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“Can you tell that not one pill has been missed?” I growl, envisioning clubbing him over the head with a baseball bat… over and over and over… and over.
“I’ll still need you to get tested for diseases and of course a pregnancy test,” he says frowning at the birth control container.
And of course a pregnancy test.
I really do hate him. Could you really be charged for murder if it involved extenuating circumstances?
Like the fact the victim was an asshole who deserved it?
“I had some tests done. I’ll make sure to show you the results later,” I sigh because Jack picks that moment to wake up from his nap.
“Mommy?” he mumbles through the monitor.
“If you don’t mind, show yourself out. I’m going to my son.”
“I assume the pool is useable now?”
“It is,” I snap.
“Good. At least something works in this place,” he mumbles, dismissing me and turning away to leave the way he came. Which is fine. More than fine. I want him gone. I usually get along with everyone. I’m pretty easy going. There’s only one person I’ve written off completely and that’s Jack’s father, but this guy…. Aden makes Jack’s dad look like a freaking walk in the park on a sunny day.
“Thank God he will be leaving in one more day,” I mutter under my breath, as I make my way to Jack.
Life will be much, much better once Aden Smith is out of it completely.
fourteen
aden
I glance at Hope as I leave. I’m feeling guilty. It never even entered my mind she would think I was calling her son a bastard. I wasn’t. Hell… I came over with the intent to talk calm and friendly with her. To clear the air and move forward…Admittedly it was kind of a weak hope, but there was that smell of vanilla in my room that had slowly been driving me crazy. There was this crazy urge inside of me to see her again, to try and talk to her.
I should have realized I couldn’t. Maybe it’s because of the shit I’ve been through with women and the film industry for the last few months…well… years really. Whatever the reason Hope seems to bring out the worst in me and from the way she throws her mouth at me…I bring it out in her, too.
Which means it’s good I’m leaving. It also means there’s no way there will be a repeat performance of the other night, which is regretful, but again it’s for the best. With my mind made up and feeling much calmer I make my way back to my room. I’ve already packed, with the exception of the things I will need after I shower in the morning. I’m not sure why that makes me feel sad? But I kind of am. I think it’s because this is the first time in months the paparazzi hasn’t found me. Despite Hope driving me crazy, and making me want to choke her (and fuck her again), that part has been nice.
I dig around my suitcase for my swim trunks and change quickly. I need to decide where I’m headed next. I like the rural setting. Even when I went to the bar the other night, there was no one there that really recognized me. The waitress said I looked familiar and I almost had a heart attack, but she shrugged it off—thankfully. I’m not sure you can get more rural than Clancy, Idaho but I’d really like to try. I know White is from Mason, Texas. He always said it was a slow, sleepy ranch town. Maybe I should go visit there. I grab a towel and head toward the pool, my mind still on where I’m going next and what I’m going to do.
I put the towel across the lounger and dive in. If I’ve missed one thing about my home in California it has been the pool. Still, even with the gates and security, I haven’t been able to enjoy it in forever. Going out to the pool hasn’t been an option. Last time I was there the press took so many pictures I had to come back in. Swimming has always been a way I could work off stress, clear my mind and breathe. It was the one exercise that saved me after football was over. This pool, though colder than I’m used to, feels like heaven. The one I have at home is much larger, but I do lap after lap, senselessly going through the motions. It’s as if I have my body on repeat and all I can do is concentrate on the motions and my breathing.
That is until…
“Daddy!” Hope’s son screams and he’s running towards the pool.
What the ever-loving-fuck?
“Daddy!” he squeals again.
Is she teaching her child to call me daddy? Has she no fucking brains at all?
