Totally deserved shit.
“You’re up early.”
I startled a little before glancing over my shoulder to find Raine in her bathrobe, watching me. I smiled half a smile and motioned toward the cooking bacon.
“I figured I at least owed you breakfast.”
She raised her eyebrows and sat down at the kitchen table as I poured her coffee and brought the flavored creamer she liked out of the fridge. She blew across the top of the cup before taking a sip.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
I just shrugged.
“That bad, huh?”
“Been worse.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew they were wrong.
Note to self—say as little as possible today.
Instead of talking, I spoke with actions. I served up eggs, bacon, and toast to go with her coffee. I gathered up all the fruit in the condo and made a little fruit tray for her. I even squeezed fucking orange juice though just the pressure from pushing down on the juicing tool increased the tension in my muscles, and my head pounded harder.
I really wanted to pass out, but when I checked the clock, it was still an hour before Raine would need to head to class.
One hour. I can last that long.
The hour came and went. I cleaned up the remaining mess in the bathroom so Raine could take a shower, but after she got dressed, she sat on the couch and stared at me.
“It’s getting late,” I said.
“I’m not going to classes today.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” she said as she sat back against the throw pillow. “I think we have a little talking to do, don’t you?”
Fuck me.
I looked away and rubbed at my eyes. It did nothing for the throbbing in my head, but I hoped I would look pathetic enough to get a bit of pity.
“I’m not sure I’m up for it,” I said.
“I’m not giving you an option,” Raine retorted.
Fuck me twice.
“Fuck, Raine,” I groaned.
Oh there ya go, drop a few f-bombs on her. That’s bound to help.
She kept glaring.
So much for pity.
“I can’t do this.” I dropped my hand from my head and sat down on the opposite side of the couch. “I feel like shit, and everything I say is going to come out wrong.”
“You deserve to feel like shit,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind while you explain yourself.”
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I stayed that way until she cleared her throat and plopped her bare feet up on the coffee table.
I obviously wasn’t getting out of this, so I went for delay tactics instead.
“Can I run first?” I asked quietly as I looked back at her. “Clear my head a little?”
She glared at me. I thought I might have heard an actual growl.
“It really would help,” I pleaded. I was trying for something between pathetic and desperate, but I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off. Mostly I just needed some time to think about what I was going to say.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Be back in an hour.”
I nodded, got dressed, and took off for the beach.
It was later than my usual run, and there were already a few people milling about the sand. The skies were grey, so I had that going for me; at least the sun wasn’t making my headache worse. The pounding of my shoes against the sand wasn’t helping, but I trudged on.
As the clouds began to thicken, the sky turned a darker shade of grey. Each step along the beach reverberated through my legs and up into my torso and shoulders, keeping time with my throbbing temples. It should have been relaxing and cathartic, but it wasn’t. I wanted each step to take me farther away from the decision I had to make, but I knew it only brought me closer. Even as the huge condo buildings of Miami Beach fell behind me, I knew I couldn’t escape what I had to do.
What was I going to tell Raine?
Sandpipers pointed their beaks at me as they tried to scamper out of my way. I crushed shells under my shoes and dodged washed-up jellyfish as I ran. A Cuban dude with a metal detector walked along the beach just above the tideline with his blue jacket blowing around in the wind. He smiled and said good morning to me, and I ignored him.
It started raining.
Within minutes, I was drenched.
I didn’t care. I just kept pounding the sand with my feet and dodging whatever shit the tide brought in with the waves. If I kept my head down so I couldn’t really see the buildings off to one side or the few people wandering around, I could almost believe I was back on the island.
Except I was wearing a pair of pricey running shoes.
I stopped, ripped the shoes and socks off my feet, and tossed them to the sand up the beach. Maybe someone would steal them, but it wouldn’t matter much to me. I kept on running down the edge of the shore in my bare feet until I couldn’t run anymore. I slowed, walked a bit, and then dropped to the sand and stared out over the water.
My kid is out there.
My son.
I have a fucking son.
The initial shock I had felt over hearing of Jillian’s death had worn off, and all I could think about was him—Alex. My son. My fucking six-year-old son. Landon didn’t have a picture of him, just the name. I had no idea what he looked like. Did he have my color hair? Her eyes? Did he even know about me? Even if he did, would he want anything to do with me? He’d miss his mother and the man who had at least played the father role in his life so far, and he might very well hate me for all of it. If he didn’t know, well…I didn’t know how I was supposed to explain it to him.
I didn’t know how to explain the process of getting him to Raine either.
She’s going to fucking freak out.
As much as I had told her about my past and the people in it, she wasn’t going to understand that there was no way I could avoid the tournament. She’d want us to run, and I’d have to convince her there was no place to hide. If we did run, I’d never find my son.
This was so screwed up, I realized all the shit I had already seen in my life was a goddamn birthday cake with fucking whippy icing compared to this clusterfuck. The freaking sprinkles on top were Landon’s voice popping into my head.
“When all odds are against you, and there’s no way out, you can’t lose your focus. That’s the time you have to find that point inside of yourself—the one that knows there is no such word as defeat—and fucking tie yourself to it, you hear me? If you don’t, you’re lost.”
Strangely enough, the words calmed me. I breathed deeply and leaned my arms across my knees.
I needed to put it all in perspective. I needed to find that focal point inside of myself and cling to it. Once I had my focus, I’d be able to complete the tasks necessary to get all of us out of this mess.
First things first: I got drunk.
Raine was pissed, and I was going to have to explain how it happened. I had the option of glossing over it for the really nasty shit that would follow in hopes that she kind of forgot the whole night I spent off my rocker, but I was pretty sure her short-term memory was better than that. The only other option was promising it wouldn’t happen again and apologizing profusely.
At least I was good at that. With a partial plan in my head, I stood and brushed sand from my ass before heading back in the other direction at a slow jog.
Assuming Raine didn’t pack a bag and head for the door at that point, it brought me to the next item—my son. She knew about him from our time on the raft together. When you’re in a situation you don’t think you’ll survive, there’s no point in hiding anything from each other. I’d told her every sordid detail about my life, the pregnancy of my former girlfriend included. I’d also promptly forgotten about the whole topic because thinking about it fucking hurt.