Fire Inside: A Chaos Novel (33 page)

“I don’t think Tyra knows that,” I said carefully.

“I don’t give a fuck she does or doesn’t,” he returned.

I fell silent.

Hop carried on.

“Not long after that, Mitzi talked me back. I thought she wanted to give it another shot. What she wanted was someone to help her with dirty diapers and a mortgage payment. She pulled the wool and I wanted a family so bad, to wake up knowin’ my kids were under my roof, I let her. Then, one day, I come home and some woman is sittin’ on our porch. Never seen this bitch before. I get off my bike, walk up to her, she looks me straight in the eyes and lays it out. Everything. Everything I worked hard to get and Mitzi never gave to me. Everything I learned from a goddamned stranger.”

When he stopped speaking and didn’t seem like he was going to go on, I prompted, “What did you learn, honey?”

“I learned why Mitzi was such a cunt. A spoiled rotten, worthless piece of shit who I wasted fuckin’
years
with. The piece of shit who was the mother of my children. Or, I found out that day, my daughter. Not my goddamned son.”

I was trying not to hyperventilate and had to concentrate so much on this, I only had it in me to nod.

“She was a cheerleader,” Hop announced and I blinked.

“What?” I forced out.

“This bitch. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Perfectly honed body. Goddamned ponytail in her hair. She was the kind of cheerleader who was gonna hold onto that shit, the glory days, until she fuckin’ died. Or she thought she would until Mitzi blew her life apart.”

I didn’t get it.

Hop didn’t make me ask for an explanation.

“See, back in the day, Mitzi had a thing for the quarterback of her high school football team. She wanted him. Problem was, he was dating the head cheerleader. But Mitzi, Mitzi wanted what she wanted, so she gave it her all to get it. In high school terms, that means she put out. This fuckin’ guy took what she gave, kept her on the side and went to homecoming and prom with his good girl. This was the beginning and until that day on the porch, it didn’t have an end. Mitzi fixated on this guy. He was all she wanted and, way that bitch told it, she went all out to get him. The shit she said, she was not fuckin’ jokin’.”

I kept deep breathing.

Hop kept telling his tale of treachery.

“He went to college, his girl went to the same college, but he still kept Mitzi on the side. And she stayed there, givin’ him what his cheerleader couldn’t or wouldn’t. They graduated, got married, he got a job, kept Mitzi and his wife until his work transferred him to another state. That’s when Mitzi realized it might not ever be her so she had to have a plan B. He took his wife, said good-bye and didn’t look back.”

Hop paused, I nodded again and Hop kept going.

“That’s when I came into the picture. That’s why she never let me in. Pinin’ for that guy. Still in touch with him. Holdin’ a torch, holdin’ onto hope. She led me into a life together knowin’, she got a shot, she’d cut me loose and go for him. He got transferred back to Denver after we had Molly and they started up again. Good news for her, she thought, when she found out his wife couldn’t have kids. She and me, things not good, I wasn’t hankerin’ to make another baby with her until I was sure we were solid and it didn’t look like that would happen, so I was surprised as fuck she turned up pregnant since she was on the pill. But shit happens. I got my son. I rejoiced even if Mitzi was a bitch. My son’s my son, so who wouldn’t rejoice?”

“No one,” I whispered.

“Damn straight,” he bit off. “But, see, this bitch on my porch, she tells me that Mitzi went to her husband and threatened to tell her their history and the fact that Mitzi had his kid if he didn’t break it off with her. To cut her off at the pass, this guy told his wife the whole fuckin’ thing. Feelin’ like spreadin’ that joy, the bitch comes and shares it with me. Shit blows sky high, as it fuckin’ would, tests are performed, Cody isn’t mine.”

My heart clutched so hard, the pain excruciating, all I could force out was, “Hop.”

