Page 50 of Crossed Up

“And she really just left her newborn baby at the hospital with strange nurses and a man she slept with one time and spent a week in his guest room. I mean, no offense, Aidan. You’re a wonderful father. But still. I could never… I’m so sorry you had to go through that on your own,” she trails off, looking distraught.

Crew fell fast asleep between us in the fort a little while ago, and our conversation quickly turned back to Mia. I think Lyla was still processing from everything I told her earlier, so the fact that she has more questions doesn’t come as a shock.

I nod, grimacing at the memories racing to the forefront of my mind. “Here I was, this not even twenty-two-year-old kid, newly drafted and still struggling with the loss of his own father, and a nurse comes in to tell me this fragile, tiny human is now solely my responsibility.”

My hands shake in a visceral response to the emotions I remember feeling in that moment, but then Lyla slips her soft hand in mine and the tremors ease. Releasing a shaky breath, I give her a wobbly smile in thanks.

“I didn’t know the first goddamn thing about being a parent or taking care of a baby. But when I was sitting there in that rock-hard recliner in the NICU with this little one-and-a-half-pound-baby that looked more like a baby bird than a human, I took one look at him and knew I would do anything, be anything, for him. No matter who his mom was, or how shitty my own example of a father was. It took three seconds holding his tiny body to my chest for my entire world to change.”

My breath stutters in my chest. “Suddenly, I wasn’t just Aidan Black, catcher for the Charleston Raptors and son of an abusive, alcoholic asshole. I was Aidan Black, father to this perfect little boy. He became the love of my life in the span of one of his small, labored breaths, and I’ve never regretted it. Not for a single second.”

Lyla’s eyes are misted over with tears when I chance a look at her, and seeing the depth of her care for us is humbling. After growing up second best to my younger brother, having someone put us first has been enlightening, and I hate to think of how that will change if our relationship proves to be too much for her on top of dealing with her ex.

Her mouth opens to respond, but before she can get a word out, her phone starts buzzing like crazy on the couch. With a grimace, she mouths an apology before picking up the offending device, only when she sees the screen, her faces drains of color. Panic spikes in my chest at the sudden change in her demeanor, and I go to place a hand on her shoulder.

Lyla winces slightly when I reach for her, and it’s like a knife to the chest. She stopped flinching around me weeks ago, so I can only assume whatever she’s looking at either triggered or scared the hell out of her.

“Ly, what is it? What just happened?” My voice is slightly frantic, but the urge to protect her is nearly choking me.

Lyla

Aidan’s voice sounds like he’s speaking to me from above the surface as I drown underwater. My lungs refuse to expand to take in any oxygen, and the room is getting dark around the edges. The shaking in my hands increases tenfold as I read the headline and messages lighting up my screen again.

“Lyla!” The whisper-bark finally breaks through my frozen moment of panic, and I gasp, a hand automatically coming to rest over my throat. Logically, I know the bruises are long gone, but the phantom feeling of Sebastian’s fingers wrapped around my neck makes me feel like I’m being choked all over again.

Large hands cup my face, and panic takes over until the scent of the ocean surrounds me seconds before Aidan’s body heat meets my back. He picks me up effortlessly and carries me down the hall to his bedroom, not stopping until we reach his bed. I can hear the movie still playing out in the living room, and my mind immediately goes to Crew.

“Crew?” My voice is little more than a squeak, but thankfully, Aidan hears me anyway.

His eyes warm as he sits down next to me. “Crew is fine, angel. He’s out like a light, and you know that kid can sleep through a hurricane.”

I nod, the reassurance settling some of the worry in my chest. Warm fingers cover mine, and I’m surprised to find them wrapped so tightly around my phone that my knuckles are white. With a concentrated effort, I release the device, letting it drop into Aidan’s hand. I stretch out my fingers with a sigh and direct an embarrassed look his way.

“Sorry I freaked out.”

He shakes his head and scoots a few inches closer so our hips are touching. With one calloused finger, he lifts my chin so I’m meeting his icy blue gaze. “You never have to apologize to me, Ly. Do you want to talk about it?”

A month ago, the thought of talking about any of this would have sent me running for the hills, but after deciding to give a relationship with Aidan a real chance, I know he needs the truth when things like this happen. Even if he doesn’t know that’s what I’ve decided yet. Now isn’t the time to tell him anyway.

Sighing, I point to my phone. “A news article came out today and was sent to me anonymously, along with some threatening texts I can only assume are from my ex.”

His eyebrows shoot to his hairline, and he doesn’t hesitate to unlock the phone and read through the many messages on the screen, his expression growing darker the further he scrolls.

Unknown

I warned you I’d bring you back one way or another, little bunny. Dear old Dad was just heartbroken when I told him you suffered a bout of hysterics and took off. He’d do anything to find out where his precious little girl is.

Come home and take your place by my side, or your little baseball friend will find out just how long my reach really is. This behavior is unacceptable for a Pennington.

After all, it would be a shame if everyone had to find out just how mentally unstable you are.

You have two weeks. Close your legs and get your ungrateful ass back home where you belong.

Aidan chokes suddenly, looking to me with wide eyes.

I roughly drag my hands over my eyes, knowing exactly what he’s about to say. I’m likely smearing my ruined mascara even further down my face, but I can’t bring myself to care. The man has seen me mid-panic attack. What’s a little raccoon eyes?

“Lyla Taylor Kingsley? You mean to tell me your daddy is Colin Kingsley?”

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