Dirty Forever (The Dirty Suburbs Book 8) Read online

  Faith glances up at us. “I just got a text from Maxwell,” she gasps, “Sammie’s been taken to the hospital.”

  Chapter 3

  Grace

  My palms are sweaty as I carry the basket of baked goods, following Faith down the brightly-lit hallway. “This feels like a bad idea,” I tell her, hesitation cracking my voice.

  She slows her pace, waiting for me to catch up, and peers at me from over the bouquet of pink carnations she’s carrying. “Gracie—c’mon. Don’t be nervous. This is Sammie we’re talking about.”

  My point exactly.

  Sammie is Daniel’s baby sister. She’s fiercely protective of him. They fight like cats and dogs but those two love the hell out of each other.

  She’s also one of my best friends.

  And that’s the only thing that keeps me walking toward that hospital room. I’d like to believe that if our roles were reversed, she wouldn’t let something like this ruin our relationship. Because divorcing your best friend’s brother isn’t such a big deal, right?

  Faith’s grin brightens her eyes. “And if all else fails,” she says, tickling my ribs, “you’ve got cheesecake brownies…Trust me—you’re good.”

  A small smile comes to my lips. Still, the idea of my sometimes-temperamental sister-in-law emptying the contents of her bedpan on my head has my stomach churning and I have a hard time balancing on my shaky knees. Faith senses my hesitation.

  With a super exaggerated eye-roll, she grabs me by the wrist. “You overanalyze everything,” she gripes as she pushes open the door and practically drags me inside.

  She coos as she hastily deposits the flowers on a table, her eyes never leaving the little bundle wrapped up in Sammie’s arms. “Oh my god…” she whispers, tiptoeing closer to the bed to peer down into the baby’s face. “You’re here, Hannah! You’re here!”

  The whole family surrounds the bed. Proud Papa Keeland stands protectively over Sammie and the baby, ready to intervene if anyone gets carried away with the snuggles and kisses. His brother, Maxwell, wraps his arms lovingly around Faith and she puts a quick peck on his cheek before turning back to the newborn. For someone who swears not to want any kids of her own, my sister really gets excited over babies.

  Sammie’s parents, Claire and Gerald, beam as they fuss over their new grandbaby. Isla is here too, looking so proud of her best friend who apparently pushed that eight-pounder out in no time without painkillers.

  Lingering in the background, I smile to myself. Baby Hannah is here.

  Nine months can seem like an eternity when you’re waiting for a baby to show up. I know from experience. My hand unconsciously goes to my stomach and through the thin fabric of my shirt, my fingers trace the raised tissue of my jagged C-section scar.

  Now, I wish that I’d brought Sebastian with me instead of leaving him home with Lily. I want to give my precious little boy a squeeze and a kiss. His birth was the most beautiful moment of my life. But all the love I felt in my heart wasn’t enough to keep tragedy at bay. The memory still stings.

  Claire’s focus finally leaves her granddaughter and falls on me. And it’s surprise in my mother-in-law’s dark Latin features when she looks at me. “Grace!” The smile that is usually bright enough to warm a cloudy Reyfield afternoon now feels cold and strained.

  “Congratulations…” I say hesitantly as I take a step closer.

  I regret it instantly because the air in the room stills.

  “Thank you,” Keeland says awkwardly, glancing down for his wife’s reaction. Sammie sits stiffly, staring through me without even efforting a smile.

  “I brought snacks,” I tell them, swinging the basket of baked goods to bring it to their attention.

  My mother-in-law’s lips curve at the corners but her eyes don't light up the way they usually do when she smiles from her gut. “Very sweet of you, Grace,” she says tightly then turns away.

  It’s clear that they’ve seen that footage from Daniel’s courthouse press conference.

  And I was right—I’m obviously not wanted here.

  “Well, I’ll leave you all to celebrate,” I say quickly, backing away toward the exit. “I’ll just…I’ll just leave this…right here.” I set down the cakes and muffins next to the vase of carnations. No one answers. Faith’s sympathetic smile is the only assurance I get as I leave. “Congrats again.”

  Needing a moment to gather myself, I pause just outside the door. I suck in a breath now that I’m liberated from the oppressive energy of the room. Why did I let Faith convince me to come here?

  I turn around too fast and slam smack into a hard, warm chest. Gasping, I look up into the dark, tempestuous eyes of my husband. His warm, spicy smell surrounds me and I shiver.

  I may have filed for divorce but my heart obviously didn't get the memo. It rages against my ribs like a pubescent girl running into her crush at the mall on a Saturday afternoon.

  My palms are flat against his chest, propping me up. The memory of all that this man has hiding under his navy blue custom suit comes rushing back to me. The washboard abs. The golden skin. The lush trail of hair creeping out the waistband of his boxers up his chest. My breathing goes shallow and my stomach feels like it’s filled with helium. But the look in his eye tells me that I'm the only one feeling nostalgic.

  He hates me.