“But he fuckin’
is,
” Hop snarled. “That motherfucker didn’t hold Mitzi’s goddamned hand in the delivery room. That motherfucker wasn’t the first human being to wrap his arms around my boy. That motherfucker didn’t give him his first bottle, change his first diaper, sit with him in a rocker until he fell asleep. I told all of those assholes, they’d see a courtroom before they took my kid. The guy talked his wife around, got another transfer, happily told me he was good with me raisin’ his son and they took off. Mitzi saw that she threw her hail Mary and the guy let it drop. He was done with her, and in her twisted, fucked up head, she blamed me and laid a pile of shit on me so heavy, it’s been years and it’s a wonder I can breathe after that stench. Then she woke up and saw me with her kids, saw what she had and threw away, tried to sort shit with me. I told her I was so far from interested in that, it wasn’t goddamned funny, and further, she pulled any-fuckin’-thing with me or my kids, she wouldn’t like my response. And here we are.”

There they were and, truthfully, I was surprised Hop had it in him to give that woman the courtesy of ignoring her and finding a chair far away from hers at their daughter’s dance recital. I didn’t know what he would do besides, not with his kids involved. What I knew was that was a further insight into the character of Hopper Kincaid that he’d breathe her air at all.

For his kids.

For both his kids, even when one of them was his by claim, not blood.

“Does Tyra know any of this?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t give a fuck. For Cody, I didn’t spread that shit around. As far as anyone’s concerned, he’s mine every way he can be. If someone looked at him and guessed, they kept it to themselves. That isn’t what’s important right now, Lanie. What’s important is, I don’t know what shit Tyra spouted or how it came out, you took that shit in, came to me and didn’t let me say a goddamned word before you tore us apart and tore outta there.”

Unfortunately this was true.

“I actually didn’t have a chance to share anything with Tyra and, in her defense, Tyra didn’t want to share but when I walked into the office, she and Elvira were gossiping, you know how Elvira is, and it came out. She doesn’t know about us. She didn’t share it vindictively, Hop. It just…” I paused and finished lamely, “came out.”

“That’s good, babe, that ticks one thing off your list. You don’t have to share ’cause now, this shit, there is no us she needs to know about.”

I felt my eyes get wide and my stomach plummet.

“Hop, I—”

“Save it,” he clipped. “I don’t wanna hear it. You said what you had to say, you made your fuckin’ judgment which, Lanie, you seem to do a lot of judging even gettin’ pissed that I’d think you would. You’re the master of the backtrack. I spend a lot of time listenin’ to you do it, even gettin’ maneuvered into fuckin’
apologizin’
to you about it and I do not need that shit in my life.”

“That isn’t fair,” I whispered.

“No, what isn’t fair is you bein’ with me, you knowin’
exactly
the man I am, and you walkin’ into my room and layin’ that shit on me. You fuckin’ know, woman, fuck me, you
goddamned know
I am not that man. And you got such a loose hold on your drama, you laid that shit on me. Well, I’m done with your goddamned drama, Lanie. All day, worried goddamned sick about you, goin’ into battle with that monster, goin’ to have words with Cherry, then you lay that on me? You jump to conclusions, tell me to my face you never want me to touch you again?” He shook his head. “No. You don’t want my hands on you, woman? You got it.”

I stood frozen in fear as he turned to the door and he had it opened before he turned back.

“You breathe one word about Cody to anyone, so help me God, you’ll deal with me. That’s mine to share. Nothin’ about me is yours. Not anymore.”

And on that, as every word he said drove home, slicing through me, he moved through the door, slid it closed and prowled away without even a glance back.

I stood, immobile, trying with difficulty to manage the pain and staring at the door thinking how hard that had to have been for Hop to share. How difficult it must be for him to wake up every day and know his woman cheated on him, gave the son he wanted to another man. How he didn’t care and went to the mat to keep a son who wasn’t his but who was. How lucky it was that even though Cody Kincaid’s biological father was a total dick, God saw fit to insert Hopper into his life. How I really,
really
needed to learn how to get a handle on my drama and not blow things out of proportion.

How I now knew the definition of a cunt.

How I’d just hurt my man, forced him to share something in anger when he wasn’t ready.

And last and most importantly, how the hell I was going to get him back.

The next day…

“Hop, please call me. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I promise I’ll get a hold on the drama. I promise, Hopper.
Swear.
” I took a deep breath. “We need to talk this out, honey. Please call me,” I begged into my phone.

I’d given it the night but this was my third voicemail that day.

