Page 63 of Crazy In Love
“Mmhm. Especially cookies with oats in them. They’re good for her milk production.”
“Oh, well…” Blushing, he ducks his head back into the bathroom and takes out his phone. To write notes, maybe. Or to snap a couple of pictures. “I wanna help her, Ms. Tatum, but I’m not sure that’s an appropriate gift from another man. Tommy’s my friend, and I don’t relish the idea of him smashing my skull into the ground when he finds out I’m influencing her boobs… positive or not.”
Coward.“Fine. You could get diapers. Buy them a box of the next size up, so when the baby grows overnight, and they’re not prepared for that spurt, they’ll be all set.”
“Sounds perfect.” He takes a picture. Then another. A third. Then, pulling back, his eyes swing to mine. “And just to confirm, what size is she now? And what size is the next size up?”
ROUND SIXTEEN
CHRIS
“It’s dangerous to spar when you haven’t slept in nearly three days.” And still, I swing out with a powerful right hook and slam Ollie’s jaw around. The fact his neck cracks means his chiropractor will have their work cut out for them over the next little while. “Rested-Ollie wouldn’t have let that through.”
He circles, his hands set at chest height instead of up where they belong, and a long dribble of blood trickles onto his jaw. “The good news is I can’t feel the pain.” He steps in withwhat I thinkis a fast one-two jab.
Too bad he misses me… by about three feet.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Almost gotcha.”
“I’m calling it.” Laughing, Eliza Darling, Ollie’s baby sister, an entire decade younger than he is, drapes her fourteen-percent body fat across the ropes and grabs his shirt before he can come for me again. “Dude, sit down before you fall.”
“I’m fine!” He spins and stumbles, a goofy grin spread over his lips and blood coating his mouth guard. “He was gonna tap soon, Lize.”
“You’re delirious.” She tugs him backward and sighs when he trips, falling to his ass and rolling to his back. She shakes her head, firming plump bow lips. “You’re a mess. You know better than to go this long without sleep, so why the hell are you messing up now?”
“‘Cos Alana was having her baby.” He spits his mouth guard out, which mostly kind of fliesup, thendownagain, smacking his chin andlanding on the canvas by his ear. “I wasn’t leaving her alone when she needed me.”
“This is getting dangerous.” Frustrated, I stalk forward and stand over him. “She’s safe, dipshit. She’s fine. And you’re killing yourself over something you had no control over.”
“She sacrificed herself and accepted all that hate because ofmystupid ass actions.”
“Because of the high school thing?” Growling, Eliza climbs over the ropes and stands on Ollie’s other side. “You were a kid! Kids do dumb shit.”
“Yeah, and my dumb shit led directly to Alana’s rape.” He sets his feet on the floor, bending at the knees. “My dumb shit changed everyone’s lives. That’s not regular dumb shit. That’s excessive dumb shit, and no one even wants to punish me for it.”
“So what do you want?” Eliza snarls. “You want Alana to hate you? You want Tommy to beat the crap out of you?”
He shrugs, extending his legs again and letting them flop to the canvas.
“If you accept this level of blame, all because you asked Tommy to come down to the station one time while Alana was asleep in his bed, then I suppose Tommy should probably feel just as guilty, huh?” I set my hands on my hips and wait for his eyes to roll across to mine. “Since he was the one who left her.”
“No, I?—”
“Or maybeIshould feel guilty?”I do. Fuck, I do!“Because I was in the house. I stayed in my bed while Tommy came out to get you. So it’s worse, isn’t it? That I was there, and I did nothing.”
“You were asleep,” he slurs. “Not your fault.”
“You got arrested for something entirely unrelated! Not your fault.”
“Ya know,” Eliza sets her elbows on her knees, bending to get closer to her brother. “Most doctors struggling with guilt and a troubled mind usually turn to drugs and alcohol. Claim a gym injury, prescribe a little oxy, and ride the wave into that happy little place where nothing hurts and memories blur.”
“Dude,” I scowl. “Don’t give him ideas.”
“But not you. You’d rather work yourself to the bone, then train with whatever energy you have left. And you don’t just work out—like, running on the machines or hitting a bag. You step into the ring with another fighter, so they can punish you, and you claim it’s sport.”
“You feel you owe her something? Fine. We all carry a little guilt from back then, and now that we know the truth, we have to deal with the fallout of our actions. But you just delivered her baby, Ollie. You held herand Tommy through some pretty scary shit, and you kept Alana and Hazel alive. So maybe you can stop with the bullshit now and consider your debt repaid.”
“Maybe she’ll have another baby,” he murmurs, half-asleep now that he’s horizontal. “Maybe she can have another nine. One for every year she was gone. Then I can feel better.”