  It's written plain as day in his furrowed brows and his blazing irises. The sense of betrayal in his expression is haunting. His fingers curl around my shoulders, steadying me before he effortlessly steps around me, avoiding me like a traffic cone in the middle of the road.

  “Daniel…” his name leaves my lips. He pauses for a fraction of a second before shooting me a glance over his shoulder.

  There are so many things I should say. The most important one being, “I’m sorry.” But my throat locks around the words. With a tight expression, he turns away from me, continuing his procession into his sister’s hospital room to meet his brand-new niece.

  When the door opens, his family bursts into cheers.

  “Look Hannah! It’s your Uncle Daniel.”

  “Come Daniel. Come take a picture with the baby.”

  “You washed your hands, right? Do you want to hold her?”

  The door swings closed behind him, sealing in the excited chatter and leaving me alone on the outside. In that moment, I question my decision to end my marriage.

  Was this a huge mistake?

  As I make my way to my car, I know that it no longer matters what I want. I can’t go back. If Daniel and I weren’t done before, I stuck a fork in our relationship when I signed those dissolution papers and handed them over to his archenemy.

  I slam the door of my minivan behind me and sit in the dark cab, fighting the urge to cry.

  Chapter 4

  Daniel

  I run a finger along my brand new niece’s soft cheek. “Good job, kiddo,” I say to Sammie, “it must have been tough popping out this big, old head.”

  My little sister rolls her eyes. “Ignore your uncle, Hannah. He’s a hater. You may not understand what that word means right now, but hang out with him long enough and you’ll get a clear idea.”

  Maxwell pipes in, leaning over the baby. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ve got cool Uncle Maxwell to pick up the slack.”

  Psht. As if I’d let Uncle Maxwell upstage me.

  I punch him playfully in the shoulder. “Don’t throw shade. Uncle Daniel is about to be lit and poppin’. You better stay woke!” I wink at a baffled-looking Maxwell. “See, I’ve been practicing my tween-girl slang and everything. Me and Hannah are so gonna hang. Hundo P.”

  (Translation: “Don’t be jealous. Uncle Daniel going to be much trendier than you. You’d better beware! Hannah and I will spend lots of time together. One hundred percent.” How do I know this? I spent fourteen billable hours researching slang currently used by teenagers for an online bullying case I was working on last month. #Slay.)

  Maxwell grumbles under his breath. “What the hell did
you just say?” He looks away in defeat.

  Chuckling, I bring my attention back to the baby. “She’s adorable. Cutest little girl I’ve ever seen,” I tell the proud parents.

  Huddling around the newborn, we continue to make small talk for a few minutes.

  When, I glance down at my watch, I feel my mother’s hard stare on the side of my face. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to work,” she says with disdain in her tone.

  I shrug. “Got a full plate,” I mutter under my breath as I slip back into my jacket and grab my briefcase. “Clients…Deadlines…Blah blah blah…”

  That’s just an excuse. The truth is that I need to get far away from here, I need to get out of this room. Because what my family doesn’t know is that it was in a hospital room just like this a little over a year ago that my marriage began falling apart. As I held my son in my arms for the first time, my heart about to burst from joy, my wife was beginning to withdraw from me for some reason that I still don’t understand. I didn’t realize it then, but I started losing her that day. She began fading away.

  I suck in a deep breath to pull myself back into the present. My mother continues to glare at me.

  My father vocalizes the contempt her face displays. “If you devoted half as much time to your marriage maybe Grace wouldn’t be serving you with divorce papers on the evening news.” His cheeks are nearly as red as the hair on his head.

  Well, then…

  A cold tension slides over the room. Up until now, my family had been polite enough to avoid discussing the petite, blonde-haired, brown-eyed heartbreaker who just waltzed out of the room. But now here it is, the hot topic on everyone’s mind, laid out in the open – my disgruntled wife and my failed marriage.

  Thanks, dad.

  My mother mutters under her breath. “The nerve of that girl to come in here after what she just did…”

  “Mom!” Sammie hisses, tilting her head suggestively in Faith’s direction. Faith goes tense as she prepares herself to defend her sister’s honor.

  Welcome to the maternity unit of Awkward General Hospital…

  I want to tell them to mind their own business because they don’t have the first clue what happened between me and Grace. I want to punch a wall. Hell, I want to ball up in a corner with my thumb in my mouth. I’m pissed. I’m shocked. I’m hurt.

  Maybe I should have paid more attention to my marriage. Maybe I should have spent less time solving other people’s problems and focused more on my own. But Grace has been pushing me away with all her might. A man can only take so much before he just gives up and turns to something else.

  Another guy might have found a mistress, someone to invest in emotionally and sexually. Me, I turned to my work because the thought of another woman’s hands on my body turns my stomach inside out.

  I love my wife.

  But I hate her.

  The baby’s little whimpers fill the silent room and Sammie coos in her ear, attempting to hush her. Everyone stands wordlessly, waiting for my next move. I’m not in the mood to be tonight’s source of entertainment. I’ve already made a clown of myself once today.

