Ballad (Rockstar #5) (29 page)

“S
O, YOU CAN’T
have children?” Meggie asks.

“No, but after all my treatments before the chances were slim already,” I tell her.

She nods. “What does Ben say?”

“He says if we want children we can adopt and I’m cool with that. There are so many kids in foster care that need good,
permanent
homes.”

It’s two weeks later and we’re all at CFD, as Lucy calls it. Ben and I just got back yesterday. Everyone else has been here nearly a week already.

“Xander Matthew McKenzie! Why would you say such a thing to me?” Lucy shouts.

“Uh-oh,” Meggie says.

“Let’s go see.”

We walk into the living area and Xander’s laughing while Lucy punches him in the arm.

“What did he say?” Meggie asks.

“Dude,” Kennedy says with a shake of his head.

“What?” Xan asks, trying to play innocent but we all know the truth. “All I did was mention that if those babies get any bigger and Lucy has to push all three out her vag, Jesse might—”

Jesse smacks Xander in the back of the head. “Dick.”

“That’s what I was—” Xander tries.

Smack. Jesse again.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Lucy tells him, folding her arms over her prego belly.

“It’s all about the Kegel exercises,” Xan says and Jesse smacks him again, harder this time.

“Don’t make me kick your ass,” Jesse threatens.

“Sorry, sorry,” Xander says, holding up his hands. “I was just trying to help.”

“You can take that kind of help and shove it up your ass,” Lucy bites out. She stands up and kicks him in the shin.

“Ow, damn.” He winces.

Lucy points at him. “Not. Nice.”

“That was mean,” I agree.

“See?” she says. She turns to walk away and wobbles.

“Oh fuck,” Jesse swears, trying to catch her but he’s too far away.

Ben runs up and catches her dead faint. “What the fuck?” he asks, his eyes wide and panicked.

“I don’t know,” Jesse tells him, dialing his phone. Xan stops him, a phone already pressed to his ear.

“Dad,” he starts. “Lucy fainted. No, she just turned to walk into the kitchen. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

“What?” Jesse asks.

“We need to take her to the hospital. He said it might be her blood pressure then went on with some medical shit I don’t know,” Xander relays, his eyes crazy with panic.

Ben nods, still holding Lucy.

“Let’s fucking go,” Jesse orders and everyone’s out the door and packed into vehicles.

I hope Lucy’s okay. Carrying triplets this long is a miracle in and of itself.

“We need two more weeks,” Jesse says to no one as he holds his wife on his lap. “Two more weeks.”

I pray to the God that Ben’s taught me to believe in again for them to get the two weeks they need.
Please, God. Two more weeks.

G
UEST
A
UTHOR
C
HAPTERS

Deceitfully Yours

©Tracy Burke

CHAPTER ONE

Julia couldn’t believe her shitty luck. If one more thing happened on this trip she’d have a mental break down. She would scream, kick, and flop out onto the ground like a two year old and just die right there in the middle of nowhere.

It had been one day since she left Boston heading south on the 138. She needed to get back to New York City but had no other way to do that besides walking and hitchhiking to get herself there. So, here she was with her finger in the wind, trying to find a ride for the next few miles.

So far she’d been lucky at finding nice people to catch rides with. But, she knew with the way her luck was that soon she’d be picked up by a psycho serial killer who would end up eating her innards. He’d most likely keep her alive to watch him do the deed.

The horn blaring from an old Mercedes jerked her attention back to what she was doing here: hitching a ride. When the car came to a stop she walked up to the passenger side and leaned over, looking in at the elderly gentleman.

Great, another pervert.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“New York City,” she replied as she swept her red hair over her shoulder. She shielded her eyes and tried to peer into the car, but the dirt kicked up by the cars zooming past made it difficult. There was no way she would get in if she couldn’t see the person in the car clear enough to ensure her safety.

“Hop in. I’m going to Jamestown.” He smiled and then waited for her to decide whether she wanted to take the ride he was offering.

