Thin Love (52 page)

Keira walks around the room, head shaking as though the memory of those years plays back again, exhausting her. “I had to take care of my son and I had to make sure I was careful not to take any easy ways out. In my business when you’re starting out only your talent and reputation is what separates the real artists from the posers. I wasn’t about to have anyone finding out my son’s father was the new rich darling of the NFL.

“Besides, the last time I saw you, you blamed me for Luka’s death.” She pauses and Kona can see her temper surfacing. It’s familiar and he can’t look at her, not without seeing her in that jail, raging at him. He closes his eyes to block out the memory and hears Keira coming closer. “You hated me, Kona. I didn’t want my son to see that anger. He is all I have. Aside from Leann, Ransom is my only blood. You had your mother, your grandfather and I didn’t think any of you would thank me for reminding you of what you’d lost, for landing on your doorstep with a baby you’d fathered with a woman you hated. Raising him was hard. He came early; I had high blood pressure and he was a full six weeks early. So I did what I could. I worked in a diner for years, waiting tables, cleaning my boss’s home and she helped as much as she could. Bobby became family, but she was almost as broke as I was. It was desperate sometimes, but it was something I did. I wasn’t about to throw all of that away by being called a gold digger or some slut that was coming out of the woodwork just as your star was rising. “

In his mind, it makes sense. Her reasons, her desperation to prove herself. She’d been alone as Kona worked his way into success. He knows that. His brain tells him that it makes perfect sense. But his heart is another matter; years, so many years she’s kept this to herself. She’s kept his child from him. She refused to let him protect either of them and his heart overrules his mind. “You’re a selfish bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are.” His voice rises, echoes around the room as Kona makes for the bar, needing something to do with his hands. “You’re a selfish bitch.” He slams back a drink and pours another before Keira stands behind him.

“Well, that’s helpful. Still up to old habits?”

Kona looks at the glass in his hand, then back at Keira’s bunched up features and that critical scowl on her face. “You know, what? Fuck you. You don’t get to come in here and start judging me like I’m still a stupid twenty year old. A couple of drinks because I’m pissed off doesn’t make me a drunk and I didn’t get where I am by juicing if that’s what you’re thinking. Six months in jail, Keira. Six months of me dodging Ricky’s boys when I testified against him. Six months and I crawled back to CPU, begged the coach to give me another shot. I worked my ass off. So, yeah, fuck you if you think you of all people can start judging me. I’m not the one who has lied to you for sixteen years. I’m not the one who was too damn proud to tell me I had a fucking child!” Keira barely blinks when Kona throws the glass against the wall, scattering chunks of ice and glass over the carpet.

She watches the darkened spot on the gray wall, but doesn’t get upset, doesn’t do more than let her gaze slip back to Kona. “I was protecting him.”

“You were protecting yourself. You were doing what you always did… you were trying to prove that you didn’t need anyone. So yeah, selfish bitch.”

Keira’s expression darkens and when she takes a step, her bright eyes flashing, Kona thinks he sees a hint of the old Keira surface. He thinks she might want to hit him, he almost expects it. But Kona isn’t the same. He won’t let her touch him like that again. Instead of a violent reaction, Keira turns away from him, with her shoulders straight and Kona doesn’t miss the cool way she breathes in and out or how she closes her eyes.

Finally, when her expression softens, Keira sits back on the sofa, nods at the empty space to her left until Kona sits next to her. “Maybe I was selfish and I’m sorry. I really am. But I was scared and young and determined not to fail.”

Kona understands that, recognizes the memory of his years struggling to prove himself; taking what every cocky offensive lineman gave him. He’d been determined too and it had made him stronger. It made him successful. He couldn’t blame Keira for doing the same.

He doesn’t speak, needs a moment to remember himself, to remember all the lessons his struggles taught him. A quick pull of his mouth as he realizes he hasn’t been this angry, let his temper slip this quickly since he was a kid. Since he was around Keira. Only she could make that swell of rage bubble in his chest so quickly.

