Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) (22 page)

Chapter 49

I adjust the collar of my shirt and pull in a long breath as I set foot on the pathway leading up to the modest, retro-style bungalow. I double-check the address that Daniel texted to me last night.
This is it.

I take one glance back at the cab as it pulls away and the instinct to jump into it and ride back to safety is strong, but I know what I need to do.

For Sammie. For the baby. For me.

A woman kneels in the flowerbed at the front of the house, digging away at the mulch with a tiny shovel. As I approach, she pulls back the visor of her wide-brimmed garden cap and uses her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Keeland?” Mrs. Trotten says as she stands, wiping her hands on her linen pants.

“Hello, Mrs. Trotten.” I give her my best attempt at a smile as I lean in and kiss her on the cheek just like I did when I last saw her. Only this time, she doesn’t look too happy to see me.

“What are you doing here?” she asks throwing a cautious glimpse back towards the house.

I swallow hard, tugging at the neck of my button-up shirt. Suddenly, it’s a bit hard to breathe. I should have probably worn a t-shirt because the Florida heat has absolutely no chill. But I’m here to have a man-to-man talk with the father of the woman I love – the woman I knocked up – so I had to look presentable.

“I’d like to speak with your husband, ma’am.” I hold my shoulders back and try to feign self-assurance. I’m wavering on the inside. “He and I have some things to discuss.”

She purses her lips and contemplates me for a long while before nodding to herself. “Of course,” she says as she sets down her gardening tools. “Have a seat on the front porch.” She heads into the house.

I climb the front stairs and take a seat in one of the wicker chairs facing the quiet street, setting my briefcase down at my feet.

Yes — I brought a briefcase. I mean business.

I hear voices speaking animatedly inside the house and after an eternity, Gerald Trotten emerges from the house followed closely by his wife. He has always been a stern man but his appearance has only hardened with age. He’s taller than I remember and broad, too. Despite the slight bulge of his stomach and the silver in his cropped hair, he looks fit and strong for his age. I wince when I imagine the impact of his fist connecting with my jaw. I’m not a wimp. Not by a long shot, but if he decides to strike out at me, I can’t hit him back. Getting into a fistfight with her father is definitely not the way to win Sammie back.

I stand to shake his hand. “Good day, Mr. Trotten,” I say as I extend my hand to him.

He takes it, squeezing so hard and forcefully that I flinch. “You have some nerve showing up here, Masters. After you knocked up my daughter.” He sits in the chair across from mine.

Wow — he cut straight to the chase
. I’m melting in the Florida sun or maybe it’s just my fiery nerves that are melting me from the inside out.

Mrs. Trotten eyes him threateningly. “Gerald…” They exchange glances, communicating nonverbally in a way that only a couple married for thirty-something years can. Mrs. Trotten sets down the tray of sweet tea that she’s carrying in her hands and pours a glass each for me and her husband. “I’m going to go start lunch,” she says as she steps back inside. “Your mother must be hungry.” She disappears into the house.

I turn to the angry man across from me. “Mr. Trotten, I know that this is not the ideal situation, but I love your daughter more than anything in this world. I have every intention of doing the right thing given the circumstances.”

The older man doesn’t say anything. He just cocks a gray brow and looks at me.

“So firstly, I’d like to settle an old score.” I pick up my briefcase and open it on my lap. I pull out a white envelope and hand it to him. He rips open the envelope and pulls out the check inside. “This is payment of the rent my mother owed eight years ago. It’s eaten away at me on the inside to know that you never received this payment. I tried to give it to Daniel but he wouldn’t accept it. My mother is a good woman but she was going through a rough time. Still, that’s no excuse. You and your family were always so generous to us. I’m sorry it took so long to finally get this payment to you.”

The man looks at me grimly, his lips pulled into a straight line. He gives me a slight nod but looks none too impressed as he folds the check neatly and slips it into the breast pocket of his cotton shirt.

