Page 38 of Protector

One wrong step in the dark could send me hurtling off the edge of the rock overhang. If the flow was high enough, I’d be swept away. If it wasn’t, I’d end up waist-deep in silt with a broken leg, just as stuck as I was now.

Celia, what if you get knocked up?

What would happen if I did?

The ache in my chest became unbearable, and I fell to my knees with a cry. I wanted to rip through the tattooed skin covering my chest; to break apart my rib cage and let my heart fall into the water with my tears.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, bawling like a scared kid, before pulling the cell phone from my back pocket. I dialed, knowing exactly what I was going to hear.

“Jamie?” Angel yawned. “Everything okay?”

“No.” I cupped my forehead with my hand and hiccuped through a sob, making no attempt to cover it up. “She was pregnant?”

He sighed and shifted against the phone, probably rolling over in bed. “Yeah, kid. She was.”

The confirmation only pushed me closer to the edge of that overhang, ready to stand up and launch myself into the rushing water below. “I,” I choked. “I ruin lives. Donald was right about that, wasn’t he?”

“You been drinkin’?”

I nodded and sniffed. “A little. Mikey’s a murderer, Angel. Just like me. And Celia—I bet she was so scared. It shouldn’t have been you—seein’ her like that.”

“Jamie,” Angel said slowly. “Where are you right now?”

I swiped the back of my hand across my eyes. “Don’t matter anymore.”

“Are you near water? Listen to me, remember that time I took you and your mama fishin’ off White River? How many did she catch that day? Put us all to shame.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear, letting my finger hover over the red end call button. I knew he meant well, but I didn’t need one more distraction. “Love you, Angel. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I wanted to be like you when I was a kid, but instead, I turned out just like my old man.”

“Jamie—”

“Just—just take care of them for me.” I mashed the button, and the phone went silent again.

I roughly ran a hand over my face before dialing again.

“Lo?” he stated flatly as if the actual greeting required too much effort.

“Mikey?” My voice was thick from all the tears I’d shed, sounding nothing like the man he’d known as a kid.

“Who is this?”

“I—” I mashed my fist against my lips. “I’m so sorry, buddy.”

“Buddy? Jarrett, pumpkin, is that you? Still pissed that my Rangers whooped up on your Astros? A bet’s a bet, asshole. Pay up.”

I smiled in spite of myself before hanging up. He sounded like a typical teenage boy. Maybe, even with all the mistakes I’d made along the way, I’d given him a fighting chance at a normal life.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he was going to try to call me back using reverse caller ID. Unfortunately for him, my phone was untraceable. He’d never been content with loose ends as a kid; everything had to be wrapped up nice and neat.

He was gonna make a damn fine detective someday.

My hands shook as an image of Celia infiltrated my mind, and I dropped onto my ass with a heavy sigh. She was laying on my bed at the clubhouse, looking up at me from under those thick lashes; hair nothing more than a wild mane of curls. My daughter was in her belly, and everything was right in the world.

It was the memory I’d held onto with everything I had left. It would be the one I took with me when the Reaper showed up; that, and the sound of her voice as she said my name.

One more call.

One last time.

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