She watches her hands again, slides her palm up her arm and Kona frowns, guessing that it hadn’t been easy for her, all those years. He’d managed because he had only himself to think about. He had a family that encouraged him, gave him the strength he needed to excel. Keira had none of that and it’s this moment that Kona realizes where the greatest source of his anger comes from. He’d always wanted to protect her. He promised her he would. And when the time came, she hadn’t let him.

Keira breaks the silence with a long breath, her words rushing out as though she’s afraid of them. “What do you want from us, Kona?”

That instant anger returns, but Kona manages to push it down. “I’m not plotting anything if that’s what you’re thinking. Shit, I’m still trying to absorb the reality that I have a sixteen year old son.”

“You… you can’t have him.”

Kona feels his mouth drop open and he has to curl his fingers into a fist to keep them from shaking. “Is that what you think? You think I want to take him from you?”

He sees the relief in her face and unclenches his fingers. She’d been scared that he’d take away the only person she had left? “Keira… I wouldn’t…”

“You have resources I don’t. You’re angry, I understand that, I really do, and whether you believe me or not, my biggest regret is that you didn’t get the chance to raise your son.” Kona cocks up an eyebrow and Keira rolls her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s my fault. But he’s all I have left. He’s my world and we are close, very close. He’s had some… issues.” Kona doesn’t like the change in her features, how her mouth dips, the faint wrinkle under her eyes. “The past few years have been hard.”

“What issues?”

A small, critical laugh, and Keira leans back, moves her body around to face him. “God Kona, he’s our son. He’s anger has become a significant problem. He threw a kid through a plate glass window last year when he tried to attack Ransom’s friend. It was bad. The school expelled him and there was a lot of kickback from the boy’s family. They’re well off and Ransom was forced into counseling. He got community service and had to do anger management. He was devastated, embarrassed that he went off like that.” The worry is immediate. He hasn’t even met his boy and already Kona is anxious. Keira must see that in his features, in the swift frown he can’t help, because she leans toward him, touches his wrist. “He’s trying, we’re trying, but it’s difficult. He only feels better, is able to control himself when he’s on the field or in front of a piano.”

“He plays? Football?” The muscles around his mouth relax and Kona smiles at Keira, excited.

“He’s really, really good. Defensive back. He’s been scouted since the end of last year. Us being here is stressful. He loves his school, it’s exclusive, but he’s doing correspondence courses until we get back home. He misses being on the field.”

When she shakes her head, laughs easy at his expression, Kona scoots closer, smile stretching. They don’t speak and he likes the easy comfort that has replaced the thick tension that filled the room the second she walked through the door. One look at her, at the way she brushes her hair behind her ear, the dimple forming with her smile and Kona knows he will forgive her.

But what about his son? How will he take the news that the father he never knew about would be entering his life? Does he hate Kona? Does he resent him? Kona’s smile leaves his face as he thinks of his own absentee father. His mother had never even let his name slip. The man died five years ago and the first time he got a look at him was in a large coffin.

He didn’t want that for his son. He didn’t want Mark Burke to continue filling in for him. “What will you tell him? About me, I mean?”

“The truth. I don’t lie to him. I may not always offer full disclosure, but I’ve never lied to him.” Kona looks away from her nodding, unusually nervous. Just the idea of meeting his son has made up, tension-filled scenarios racing in his head, but then Keira touches him again, pulls on his fingers and offers him a comforting smile. “I’ll be honest, this is going to blindside him. I don’t know how he’s going to handle it. But Kona, I’ve never once spoken badly about you to Ransom.” She squeezes his fingers. “He really is amazing and very kind.”

“When?”