I reach into my briefcase and pull out a thick stack of papers. I hand it to Mr. Trotten. “This is an offer to purchase that house. Prepared by my lawyer and my realtor. Daniel mentioned that you’ve been having a hard time renting it out in this economy. Well, I’m about to have a family. And we need a home, so if you’re willing to sell it to me, I’d be honored to raise my family there. That house is the only place that I’ve ever felt stable and secure. I can see myself growing old there. With your daughter, sir.” I search his face, trying to gauge his reaction but all I get is his void expression. So, I continue to speak. “I left the price blank. You just tell me what the house will cost me and it’s sold. Please, take some time to review it and let me know your asking price.”

His eyes are still steely and hard as he takes the papers from me and glances at them before resting them next to the pitcher of sweet tea. It doesn’t look like I’m making headway with this man and I’m sweating even more than that damn pitcher.

I reach into my briefcase again. “And most importantly, Mr. Trotten, I’m here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I love that woman. She saved me from what would have been a sad, lonely life of solitude. She’s the most wonderful person I know. She’s sweet and funny. She’s caring, dependable. I’d trust her with my life. Not to mention how beautiful she is. I hurt her and I know that winning her back is going to be an uphill battle, but I won’t rest until Sammie is my wife, sir. I’d love to have your blessing as I embark on the fight of my life.” I hand him a red, velvet-covered ring box.

Mr. Trotten opens the box and stares at the diamond-studded band inside. He then contemplates my face for a long time as he sets the ring aside and takes a leisurely sip of tea. He removes his handkerchief from his pocket and blots at the sweat dampening his forehead.

I feel the gurgling of my anxious stomach as I pull the last item from my briefcase. “I’m not sure if you already know, but I want to be upfront with you, sir.” My hand is trembling as I hand Sammie’s father my court file detailing the mess that landed me in prison. “I went to jail for defending someone I cared about when I thought she was being attacked.” Mr. Trotten’s lips pull into a straight line and I can tell from his ragged breathing that he’s even more upset now than he was before. But, I need to be straightforward with him. “I know it looks bad, sir, and you probably don’t want your daughter getting married to an ex-con, but with all due respect, I’d do the same or worse to protect Sammie and our baby. I hope you can understand that.”

Mr. Trotten is silent as he leafs through the file, getting a glimpse of the hellish last three years of my life. Then, he tosses the documents onto the table and gives me a hard stare. With a cold expression, he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out my check. My stomach plummets with disappointment as I watch him tear the paper to shreds.

“Sir —”

He digs into his pocket for a pen and flips through the purchase offer for the house and scrawls a big fat ‘0’ into the blank space for the asking price. Then, he signs it and tosses it back to me.

“Sir, please —”

He holds up a hand to silence me. I hold my breath in anticipation of what he’ll say next. “When my wife told me that you were back in Reyfield, my intention was to jump on the first flight down there and kick you out of that house. But my wife talked me out of it. Now, this…” he grumbles. “Your life is a fucking mess, Masters. It always has been.” I flinch at his harshness. “Your intentions may be noble…but I can’t accept this. I can’t accept your money…”

“Mr. Trotten, I –”

He sighs heavily. “The house is yours, son. I don’t want your money. My daughter has been smitten with you for as long as I can remember. You want to do right by her and my grandchild, so I’ll support you anyway I can.”

I sit in stunned silence, trying to absorb what he just said. “Sir?”

“Take the house, Masters. To raise your new family.”

“Mr. Trotten, I can’t take your house for free. I can afford to pay for it. Trust me.” The sale of Master Ink has left me with a nice chunk of change — seven figures, to be precise — to invest and play with as I figure out this next phase of my life.

“The choice is yours, son. You take the house for free or you find somewhere else for your future wife and child to stay.”

My heart lurches in my chest. I can’t believe that he just said that. “Thank you, Mr. Trotten, so much.”

He reaches out and we shake hands. “This is your chance to clean it up, to start over. As long as you take care of my baby girl and keep her happy, you have my support in every way.” I breathe an audible sigh of relief. Then, his voice lowers menacingly. “But if you hurt her…” The warning in his eyes is clear.

“No, sir. I would never,” I promise earnestly.