I put my phone on my desk, ignored the cautious vibe coming from the staff in my office that I knew was caused by me, and tried to get to work.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about Hop. What I’d done, what he’d said, how to make it better. Needless to say, I didn’t get anything done.

Hours later, I called him and left another voicemail.

Hours after that, before going to bed, I called him again but since he didn’t answer, I hung up.

Tomorrow.

I’d try again tomorrow.

I settled into bed.

I didn’t sleep.

* * *

Three days later…

I know you’re angry, honey, but please, PLEASE, call me. I need to apologize face to face.

That was text two of the day. It was nine o’clock in the morning.

There would be five more before I laid my head down on my pillow in order not to get a wink of sleep.

* * *

Two days later…

I sat sipping a beer in the Compound. Brick was with me, shooting the shit.

I knew he knew or suspected. All the brothers did. I knew they knew I was hanging there hoping to see Hop.

This was kind of embarrassing.

I did not care.

Hop had his kids so it was a long shot in the evening he’d show but I was willing to take it. I was willing to do anything.

“Gotta hit the head,” Brick muttered. I gave him a smile I knew he knew I didn’t commit to by the sweet smile he gave back and the squeeze he gave my knee before he took off toward the bathroom.

I felt a hand warm and strong at the back of my neck and I twisted to see Big Petey standing close.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.

Yes. They all knew.

I stared at Big Petey thinking I had nothing left to lose.

Nothing.

“Do you know where Hop is?” I asked and his face got soft.

“No, Lanie darlin’. Sorry to say, I don’t,” he answered.

“Have you seen him?” I asked.

“Seen him around. Haven’t had words with him in a while.”

“Is he okay?” I went on, needing something, anything, even just the knowledge Hop was in a bad mood would feed the need.

“Don’t know, honey.”

I pressed my lips together before I went for broke.

“If you see him, can you ask him to call me? It’s important. Like
really
important,” I stressed.

His hand still at my neck gave me a reassuring squeeze that didn’t reassure me. “Will do.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, then said, “Can you tell Brick I have to go? I forgot, there’s something I need to pick up at the drugstore.”

“No problem.”

I smiled another smile I didn’t commit to. Big Petey let my neck go and I skedaddled.

Hours later, lying in bed, I called Hop.

“You’re worrying me, honey,” I said into my phone, my voice sounding strange, hoarse.

Scared.

“Call me,” I finished then I hung up.

Again, I didn’t sleep.

The next day, Hopper didn’t call.

* * *

Four days later…

I’d been sitting in my car at the curb outside Hop’s house for a very long time before he pulled up on his bike. It was Monday, after his kids were gone.

It was also time to know.

He didn’t return a single message I left and I left many. He didn’t return a single text and I sent loads of those too. And he didn’t show at the Compound in the evenings. I knew he didn’t because I went there every night and had a drink just in case I’d run into him.

So when Hop showed at the Compound the day before, walking in, spotting me, turning right on the spot and leaving, even though I made a fool of myself running after him, calling his name, he didn’t look at me when he threw a leg over his bike, made it roar and rode away.

After that, I needed to know.

And as I watched the single headlight approach, watched Hop ride into his front drive, watched him switch off his bike, walk to his front door and then walk through it, all without glancing my way, I knew.

He was done with me, no going back.

So he needed to know.

I took a deep breath, threw open my door, walked up to his house and hit the doorbell.

No answer.

I hit the bell again then knocked.

He made me wait.

I fought back tears.

He finally opened the door and, with a bottle of beer in his hand, cut me off before I could start.

“This isn’t going to happen.”

“I was eleven, I was in the city with my class on a fieldtrip, we were there to see a Broadway show when I saw him,” I began.

His eyebrows drew together but his lips said, “Lanie, whatever you gotta—”

“My dad in a restaurant, kissing the neck of a woman who was not my mother.”

His mouth snapped shut.

I held his eyes and gave it to him as I’d practiced during the two hours I sat in front of his house.

“He saw me, right through the window. I just stood there, staring at him. I didn’t get it. I was too young. But I sure grew up fast, standing on that sidewalk staring at my father with another woman.”