Page 42 of Riot Reunion
Clunk.
“Shit! Oh my god! Oh my—” The rear driver’s side door of the SUV opens. I nearly jump out of my damn skin. Suddenly, Pax is climbing into the back seat.
Pax.
He’s here, wearing a black Parka, a freshly shaved head, and a look on his face so grim that my blood turns to ice. I spin on Elodie, her betrayal stealing my breath right out of my lungs. “What did you do! I told you I couldn’t see him! Youpromisedme!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry!” The look of devastation on her face is unmistakable. “I know, I shouldn’t have told him where we were, but this…you can’t just ignore this, Pres. You can’t ignore him. You two need to talk this through—”
“Can we have a moment alone, please, Elodie?” Pax is quiet, calm, but his stiff, monotone words cut through the tension inside the car like a scythe. Wide-eyed and guilty as hell, Elodie shoots me an apologetic look, giving my hand another firm squeeze. “Iamsorry, Pres. But this is for the best, I promise. You’ll feel better once the two of you have ironed everything out. I’m gonna go for a walk or something. You’ll be okay?”
“I’m not a fucking monster,” Pax snaps. “What do you think I’m gonna do,eather?”
“I’m not saying you are! I’m just—”
“Stop. The two of you, just stop.” To Elodie, I say: “It’s fine. Just go.”
She is the epitome of a hangdog as she climbs out of the car. “Call me if you need anything.” When she’s gone, I swivel in my seat to face forward, too nervous to even glance at the boy sitting in the back seat. My heart is in tatters. He’s so close. I could reach back there and touch him if I wanted to. I’ve thought about it. Dreamed about it. Missed him, needed him so badly that his absence has been like the blade of a knife carving into my very soul. But if I reached back there…and he pulled away? It would all be over. Gone forever. That’s probably already the case, but I’m not ready to face that fact just yet.
“You’re not my favorite person right now, Firebrand,” Pax whispers.
A bitter taste floods my mouth: sadness and regret. “Oh, I can imagine.”
“Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
I work my jaw, clenching my hands into fists in my lap.
“Chase. Answer me.”
“Because of this. Because of what I know you’re about to say to me.”
“You don’t know what I’m about to say. You don’t knowanything.”
“I’m not fucking ready for a kid, Chase,” I say, mimicking his deep tone. “You did this on purpose, Chase. I want you to get rid of it, Chase. Ihatechildren, Chase. I’d rather die than have to take on a squalling, screaming brat—”
“Stop.”
I do stop. The anger in his voice strikes me dumb. A hot, miserable sob works its way up my throat and bursts out of my mouth; the sound of it rattles around the inside of the SUV.
“You do not get to sayanyof that to me,” Pax hisses.
“What am I supposed to say, then? Am I supposed to beg you to understand this? Am I supposed to convince you that it’s all gonna be fine, and it’s not gonna be hard? Am I supposed to guilt you into staying with me, when I know that’s not what you want?”
“How?Howdo you know that?” He sits still. Even facing forward, studiously refusing to look at him, I can tell that he’s frozen in place, locked up tight, rigid as a statue. Ifeelhis stillness, and it’s like an oppressive weight, crushing me down into my seat.
“Seems to me you’ve had a decent amount of time to process this situation and fabricate some really interesting outcomes for yourself. I only found out about this yesterday, so yeah, I’m still processing over here. But you could have the decency of apprising me of the fact that I’m going to be a father before you decide how I’m actually going to take it.”
“Of course I knew how you were going to take it! I knew you were going to lose your shit. You aren’t the type of guy who—”
“YOU HAVEN’T EVEN GIVEN ME A CHANCE!” he roars, punching the back of the headrest in front of him. “You haven’t even given me a chance. You’ve made all of these decisions about who I am and who I get to be. What the fuck? Why would youdothat?”
“I know you. You’re free, and you don’t want to be tied down by responsibility, and you’re angry, and you hateyourparents, and—and youhateresponsibility—”
“And Iloveyou! Didn’t you factor that into all of these shitty fantasies you created for yourself, where I was an asshole who treated you like crap and walked away from you and my kid? Did it mean nothing to you when I told you that I was in love with you? Seriously?”
“No! Ofcourseit meant something—”
“Can’t have meant fucking much at all if you seriously couldn’t even be bothered to tell me that you were fuckingpregnant—”
