Page 49 of Wreckage of Us
I then check the front of the house. Clear. The side, clear. I go through all the other cameras installed in various trees around the property. Clear.
Then, as if in slow motion, my eyes catch movement by that fuckin’ huge bush in the back yard by the creek. I zoom in but can’t tell if there’s an actual person there or just a random animal hiding.
When the line starts moving, I hurry up and shoot a message to Puck to monitor that area, and to find me a place that can remove the bush. Or at least trim that fucker down.
I don’t even remember ordering and paying for Becca’s drink, my mind so busy trying to figure out what sort of connections my father could’ve had before going under that could help him this much now. Connections that I would not know about. Theoretically, I should’ve known them all. But I obviously missed some.
The drive back to Becca’s house feels short, mostly because I am so preoccupied. Imagine my surprise when I pull into the driveway and notice a fancy sports car right in my fucking spot. I claimed that spot when I moved in. And now I find Dr. Douche’s toy car in it.
I pop the door open, grab the drink with an attitude and prepare to storm the house and throw him out.
A baby crying stops me in my tracks. I look behind me and see Hot Chick from next door struggling to walk out of her house with a baby in her arms, plus a bunch of other shit. When she drops one of the bags, she lets out a soft curse.
I turn around, ready to mind my own business, when the kid lets out a louder wail. That’s followed by a louder cuss. I sigh and put my head back, staring at the sky for a few seconds and wondering why the universe is messing in my shit all the time.
I slam Becca’s drink on the hood of the truck, let out a heavy sigh, then finally turn around and walk toward Hot Chick’s house.
“You need help?” I bark at her. My voice startles her, making her drop a second bag to the ground. Why the fuck can’t she make a couple of trips to her car?
“No, I love struggling like this.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. And now I regret coming to check on her. She may be hot, but she is a bitch.
I got zero time or patience for this shit, so I turn back around.
“Enjoy it then,” I throw over my shoulder and keep on going. I grab Becca’s drink off the hood of the truck when I walk by it, then finally take the steps to the front porch to her house.Ourhouse now, because I’ll be damned if I’m leaving.
And I am done waiting for Becca to realize that we are meant to be together, no matter how hard we both fought it at one point or another.
I bust through the front door and head straight for the kitchen. That’s where I hear her talking with the fucker.Laughing. She islaughingwith him. This stops now.
I stop in the doorway and take in the scene in front of me. Becca and Dr. Douche are sitting at the kitchen table. He is showing her something on his phone and she is giggling like a damn teenager in front of her first crush.
I slam the milk shake cup on the counter.
“Get out,” I growl at Dr. Douche.
They both jump startled. She turns surprised eyes my way while he just smirks. Like the douchebag that he is, I decide.
“Dylan,” Becca jumps from her spot at the table. A furious blush takes over her cheeks. It only reminds me that the fucker is still here, and I’m gonna beat the shit out of him if he doesn’t leave in the next sixty seconds.
I jerk my chin at him. “Get the fuck out,” I repeat.
“Dylan, that’s so rude,” Becca butts in. “Oliver just stopped to tell me about Claire Peters, she’s finally responding to treatment! And to check on me. I miss…” she hesitates for a second, and so help me God, of she is about to tell me that she misses him, I’m going to lose my shit altogether. “I miss being at work,” she finally says, and I try to clear my head.
“A phone call would’ve worked, wouldn’t you say?” I growl again, never taking my eyes offOliver. Fuck, even his name makes me throw up a little in the back of my throat.
The fucker doesn’t move. “I wanted to see with my own eyes that Becca was doing well,” he shrugs. “I was showing her a website with info about the baby.”
Becca’s face lights up at his words, making me want to put a whole through the wall. Right after I ripped his head off his skinny shoulders.
I take two menacing steps forward. I hope he’s got his affairs in order because this is the end of the road for him. I literally see red when I look at him.
“Dylan, you need to calm down,” Becca, as if she can sense my inner turmoil. “We were just looking at what the size of the baby is right now.”
I bring my eyes to her and watch with fascination when she puts a hand over her stomach. The top she has on today is a little more form fitting than I’ve seen her wearing lately. Her tits look fuller. And she has a baby bump now…
Fuck.
She has a baby bump.