She looked at him again and figured that he must have been in his eighties. What harm could he do? Julia doubted he could do anything even if he wanted to. If he tried to cop a feel she’d just bust him in the gut and run like hell. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She was exhausted, pissed off, and way too fed up with life to put up with that type of shit.

“Sure. Thanks so much.” Julia opened the door when he unlocked it and got in, glancing at the door panel to make sure there was a handle on the inside. She’d seen way too many hitchhiker movies not to check things out. Shifting in her seat she checked behind her, looking for anything that could be a danger to her before putting on her seat belt. Julia clicked it into place and then undid it a few times to make sure it worked. After she felt satisfied she buckled it up and sat back, then looked over at him and nodded. “I’m ready.”

He laughed and turned on his blinker, speeding up to get back onto the highway. “Satisfied I’m not a serial killer or a rapist?”

“Not really but I appreciate the ride.” She laughed with him when he chuckled, then leaned back against the seat and prepared for the two-hour ride. “So why are you heading to Jamestown?”

Julia looked over at him and noticed his clothing. He was a well-dressed man who smelled of a pipe and cherry tobacco. The smell was inviting, and it made her feel warm and secure. The scent took her back to a foster home she’d spent time in when she was five years old. Her foster parents were an elderly couple. The man, whom she called Grandpa, used to hold her and smoke his pipe while he read her stories from the Bible.

She’d spent almost a year with them and they’d done their best to make her feel safe and secure in their home. But then the unthinkable happened. Grandpa had a heart attack and Grandma found it too difficult to care for her on her own. They had been the closest thing to a family she’d ever known.

Now she didn’t have a family. She only had herself and that made her feel more alone than ever before.

Unaware of her inner musings, the old man looked over at her and then back at the road. “I’m going there to see my oldest son. He’s in the hospital, and as far as we know he’s having open heart surgery tomorrow. If nothing changes between now and then that is.”

Good, she thought to herself. He doesn’t have time to kill me on the way. He’d want to be there for his son’s surgery in case something happened to him. Unless… it was all a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hate when people have to go through bad things like that.”

“Thanks. Grant, my son, has had issues with his heart off and on all his life. It’s hit him hard this time. The doctor told him he either has the surgery or he’s got a few months to live.” The old man shrugged as he attempted to downplay the severity of it. The look in his eye told her that everything he said was the truth. “Not a thing wrong with me. I’m eighty five years old and I’m still kicking strong as an ox.” He balled his fist and shook it before he put it back on the wheel. “But him, he’s sixty and has more wrong with him than anyone I know. It’s always something or another.”

She turned and looked out the window. “Sometimes that’s how the cards fall.” Her voice was low and her mood took a sudden downward dive. Of all the people who could have picked her up it had to be Debbie Downer driving the Depression Taxi. At least he didn’t want to eat her intestines. That was a plus.

He looked at her every so often, taking his eyes off of the road to do it. He tried to read her, but failed so he went ahead and asked, “So, what’s in New York City?”

“Home.” She turned and looked at him. “Nothing there, really. Just home. That is if my roommate will let me back in. No family there but it’s the only place I’ve ever known. That city is all I have left in my life.”

He shook his head, “That’s not true, hon. I’m sure if you think hard you can find a lot of things that matter to you. There’s probably a lot of things you could use to rebuild your life. Just because you’ve tripped doesn’t mean you have to stay down.”

She could tell he was trying to make her feel better. She laughed, “Oh, if you only knew.”

“Knew what?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” She dismissed it.

“Try me.”

She took a deep breath and then crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, but don’t make me say I told you so.”

He chuckled softly and waited for her to continue.

“And don’t laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t laugh at you. Believe me, I could go on all night about the crap I’ve gotten myself into. Especially when I was your age.”

“Fine. I moved to Boston for a man.” There it was, out in the open like a wound with the scab ripped off. “Well, not just any man. Okay, let me go back and tell you the entire story. So, I’m living with my friend Sydney. We always joked that I couldn’t find a good man to date in the city.” She turned toward him, bending a knee and wiggling up against the door so she could look at him as she spoke. “Every guy I date has something wrong with him. There was this guy named Carey, complete idiot. He used to hang from this cross in a dirty little bondage club where people would pay money to watch someone beat the crap out of him. It was his job. Imagine, having a job where you get tied to this post and get flogged by women who look like hookers. All for other people’s entertainment.”

