Page 17 of Cougar

I fell in love for the second time in my life that day. Lucas was the sweetest baby with blond hair and the biggest blue eyes. In that moment, I decided I wanted to give Marcus a son. A little boy who looked just like his daddy.

I’ll never understand how Molly could just walk away from her son like that. A sweet boy who grew up to be so amazing and talented. He may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but he has a lot of love to give.

Marcus and Drew had taken Molly’s actions personally, considering they both had been unwanted children who grew up in the foster care system.

I didn’t tell either of them what Molly said, just that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. Honestly, her actions made no sense. If she’d had one working brain cell in her head, she could’ve taken Drew for child support. Obviously getting knocked up by a rock star wasn’t her end game.

Fucking my husband was.

After a major freak-out and reassurance from Marcus, me, and the rest of the band that we’d be there to help every step of the way, Drew embraced fatherhood. And he did a wonderful job raising his son. Lucas knows everything about his mother and that she abandoned him. He’s made it clear that he has no interest in having her in his life whatsoever, because he already has a mother.

Me.

I’ve always loved Lucas as if he were my own son. However, I give him his space because it’s just the way he is. But he knows I’ll always be here for him, whether it’s as a mother figure or just Emerson.

Grace returns to the kitchen and smacks a kiss on Lucas’s cheek before she begins putting together a plate of fruit for Jay.

“What’s Jay doing?” Lucas asks.

“Last I checked, she was sleeping,” I tell him. “Seems that’s all any of us are doing right now.”

Grace hums in agreement as she finishes cutting up a handful of strawberries and setting them on the plate.

“I was hoping to get her out of the house,” Lucas says to me. “She’s been locked in her bedroom for what, a week now?”

I couldn’t agree more. I think we all need to get out of the house, but the paparazzi are still camped outside the gates of our driveway, eager for a picture of Marcus’s Jaybird. There aren’t many photos of Jay floating around; Marcus and I did a pretty good job of keeping her out of the camera’s eye.

Maybe a walk on the beach might be nice.

Lucas, Grace, and I head upstairs to Jay’s room. He opens the door and we’re met with darkness because Jay has her blackout blinds drawn.

Lucas and Grace make their way to Jay’s bedside. Bass appears out of nowhere and follows me into her room as I move to open the blinds.

“Jay,” Lucas says quietly as he perches on the edge of her bed.

She gives him a muffled “Hmm.”

“Come on, little sis, you need to wake up and move around. You’ve been in this bed for a week. Get up. Grace brought you something to eat.”

Grace sets the plate on the nightstand and waits with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Not hungry,” Jay mumbles into her pillow. “Too tired.”

“Come on, Jay.” He grabs the corner of her comforter and tosses it back.

I gasp at the sight of my child curled up in the fetal position. The ridges of her spine are visible through her tank top. Jay has always been thin, but this is a clear sign something is really wrong. Something I’ve missed.

Lucas stands from the bed, shocked as he stumbles out of the way. Pushing past him, I drop down on the edge of the bed and carefully roll her over to her back. Dark circles line the underside of her eyes, and her cheeks are sunken in.

“Oh, baby girl, what have you done to yourself?” I burst into tears as I cup her pale face. “Oh my God. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Em,” Bass whispers.

“It is!” I shoot him a teary glare. “She’s my daughter. I should’ve been paying attention. Oh, baby.” I brush the hair away from her face and kiss her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” Standing from the bed, I grab Jay’s cell phone from the nightstand, type in her password, search for Dr. Ramos’s personal cell and hit Call. “I’m calling Dr. Ramos.”

Bass sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Jay into his lap. “Princess?” He brushes her hair from her face. “I need you to open your eyes and look at me.”

“No, B, it hurts,” she whimpers softly.

---