Page 69 of Close to Falling

I jump awake, feeling my heart pound against my chest cavity. I feel wetness between my legs and push my hair out of my face as I throw the covers off me. Looking down, I gasp before I look over at River.

“You’re bleeding, baby,” he says, jumping up and throwing on a T-shirt. He’s moving fast, and I can’t wrap my head around any of this. “Come on.” He walks to my side of the bed, helping me up before he grabs my coat and pants. “Put these on,” he says as he heads over to grab his Nikes. “Maddie, put your clothes on.” I stand to put them on, seeing the blood on the inside of my thighs. My heart falls, and I have the worst feeling because I know. I know our baby is gone, but I say nothing as River lifts me and walks us out of the loft.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

RIVER DAWSON

“Things like this happen sometimes,” the doctor tells us. “Try again in a few months.”

We do try again in a few months. We try and try, and nothing happens. They run tests and tell us B has poor egg quality and that our chances are not good. She’s devastated, and I am because she is. Sweet love gets it in her head. She wants to give me a baby, and she can’t. It just isn’t working out for us. It isn’t in the cards. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about her turning back to drugs. She’s in pain, and pain for a drug addict isn’t good.

“You should just get out now,” she tells me.

“Stop talking stupid.”

“I’m serious. I’m giving you an out. I can’t have kids, and I know you want one of your own. I can’t give you that, so this is your chance.”

“Don’t do this,” I say, looking at her coldly. “Don’t you fucking push me away, B.”

“I’m just telling you the situation, River.”

“I know the situation. I’ve lived it right beside you,” I say, placing my hands onto the countertop. She’s on the other side, elbows propped up and hands through her hair.

“Well, if you were smart, you would take my offer,” she tells me. “Do you really want a life with no kid of your own? That’s not fair. That’s not what I want for you.”

“It’s not your choice, and sometimes life isn’t fair.”

“You will resent me,” she says. “I can’t handle that.”

“I don’t want a kid if it’s not with you.”

“You only mean that now, River. You will change your mind.”

“I’m done talking about this stupid shit. Don’t bring it up again,” I say, walking out of the kitchen. I grab my keys before I walk out, sliding the door shut with such force it bounces back and doesn’t close all the way. I stand by the wall and listen as B cries, not knowing what to do and praying with everything in me she doesn’t turn back to drugs.

Please, please, don’t do it, B.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I walk around our loft, empty and craving. I’ve lost my child. My baby. I run a hand through my hair and rub down my face as I stop and look out my windows. My mind feels like a blank canvas. My conscience is the pencil, and it starts to draw lines of guilt and regret. I can’t give him a child. There isn’t a high chance they said. I need something so bad right now. I rack my brain to think of a way, but then my heart comes into play, and I think about trying for more babies and maybe there could be a chance. Who really knows what could happen? I don’t want my baby growing in a body that is dependent on drugs. I refuse to let that happen. I will not let that happen.

I take in a deep breath and turn away from the window. I need sugar or something to take the edge off. I need something to get my mind off this shit. I walk to the kitchen and grab a handful of sour candy out of my jar and put them into my mouth, sucking on them and making a face. This isn’t it. This isn’t what I want, but I will fight through this. I won’t go back this time. I can’t.

***

I don’t know what to do. I’ve turned my house upside down, trying to think of a place I may have left some pills hidden. Some hiding spots I just didn’t think of before. My hand is on my phone and a number I remember is in place, ready to call. I look down at it, biting my nails.Do I want to do this?I think about the dope sickness and the pain on River’s face. I shake my head and let out a small, pathetic laugh. “Things get hard and you go back. What, oh what, is wrong with you, Maddie B? Why can’t you get right?” I say to myself, tossing the phone with disgust and falling back onto the couch. Running both hands through my scalp, I think of the baby I lost and start to cry. I put my hands over my face and let the tears run out of me. Why does life have to give me so much shit? “You make this hard,” I say as I cast my eyes to the ceiling. “You make me want what I don’t need!” I yell as I cry more.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

River Dawson

I park my truck at a local bar downtown and make my way inside. Sitting down at the bar, I order a beer and take a sip when it’s slid in front of me. The ballgame is on and my eyes watch, but my mind is on other things. How can I convince this woman that I only want her? Yeah, I want a kid, but if she isn’t the one helping me raise it, then I don’t give a shit.

Some noise at the front door causes me to look behind me, and I see a few boys I know from way back walk in. The Brothers have always been around, and I have a feeling they aren’t walking in here by coincidence. They sit down at the bar beside me, and I pretend to be interested in the TV until one of them speaks.

“Dawson.” I turn to look at the man sitting beside me. Long beard and tattoos on the back of his neck. I don’t reply, but raise a brow in question and look down at the rest of them. “We hear your boy owes a good bit of money,” the bearded man says. I still don’t speak. “We also hear that if he doesn’t pay this money, they are going to take his life. That’s putting you in danger,” he adds.

“Don’t worry about me,” I reply, picking up my beer.

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