It feels like a knife has just stabbed into my back. My heart sinks to the floor. I feel hurt, broken… disappointed.
Chapter Nine
Getting Physical
Ashiara
“I can’t get over how absolutely adorable he is,” Shannon gushes.
“I know. He’s amazing,” I murmur softly while staring down at my three-week-old son.
“I have to take him to Melanie's this weekend. Right now, we’ve got a doctor’s appointment. He’s had a rash I need to get looked at.”
“Any chance the father of the baby is ever going to know he’s the father?” she asks curiously, prying as usual.
“Not likely. Besides, Tag doesn't want a kid or need a kid in his life. He knows it. One day he might thank me for this.”
“Or hate you,” Shannon murmurs under her breath, making me tense all over.
“He already hates me. You should have seen the look in his eyes the night I told him Trip wasn’t his.”
“Trip is an odd name for a little boy.”
The night Tag landed in the fountain flashes through my mind. It was an adorable trip that humanized him.
“I think it’s cute. So, what time is Billy coming to pick you up?”
“Any minute now. What time are you going to be back? I don’t like you being off without your bodyguards.”
“There haven’t been any calls, notes, or flower arrangements for a while. This creep just stops and starts. He’s apparently grown bored with tormenting me now. Have you met Melanie or Wren yet?”
“No. Billy and I are playing this really slow. Right now, it’s nothing serious. I haven’t even mentioned it to my parents - that’s how slow we’re taking it.”
“Well, I for one think you two are perfect for each other.”
Her long, red hair swishes as she drops her head back and smiles in delight.
“We’ll see,” she says.
***
Ashiara
“Well, Ash, I think he’ll be just fine. Just change his diaper brand and see if that helps. I’ll see you next week for the checkup.”
I nod as I walk out to the almost dark streets. The car-seat weighs more than Trip, and I’m struggling to carry it down the street. I don’t know why I didn’t grab the stroller.
I’ve lost too much weight, and I barely have any strength these days.
That’s what happens when your life gets as fucked up as mine has. I'm still head-over-heels for a guy who is the father of my son, but he isn’t ready to be a father or a boyfriend.
Sheesh. Daytime television doesn’t have shit on my drama.
The walk to the car is exhausting and long, but there weren’t any other parking spaces available. I smile in relief when I finally see my car, and I quickly fasten Trip in before walking around to my side of the vehicle.
Just when I’m about to open the door, I feel a sharp, piercing pain in my side, and I look down to see blood dripping.
I never heard the gunshot or the glass shattering. All I can hear now is the sound of Trip crying as I turn to see a short, hooded figure running away - gun in hand.