Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
His voice grows husky, my tattoo pulsing. His tone is almost more emotional than I can believe coming from him. He’s never sounded like this before. Not even the other times we’ve shared together. This is a fresh layer of raw love.
“And we go on with our lives. We let the world judge us. They say I’m a creep and that Mary’s a gold digger. I don’t care. If I knew the three of us were on good terms, I’d let the rest of the world burn. Family, Brad…” Rust gets choked up. “We’d be family.”
Brad sits forward, head tilted in shock at Rust’s words. Rust is clenching his fist, fighting off a wave of agony. He seems partially in shock from the news about his dad.
“Rust? Should I tell him?” I ask Rust in a whisper.
Rust tries to laugh and make it sound savage, like he doesn’t care, but he’s over it already. “I don’t think it’s relevant.”
“Rust!”
“What are we talking about?” Brad demands.
“It’s been one hell of a day,” Rust says with another forced laugh. “On the drive here, I got a call. My dad finally kicked the bucket. Got himself into a fight, tried to pull a weapon, and got it used against him.”
“Jesus, Rust,” Brad whispers. “That’s awful.”
“You know he deserved it.”
“I know you had it bad,” Brad says, “but I never knew what he did.”
“Pimped out my mom. He abused her when I could hear. He hit me before I got big enough to defend myself.”
I can’t help it. Reaching out, I grab onto Rust’s wrist, squeezing so he can feel the support blazing through me, the never-ending love. “I’m so sorry, Rust,” I whisper.
He just shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m not interested in that family. I’m interested in the family we’ve got here.” He lets my hand go, clearly not wanting to show affection in front of Brad.
We sit in silence for what feels like hours but could be minutes. I can feel Brad thinking, the synapses in his brain firing. It’s like I can feel him imagining all the possible futures, the ones that end in disaster, the ones that end in a warm glow we’ll never let go.
“You’re not just saying all this?” Brad breaks the silence, leaning forward, looking at Rust and then me and then at us, like we’re a couple. “Maybe you had a wild night, lost control, and the baby came along. Maybe you’re saying this because you know it’s the only way I could ever accept it. If this is crap, I deserve to know. There’s been enough lying.”
“It’s the truth,” Rust says in his deep, rumbling voice.
“It is,” I back him up. “I love him. He loves me. We’re going to do right by our baby. We can do it.” I can’t hold the tears back anymore. “Just think how happy they’ll be, Brad, having an uncle like you. An uncle with so much love to give.”
“Do you think you’re going to be together forever?” Brad asks. “In ten, twenty, thirty years?”
“Yes,” I say passionately. “I don’t want anybody else.”
“I’d be alone again for the rest of my life,” Rust snaps, “without Mary. Nobody else interests me. Nobody else lights me up. She’s changed me, Brad.”
“I can see that,” Brad mutters. “I was wondering what was happening. I knew something was going on.”
“It was love. It is love.” Rust leans over toward Brad, almost like he’s going to sink to his knees and beg. “We never would’ve seen this coming, would we, all those years ago? But this is where we are, and it’s not just about us.”
My hand smooths over my belly as his voice gets a serious, protective note.
“It’s about the baby,” Brad says warmly, and then the impossible happens. A smile spreads across his face slowly, like a lazy sunbeam washing away a cloud.
“The baby,” I whisper.
Brad blinks, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “Dammit, you two. This better be the real thing.” He stands.
“It is,” I say, my voice breaking, standing up, too.
Brad pulls me into a hug. A moment later, I feel Rust’s arms wrapped around me. Oh my God. Tears sting my eyes, happy tears: relief and guilt, all mixing together. The three of us hug like we’re all protecting the baby.
“Brad,” Rust says when the hug comes to a natural end. “Can I discuss something with you in private?”
A warm tingle courses through my belly. It’s not like I have to guess what he’s going to ask—for his blessing. It makes sense to ask Brad, not Dad, because Brad was always there, and somehow, he’ll still be there. My baby will have their uncle!
“Sure,” Brad says, still smiling.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
RUST
I walk to the cage, bouncing lightly on my feet, tuning out the roar of the crowd and my walkout music. I know Brad and Mary will be near the front, cage-side. The days since that conversation—since my old man’s passing—have been a blur, a dream. There’s still some resentment in Brad, some feeling of betrayal. I will do everything I can to prove myself as his best friend, but mostly, he seems excited about the baby.