They both laughed, but she continued. “And then there was this guy named Brent. I think he was sleeping with his mom.”

He shot her a look of disbelief.

“Seriously! He couldn’t do anything without asking for mommy’s permission. Once, I could have sworn I walked in on them doing something to each other. You know the feeling when you interrupt an intimate moment between two people? It felt like that. Oh, and the one who got nervous and sucked his thumb like a baby. I mean, I was on a loser streak a mile long about two years ago. My friends joke about me having a loser magnet attached to my forehead along with a big fat letter L.” She made the shape of an L on her forehead with her hand.

“Sucked his thumb?” he asked, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“Yep,” she confirmed. “Anyway, I’d be here all night telling you about the weirdos I’ve dated.” She laughed, feeling good for the first time since she left Boston.

“So you were on a losing streak? Go on.” He prompted her.

“Oh right, yeah I was on this loser streak with men. A bad one. So my friend Sydney suggested I meet someone online. It’s the new thing to do I guess. Well I put my profile on a dating website and ended up going out with a few people. They were better matches for me and I could get to know them before I had to go anywhere with them. So, I met this guy from Boston on there. We talked almost every day. After like six months I thought I was so in love with him. We were dating long distance and all that stuff.” She shifted and put her seat back a little to get more comfortable.

“Well, about nine months into this online relationship he asked me to quit my job and move to Boston to be with him. I thought, what the hell, you know? I’d never jumped in with both feet before. How bad could it be, right?” She shook her head and held up a hand. “Well, it was bad. Anyway, I quit my great paying job, left my friends and my safe apartment to fly to Boston with like, five grand to my name. He said he’d have an apartment for us when I got there, but once I arrived he told me that the apartment he rented wasn’t ready yet so we’d have to stay at his friend’s house.”

“Wow,” he responded. “Sorry but… why would you do that?”

“I was stupid. I know this now and I understand so there’s no need to lecture. Believe me, I’ve lectured myself enough over the last few days.”

He shook his head and went silent again.

“Well, there I was and because I thought I was in love with him I ignored any and all warning signs and remained in Boston with him. We stayed with a friend of his. That friend just happened to be a drug dealer. I found out later that they weren’t even friends at all and the guy didn’t care who crashed at his place as long as they were paying him for drugs. So, a few nights in and a fight later I wake up to no Trent. That was his name, Trent. There was no Trent. No money. No clothes. No belongings. Nothing but what I have on now.”

“I wondered why you didn’t have anything with you, but you seemed upset when you got in so I didn’t ask.” He looked over at her, concern in his eyes. “And now you don’t have clothes or money?”

“No, and no cell phone because that was in my purse. I can’t call anyone because I don’t know their numbers and when I tried to get in contact with Sydney there was no answer. Her voicemail message said she was out of town on vacation with friends. A vacation I saved my money to go on, but I decided that Boston was a better choice for me.” She threw her hands up and shook her head, feeling the tears take over this time instead of anger. “Now I’m stuck.”

He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder, offering her a little comfort. “So where are you going after you get back to New York?”

“Syd’s. I know where the spare key is. I’ll stay there until she gets back. Other than that, I don’t know. I’ll try to get my old job back. I just… don’t know. I’m so lost right now.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He patted her shoulder before putting his hand back on the wheel.

“I am, too. And to think, all of this for love.” She laughed sarcastically. “Love, what is that? I feel like a teenager again. I mean, dating as a teen and early twenties wasn’t this bad.” She laid her head back on the seat and looked out the front window, watching the oncoming cars. “Now I’m twenty five and I get robbed and left for dead. I would have preferred it if he had just left. Why did he need my clothes? Seriously, the money I can see. But my makeup and clothes? My hair straightener?”