Keira pulls her hand away and Kona misses the warmth from her fingers. Her shoulders straighten and she fiddles with the small ring on her pinky as though her nerves have resurfaced to niggle at her calm. “I’ll need some time. I have to tell him gently. I don’t know what he’ll say, how he’ll feel. He’s going to be mad at me, but he’s fiercely protective. I don’t know how he’ll react to you, to be honest.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Kona, I already feel like an asshole. There’s no need for you to make me feel worse. If you’re going to be in his life then you and I are going to have to act like civilized people. You can hate me on your own, not in front of my son.”

“
Our
son,” he corrects her, but his voice doesn’t shake, isn’t lifted in a shout. His gaze drops down to the floor, to Keira’s small feet, and Kona feels nervous for a different reason. “I don’t hate you. Not… not even then, I didn’t hate you.” He manages to glance at her, to push a quick smile onto his mouth before he looks back at the floor. “I was so angry about… about Lu, about me getting everyone into that shit. It took me a long time to figure that out. But this… all of this screws with my head. I’m confused, I’m disappointed that I’ve missed out on so much, but I don’t hate you, Wildcat.”

Keira doesn’t hide her smile. It is instant, seems like the quick recall of something she’d forgotten on purpose. He returns that grin, and it stays, deepens when she slides closer to him. “Can we be civil, Kona? Can we be, I don’t know—”

“You wanna be my friend?” And just like that, the zip returns. It is faint, barely recognizable, but it still crackles between them. Kona had felt the buzz of it when she touched him, trying to reassure him, but as their gazes catch, Kona feels the whip of energy return. Keira licks her lips and Kona cannot help leaning toward her; the anger and devastation of the day slips from his mind, leaves him completely as he stares at Keira and those beautiful flecks of gray in her widening eyes. “I was never your friend, Keira, you know that. I always just wanted you.” An easy lean of his shoulders and Kona’s mouth hovers near hers and Keira does not back away. “Then I needed you.”

Kona moves the small wisps of hair from her forehead with a slow drag of his finger over that soft skin. It is the same. It is exactly the same. So is her reaction to his touch, to the slow movement of his fingers against her forehead. He wants to kiss her. Despite himself, despite the anger and betrayal he feels, Kona wants to kiss Keira.

“I never asked, but you married?” His anger, his frustration at her silence had kept the question out of his mind. Now with her sitting next to him, smelling the way she does, looking the way she does, has Kona eager to know if she’d forgotten him completely.

That lulled, comfortable expression on Keira’s face relaxes further, transforms her mouth into a smirk. “No time.” Bottom lip dented beneath her teeth, Keira meets Kona’s gaze. “You?”

“No desire.”

Her eyes catch his before she closes them, before she leans away and a frustrated groan sounds from her throat. She is slow, calm and stands from the sofa, an easy nod of her head telling Kona that she isn’t really rejecting him.

“I need to go.”

He follows her, his lips tingling from that almost kiss and Kona can’t help himself, is eager to tease her now that the anger and tension has left them. “Still running, Wildcat?”

She stares at him, then down at his hand when he grabs her wrist, but Kona can tell she isn’t angry; not with that smirk on her face. Keira opens the door, but doesn’t shut it, not until she looks over her shoulder and the pretty blush he hadn’t seen in far too long warms her skin. “Don’t call me that, Kona.”

“Did you go with Tristan to the river?” Keira grabs the rubber ball her son has been bouncing against the refrigerator for the past ten minutes and arches an eyebrow at him when he tries nabbing it from the island.

“Nah.” He settles in across from her on the barstool with his leg bouncing against the footrest and takes the ball, running it along the granite surface between his hands. “He wanted to head to the Quarter. There’s a girl who works in the Riverwalk he’s been eye humping for a month.”

Keira wrinkles her nose. The visual is unwelcome and Ransom laughs at her expression. Tristan is Leann’s oldest son, just a year younger than her own and Keira remembers the day he was born; she remembers changing his diapers; he and Ransom muddy from the river just outside her small cottage in Nashville. She doesn’t want to know he’s even noticed girls, much less that he’s been eye humping one. “Please. I can’t know that.”