and that’s fine. I just wanted to let you know you don’t have to worry about that. It won’t be a problem…”

I fidgeted with the ties of my apron. “Thanks.”

A loud breath rushed from his lips, and he tapped his fingers over the surface of the table as he rose. He stopped at the end of the booth. “How is
he
?”

People wouldn’t even say his name anymore. I guess they were afraid it would upset me. The fact that it all looked like a complete disaster to everyone else, that there wasn’t an inkling that we’d actually fallen in love with each other still got to me.

“I don’t know, Carlos. I haven’t talked to Jag.”

He nodded and wiped his hand down his face. “Yeah, well, you know. Why don’t you just take off tomorrow, huh?” He patted the top of my head like I was a child. “You need to rest. You’ve had a lot going on. Hell, I’ll even pay you to take the day off, how about that?”

“Carlos? You can’t do that.”

“I certainly can. I’m the owner. I can do whatever I want. Now, you get some good rest. I’ll see you on your next shift.”

He walked off, disappearing behind the glass door leading to the offices. I couldn’t really argue with him. I was exhausted. I tossed and turned most nights, and I was emotionally drained.

I left, turning the radio off when a Pandemic Sorrow song came on and driving the rest of the way in silence.

*****

I flipped the light switch and laid down on the couch. I liked to lay in the dark, in the silence and just think.

My hand came to rest on my stomach, and after I’d been still for just a few moments, I felt her move. She always got active when I laid down, like she didn’t want me to be still. I felt her knee or arm or some round part of her body roll across my stomach, and I smiled.

I laid there wondering what she was going to look like, and then, of course, my mind strayed to Jag. Would she have dark, thick waves in her hair like him; would she have his full lips, his high cheekbones; would she hate me when she got older for what I’d done?

I sighed. I knew he should be home from rehab by now, and the thought of it made my chest tighten.

Stone had begged me to give Jag three days back home to deal with things. He said he wanted to bring him over, just so he could make sure Jag was okay if things didn’t go the way I’d promised.

I had to respect Stone’s wish, as much as I didn’t want to. I had reached for my phone fifty times that day to call Jag, but stopped just because of Stone pleading with me to give him time.

The fact that Jag hadn’t called me yet made me uneasy. What if he didn’t want anything to do with me now? What if he realized how selfish it was of me to ditch him the way I had?

The white flicker of lightning flashed through the window, followed shortly by a low rumble of thunder. I got up to go to my bed, and I heard a knock on the door. My heart immediately fell into the pit of my stomach and all the air in my lungs rushed from my lips. I stared at the door biting on my lip, hoping that it would be Jag on the other side.

Another knock, this one louder, more determined, broke the silence.

I placed my hand on the door and drew in a breath as I peered through the peephole. My heartbeat picked up, my palms immediately grew damp, and I closed my eyes to try and make the tears go away. I was terrified, yet relieved. Swallowing, I opened the door.

Jag stood there, his eyes widening when he saw me.

His gaze veered down to my stomach and I watched his shoulders fall. I had to say something.

“I wanted to call you. I wanted to hear your voice, but I was terrified.”

He pushed his way inside, shaking his head, rambling, “I fucked up. And you are so much more than I deserve, but I love you. I’ve never loved anyone—never
needed
someone like you. You—” His voice was shaking and he narrowed his eyes on me, grabbing the side of my face when he said, “You’re mine. I’m sorry, but you are mine and I refuse to let you go. I will fight for you, I will fight this. You are the only thing that can make me happy. You’re my meaning.”

My eyes instinctually slammed shut, warm tears seeping from their corners. I went to tell him I loved him, that I’d missed him, and that I was the one who’d fucked up, but he covered my mouth with his, rendering me helpless.

If you’ve ever been forced to be separated from the person your heart wants, you know how sweet that kiss is; the kiss of a second chance, the promise that you belong together. That feeling is unlike any other and it makes you weak. The harder he kissed me, the louder I wept, and when he finally tore away from me I crumpled into his arms, burying my face in his chest and breathing him in. My fingers clenched into his shirt, balling it up as I clung to him like my life would end if I let him go. I couldn’t hold him tight enough, I couldn’t feel him enough.

For the first time in my life something I’d lost had come back to me, and I couldn’t let that feeling go.

Jag lowered his face to my ear, breathing out the words, “I swear to you, I will not let you down. I will not lie to you. I will love you in a way no other man ever could. You are my entire damn world.” He kissed my cheek and pulled away to look in my eyes. “I may be fucked up, I may be a mess, but you are my salvation!”

“I can’t…” My sentence was swallowed by an uncontrolled sob, and it took me a second to pull myself together enough to speak. “I can’t
not
love you.”

Jag let out a pained breath of relief.

Taking his chin in my hand, I studied his face, tears still pouring from my eyes as I whispered, “I’ve tried. You ruined me. I can’t be with anyone else. I never envisioned my life with someone like you, but you—” I shook my head. “I know, deep down inside, you’re not the person you make people believe you are. You
are
Jagger. You just pretend to be that Jag Steele guy. You’re
my
perfectly flawed, shattered fucking mess.”

I kissed him, my lips crushing over his in desperation to feel the love only he could make me feel. I wrapped my fingers up in his hair to pull him closer to me. I needed to make him feel the way I did.

I needed this kiss to wash everything away so we could start over, and I needed this kiss to prove that we belonged to each other; that we were broken and could only be complete with one another.

It took everything inside of me to pull away from him. I wiped the tears from my face, then tugged him back to me, laying my lips over his as I confessed, “Sometimes it takes loss to make people realize how big of a mess they are without someone. I thought I lost you. I don’t want to feel that way again. That was death.” I stared into his eyes, wanting to make him see how much I loved him.

“When I thought you’d died, I died inside. I realized that whether I’m with you or not, it won’t take the hurt away; it won’t protect me. I’m safer with you than without.”

Jag swallowed, his hand gently caressing my stomach before his eyes darted down to it. His breath grew ragged and he fell to his knees, still holding my stomach.

“I promise you, I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never leave you. And I promise you I’ll stay clean.” He kissed my stomach, then glanced up at me. “I won’t ever break a promise to you.”

Jag rose, taking me back in his arms and it was like we’ve never been apart. There was no awkwardness, just a sense of completeness. After a long embrace, I pushed away.

“So, how are you feeling about all this?” I asked, pointing to my stomach.

His lips curled up. “I couldn’t be happier. You and this baby are the best things that could have ever happened to me. And I don’t want to ever imagine that my life would have turned out any differently.” He paused and shook his head. “Everything happens for a reason, and you—you happened to me to save me, this baby happened to save us.”

That gave me chill bumps.

We sat down on the couch and Jag dragged me into his lap. This was how my life was supposed to be, with him, always with him.

“So, I found out a few days ago what the baby is.” I tilted my head back to look at him.

He smiled. “And?”

“I see a lot of pink in your future,” I giggled.

His grin deepened. “So now I’m gonna have a queen and a little princess, huh? Couldn’t be any more perfect.”