Rooter (Double H Romance) (26 page)

Rooter snatches my phone from the table and enters my passcode. He scrolls through and for an instant I think he’s going to call Hayden himself.

“What are you doing?” I ask, but he ignores me. Very well. If he wants to make a fool out of himself with Hayden that’s just fine with me.

Rooter retrieves his phone from his back pocket and dials. “Rat, I need you to run a trace for me.” He rattles off Mike’s number.

Once he hangs up with Rat, he tosses my phone at me. I catch it and set it back on the table.

“You gonna call that guy or what?” He grumbles.

“Right now?” I ask.

He eyes me questioningly. “Is there a reason you don’t want to?”

“I think we have bigger issues than some guy sending me a random text.”

“Call him, now,” he growls, “or I will.”

I fling my head back and laugh. I can’t help myself. Rooter jealous over Hayden is priceless.

“You think this is funny?” He seethes through gritted teeth.

“You being jealous?” I snort. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Rooter’s face turns a deep shade of red. He’s severely pissed, and it makes me laugh harder. “Stop laughing, Sophie,” he barks.

Anyone else would quake in their shoes at the sight of him in this moment. He looks as though he might attack at any second, but I know better. He’d never hurt me. My phone, on the other hand, may not be as safe with the way he’s staring it down.

“I can’t! It’s just so ridiculous.” I clutch my stomach in hysterics.

“Ridiculous?” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ll show you ridiculous.” He picks the phone up from the table and urges me to take it.

“You already have.”

“Call. Him. Now,” he fumes.

“He’s nobody, Rooter. He doesn’t warrant a phone call.”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” He punches something into the screen. “Hayden?” He snarls into the phone then pauses while Hayden speaks. “This is the guy who will shred your dick with a fork if you ever text or call Sophie Holt again… Good,” he says and hangs up the phone.

I’m not laughing anymore. “That was so unnecessary.” I yank my phone away. “And how do you know my passcode anyway?”

Rooter shrugs and sits casually on the sofa. How can he be so calm when only seconds ago he was a raging lunatic? “I’ve seen you enter it a thousand times.”

“And you remembered it?”

He shrugs again. “Is it a problem?”

“Of course not,” I cross my arms and tilt my head. “
I
have nothing to hide.”

“Are you insinuating that I do?”

“Suspicious minds are often the result of a guilty conscience, and with your slutty, pregnant exes and all…” I trail off.

Rooter pulls his phone out of his back pocket and tosses it my way. “Code is zero-nine-two-six.”

My eyes go wide. Not because he told me his code, but because my birthday is September twenty-sixth. Maybe it’s coincidence. I hand his phone back to him. “I don’t need your code.”

He leans forward and slips it back into his pocket. “It’s one, not plural. And she isn’t my
ex
.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “Yeah, it’s hard for her to be an ex when she’s still around.”

Rooter groans and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I thought you said you don’t want to fight.”

I sigh and fall back against the sofa. “I don’t. You started it.”

Rooter scoots closer, his thigh brushing the side of mine, and takes my hand into his. “I’m sorry. I lost my shit when I saw that text.”

“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?”

He hesitates for a moment before answering. “No babe, I don’t.” He rests his head on my shoulder. “I’m just crazy right now.”

That makes two of us. I drape a leg over his and squeeze his hand. We need a break so we can get back to being us. Actually, we need a break to figure out who the hell we are as an us. We’ve done nothing but endure turmoil since day one of our relationship. But I have a feeling we won’t be getting a break anytime soon. With that knowledge, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to relax and take in this quiet moment after the storm. And then his phone rings.

It’s Candace.

Chapter 32
Friends & Enemies

If I was a smoker, I’d be chain smoking right now. Instead, I sit on the couch drumming my fingers on the arm rest. My palms are slick from sweat and my eyes dart back and forth between the door and the antique clock on the wall.

Please let this go better than I expect.

It turns out Mike isn’t as dumb as one might believe. He no longer has the same phone number, and no longer has his job. Whether he quit or was fired remains to be seen. The sudden changes has Rooter on edge. He thinks Mike is up to something and wants to make it as hard to be found as possible.

To track him down, Rooter has asked me for a list of Mike’s friends and possible addresses. I’ve prepared the list, but before I hand it over I need to tell Miranda what’s happening. She should be home from work any minute.

I’m not asking for it to go well. There’s no way it will. Just let it be better than her tearing into me and throwing me out on the street. And please let her be in a good mood when she gets home. If she’s had a bad day at work, I’m screwed. Rooter offered to be here when I tell her, but that’d probably make things worse.

Miranda opens the front door right on time. I know I had hoped for her to be in a good mood, but seeing the enormous smile on her face makes me feel guilty because I’m getting ready to erase it.