  “Take care,” I throw coldly over my shoulder as I march toward the door.

  I hear Keeland call out to me. “Hey man – let me walk you out.”

  I give him a smile as he catches up to me. “Don’t leave your little girl right now. I’m cool.”

  With a hitched brow, he repeats himself. More forcefully this time. “I’m walking you out.”

  I sigh with resignation as he strolls down the hospital corridor beside me.

  We walk in silence for a solid minute before he finally says. “So, you okay, man? We saw the video. I could tell that she completely blindsided you with that divorce petition.” His forehead creases with concern.

  I breathe in sharply and dodge around a gurney sitting the middle of the path. “I’m good. I’m…good.” But Keeland has been my best friend since high school. He knows that I’m not good.

  He shakes his head. “That was cold. The way she just threw those papers in your face when you least expected it. And in public. On screen.” He shakes his head some more. “I definitely wouldn’t be ‘good’ if Sammie pulled that shit on me.”

  A pair of nurses walk by, their gazes locked on my face. They lean in close to one another and begin whispering. I’m sure they’ve seen the damn video, too. “Look, I can’t focus on this right now. It’ll drive me crazy and I need my sanity. I’m working on the most important case of my career.”

  “Would you listen to yourself? No case can be more important than fixing your marriage,” Keeland tells me as we stroll out the hospital’s sliding doors.

  My steps halt and we face each other. “There’s nothing left to fix. It’s over.”

  He gives me a hard stare, penetrating my skull with his freakish silver-blue eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “She decided. It’s what she wants. So I’m not going to run her down and beg like some chump. I’m gonna stand with my fucking head high.”

  He huffs and folds his arms across his wide chest. “Hiding behind your pride, huh? That’s a little boy move. Be a man, Daniel.”

  I glare at him with sharp eyes. “Are you on my side or what?”

  “I’m on your side. I support whatever makes you happy. And this divorce isn’t it, man. All I know is that if it was Sammie sending me divorce papers, I would move heaven and earth to make things right.”

  My patience starts wearing thin. “You’re not in my shoes, okay? You don’t know what my marriage has been like over the past year. Do you think I want to stay in that hellhole studio apartment all by myself? I'm restless. I don't eat. I don't sleep. I work around the clock so I don't have to face how miserable I am. I want my wife…But she wants a divorce.”

  His chest heaves on a stoic exhale. “Fine,” he says and then claps one hand on my shoulder. “If you need anything, remember that me and your sister are just one phone call away.”

  I give him a nod. He stretches his hand out to me for that silly handshake we invented when we were dumb high school kids, when we had all the girls dropping at our feet, when life was simple.

  I laugh as we clap palms and then bump fists twice before twisting our fingers into what can only be described as gang signs. A spear of gratitude spins in my stomach, pushing its way through the cloud of despair wrapped around my brain. At least, I’ve got a few good people I can count on to get me through this.

  “All right, man,” I say as I aim my car starter in the direction of my Mercedes.

  “All right.” Keeland takes two steps backward toward the hospital entrance.

  I call out to him just as he’s spinning to go back inside. “Hey Keeland.”

  “Yup?”

  “Hold onto your girls – your wife and your daughter. Don’t end up like me.”

  He gives a hard nod and disappears through the automatic doors.

  Chapter 5

  Daniel

  My dick is so fucking hard right now. "Just for the record, you look hot as fuck in that little costume."

  She spins around and wiggles her curvy ass for the camera. Glancing over her shoulder with a smoldering look that penetrates the lens, she giggles. "Well what kind of Playboy Bunny would I be if I didn't look hot in this costume?"

  Attention riveted to the beauty on the screen, I lean my head against the wall behind the bed and slide my hand under the elastic of my boxers. My shaft is as stiff as steel, watching her in that little outfit and those high heels, making those sexy faces.

  A voice calls out from behind the camera. “Angel, please don’t get argumentative right now…” I chuckle.

  She puts her hands on her hips and pouts. “I’m just saying that, in order to be a Playboy Bunny, you have to look hot in the costume. If you don’t, then you’re not a Playboy Bunny. You’re just a person wearing bunny ears and a slutty black romper–”

  “Grace – we’re shooting a porno. Not a presiden
tial debate.” I hear the mix of frustration and amusement in my voice as it pours out of the computer speakers.

  “Right…right…” She shakes her head, snapping back into vampy seductress mode.

  "Now, come over here," I command her. "It's time to undress you.”

  With a sly grin, she climbs onto the bed and crawls across the comforter, heels and all.

  Sitting in my dank little studio apartment, I jerk my cock roughly as I watch the masterful piece of cinematography on the screen. Grace is sitting in my lap now. I set the camera on the tripod and my face comes into view. I look younger, wearing the grin of a cocky bastard who lucked out and snagged a girl who was way too good for him.