The extreme heat isn’t helping. It’s an unusually hot day. It’s nearly ninety degrees outside. A rarity for our area anytime of the spring or summer. And if it happens it’s typically not until mid to late August. It’s only June. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.

The instant she sees me her face falls. “Oh no. What happened now?” She sets her purse on the table before sitting next to me. “Is it Candace again?”

I shake my head. “Mike,” I croak.

She leans forward with bowed shoulders. “What did he do?”

“It’s about my car. Rooter assumes it was he who did it.”

She shakes her head with a sad expression. “He’s probably right.”

I look away from her. “He’s looking for him.”

“I figured as much,” she responds casually. I glance up at her. She rubs her forehead with her thumb and index finger. “Do you know what he’s going to do?”

I sit forward and wring my hands together. Rooter’s admission that it would likely involve Mike’s hands give me visions of him smashing his fingers with a hammer. “Not exactly, but I’m sure it won’t be pretty.”

“I love my brother.” She places her hand on my leg. “But if it was him, and I’m sure it was, he deserves to pay for what he’s done.”

Wow. She’s taking this a lot better than I thought she would. I sigh in relief. “I don’t want this coming between us.”

“It won’t, Soph. It’s his own fault. He’s just so damn stupid!”

I pick at a piece of lint on my shirt. “Rooter has asked me for a list of all of his friends and possible addresses.”

“You have to do what you have to do and I accept that, but I won’t participate. I hope you understand.”

She thinks I’m asking her to give me the information. I shake my head. “I didn’t expect you to. I’m just letting you know what’s going on and what my level of involvement is.”

“I appreciate it, Soph.” She rests her elbows on her legs and rubs her face. “Can you do me one favor?”

I have an idea what she’s getting ready to ask. “Yeah?”

“Can you please ask Rooter to go easy on him?”

“I already have,” I assure her, but don’t bother to tell her it isn’t likely.

“Thanks,” she says and pats my leg and stands. “And in other, much more exciting news, Bear is on his way to pick me up.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to Skyles for dinner.”

I’m envious of Miranda. It’s too soon to be sure, but so far it would seem Bear doesn’t have any pregnant skanks chasing after him day and night. Miranda gets to go on dates with him without being interrupted by texts and phone calls. She doesn’t have to try to figure out where she’ll fit in once his newborn child is born. She certainly doesn’t have to put up with coming second to another woman.

Rooter and I got into another tiff after Candace texted him yesterday. Of course she said it was an emergency, and he rushed over to her place. There was no emergency. When she called she said she felt cramps, but the moment he got there they passed. I don’t buy any of it. Rooter on the other hand isn’t sure. I asked him if he was going to run to her every time she faked a crisis. He said as long as she’s pregnant he’s obligated to be there when she says she needs him. At this rate, he’ll be there every day. And I’ll be sitting around, waiting in the wings.

It’s Friday night and Ryan and I are in his living room having an after work drink. It’s been a hell of a night. Ryan’s house is the perfect place for a little rest and relaxation. The lights are dim and soft music plays in the background. Rooter wasn’t thrilled when I told him I was staying the night here because he knows the reason why; I need a break from him, and us, and all of our issues.

Rooter is on edge about Mike. I’m on edge because of Candace and Mike. Between Rooter looking for Mike, running to Candace every time she calls, and our conflicting schedules, we haven’t spent any quality time together. The only time we’re really together is when we’re sleeping.

He hasn’t tried anything since the night of Miranda’s birthday party. We barely even kiss. He can probably sense I’m not into it right now. Perhaps he’s not into it either. There’s too much going on. And it’s difficult for me to feel romantic or sexy with him when he’s been hanging out with Candace all afternoon. He’s literally seen her every single day since he found out she’s pregnant.

I sit cross legged on Ryan’s gray sectional, he’s turned toward me with one leg tucked under him. “She calls every day,” I drone and take a swig of Jack. “Multiple times, whining about being sick.”

“How far along is she?”

“A little over a month.”

“She could have morning sickness by now.”

The only sickness she has is mental.
I take another sip of the whiskey.
“Yeah, but she claims she has morning, noon, and night sickness. And that’s not even the worst of it!” I slap the couch. “The lying cow claims she’s having cravings already. Cravings don’t start until the second month.”

The way she calls freaking out over every little thing got me thinking. I figured a little research would help Rooter decipher a true emergency from her using her condition to get his attention. I must’ve spent four hours online reading everything I could about what to expect during pregnancy.

Ryan raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his bourbon. “How do you know?”

“I looked into it.” Ryan nods without asking for details and I continue. “I tried telling Rooter, so he’d stop running over there every damn time she calls, but he says as long as she’s pregnant he has to go.”

Ryan tilts his head to the side. “He’s not entirely wrong, but it’s not like she’s bedridden.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Exactly my point!” I pour another shot into my glass. “Wednesday night, we were curled up in his bed, halfway through a movie we’d rented on cable when she called begging him to take her some fried chicken.”

Ryan’s eyes go wide. “No fucking way!”

“Way!”

“And he did it?”

“Of course! Baby momma calls and he goes running.”

Ryan sets his glass down and turns to face me directly. “He can’t do that to you. She isn’t bloody helpless.”

“Oh, but it gets better.” I scoot closer. “He asked if I wanted to stay or go. Of course I went. I stayed in the car and when she opened the door, the trollop was in red lingerie with her robe hanging wide open!”

Ryan’s jaw drops. “That bitch didn’t call him over for chicken.”

“Hell no she didn’t!” I toss back the rest of my drink and slam the empty glass on the coffee table. “Rooter told her I was in the car waiting and she grabbed the sack of food and slammed the door in his face.”

Ryan shakes his head in disgust. “She probably throws herself at him every time he goes over there.”

“I know she does and it makes me sick.” I press my lips together in a thin line.

Ryan shifts forward and looks me in the eyes intently. “He has to draw a line. He can’t allow her to dictate every second of his life. At this rate, you’ll never have a relationship. Not a real one anyway.”

He’s right. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Ryan cups my chin. “Put your foot down, babe. Demand that he makes
uninterrupted
time for you.”

That would be nice, but it isn’t completely possible. “Club rules state he can’t turn his phone off.”

“Fine, then he needs to not answer her calls when he’s with you.”

Like that’ll happen.
My shoulders bow as I sit hunched over and pick at a cuticle until it bleeds. I had nice nails before this whole Candace debacle.
“It would be nice to have just one day to ourselves.”

Ryan takes my hand into his. When I look up I see his caring, beautiful green eyes. “Babe, if he can’t make time for you the relationship will never last. Tell him that. It might make him think twice.”

“I don’t want to put more pressure on him.” I turn away. There’s a very real chance I’ll lose him as it is. If I add to his list of demands and stress, I definitely will.

“Hey,” Ryan forces me to look at him, “he did this. Maybe not purposely, but he did it just the same. If he wants to be with you, he needs to do right by you.”

An hour later, I’m lying in the bed next to Ryan who’s already snoring when a light appears in the room. I turn to my left and see my phone is illuminated. I reach over and pick it up to see a text from Rooter.

Rooter:
Can’t sleep without u next to me.

My heart flutters. It’s three in the morning and he’s thinking of me. He may not be able to make time for me, but at least he thinks of me. I stare at the screen and ponder texting him back. Maybe I should let him sweat it out for the night.

Yeah. That’s exactly what I should do.

I pull into my driveway at eleven thirty in the morning to find one of Rooter’s club members straddling his bike. I’ve seen the guy before, but never met him. He’s older, maybe mid-forties. By the time I open my car door, he’s standing before me.

“I’m Sparrow,” he says and extends his hand to help me out of the car. He has kind blue eyes, but his skin is like leather. “Rooter sent me to wait on you.”

I take his hand and step out of the car. “Is everything okay?”

He nods. “Said he couldn’t reach you. He found the guy who messed up your car.”

My breath catches. Rooter has Mike. I yank my phone from my purse. Sure enough it’s dead. “Where is he?”

Sparrow shakes his head. His shoulder length salt and pepper hair swings back and forth. “Can’t say. But he told me to tell you to call him the second you get here.”

Without a word, I dart for my front door to get my phone charger from my room. I swiftly unlock the front door, fling it open and sprint up the stairs as fast as my legs will carry me.

“You gonna call him?” Sparrow hollers up the stairway.

“Yeah,” I call out. “I need to plug my phone in.”

My charger is already plugged into the wall. I have a bad habit of leaving it plugged in when I’m not using it. I plug the phone in and wait what seems like a month for it to come on. When it finally does, I call Rooter. He picks up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” He snaps.

“Home,” I answer, irritated.
Who cares where I am? Where are you?
Before I can ask, he interrupts.

“Why haven’t you returned any of my messages?”

I hear a muffled groan in the background. Something tells me it’s Mike. I start pacing. “Is Mike with you?”

“Yeah,” he answers flippantly. “Why haven’t you called me?”

“My phone died,” I answer impatiently and rake a hand through my hair. “Where are you?”

“Sophie, I need to be able to reach you at all times. Do you understand that?”

Seriously?
I roll my eyes and huff. “I told you my phone died. How is Mike?”

“He’s fine,” he barks. “Tell me you understand that I need to be able to reach you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I answer glibly, waving my hand, urging him to go on as though he can see me through the phone. “Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Anger boils to the surface and my face gets hot. I kick a lone sandal across my floor. “The hell you can’t! I need to know what’s going on!”

“I have it under control. He’ll live. I promise.”

“Rooter, dammit! What did you do?”

“Not much.” His voice is low and menacing. “Yet.”