He appraises me for a moment, trying to gauge my sincerity. Then, he turns back towards the house. “Claire — get this boy a sandwich. After buying a ring like that for our daughter —” he gestures towards the jewelry box with his chin and bellows a laugh, “— he probably can’t even afford to buy himself lunch.”

Chapter 50

I showed up a little early. This is my very first one-on-one client consultation and I don’t want to screw it up. Quite frankly, I’m shocked that my boss, Mr. White, is letting me take on this file unsupervised so soon after being hired. He must really respect my dad’s friendship because I don’t see why he would trust me like this with his business and reputation.

Anyway, I’m glad for the opportunity and I’m not going to mess this up. Not a chance. I set my notepad and two pens in front of me on the conference table and smooth down the lapels of the dark oversized blazer. I’m wearing a knee-length, navy blue tent dress underneath to hide my ballooning stomach.

I’m not ashamed of my pregnancy but people around these parts tend to be a tad conservative and I get judgmental looks when I show up with a baby bump and no rock on my ring finger. Usually, I can manage that just fine, but today, my emotions have been swinging like a pendulum so I put on the blazer to avoid a critical stare that I can’t handle.

The door swings open suddenly and I rise to my feet. Jessica, the receptionist, enters the room and the client follows behind her. An intense wave of morning sickness hits me when Keeland steps into the room. “Samantha, this is Mr. Masters,” she says offering him a smile. “Mr. Masters, you’re in good hands with Samantha here.”

“Thank you, Jessica,” Keeland says but his eyes never leave mine. Jessica’s gaze lingers on Keeland’s dark, ass-hugging trousers, nearly walking straight into a wall as she slinks out of the room, leaving me alone with him.

“What are you doing here?” I choke out, instinctively pulling my notebook over my stomach to hide it.

He moves towards me. “Sammie, don’t do that, please. Don’t hide our baby.”

He knows.
My heart jumps into my throat and sweat breaks out across my skin. Feeling cornered, I say the first thing that comes to my mind. “How do you even know it’s yours?” My tone is challenging and defensive.

Keeland just laughs as he approaches. “How do I know?” He cups my face in his palm. “Because it’s
you
. And it’s
me
. It’s
us
, Sammie. That’s how I know this baby is mine.”

I melt right there, into the warmth of his hand. “I – I was going to tell you, Keeland. I swear –”

He braces me by the shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay, Sammie.” He pulls me close to his chest and his comforting energy wraps around me. He presses his lips to my scalp and rubs his hand over my growing belly. I suddenly feel like I’m home. Like all is well. Like all the crying and agonizing I did over the past few weeks was for naught.

This is not the reaction I’d expected when I’d imagined telling him that I’m pregnant. I’d imagined him freaking out and yelling at me and demanding a paternity test, maybe. This is so much better. This feels good. It feels right.

But then, I remember…

I remember why we’re not together. The memory of why I left Thornbush Lane, why I ran to Florida, why I left Keeland behind, it floods my brain.

“You lied to me,” I say accusingly as I pull away from him, putting distance between us.

He sighs but he doesn’t try to touch me again. Instead, he pulls out a chair, motioning for me to sit. I would protest, but my ankles are swollen and the tiniest amount of effort quickly exhausts me these days. Once I’m sitting, Keeland rolls out the chair next to me and sits as well.

“I should have told you about my past, Sammie. You had every right to know.”

“Yes, I did,” I say, my voice shaking. “I deserved to know.”

His eyes drop to the table and he seems ashamed. “I don’t even know where to start.” He shoves his fingers through his hair and sighs.

“Start at the beginning,” I prod. “I want to know everything.”

He glances out the window at the dilapidated office buildings across the street. “I thought I was in love with a woman but she was all wrong for me, Sam.”

My eyebrows crinkle. “Rhys?”

He nods. “I really thought I loved her. I thought she was the one. I went out and bought her a ring. We started planning a wedding. But she betrayed me in the worst way.” He bows his head, pain visibly consuming his being.

My heart hammers as I wait for his next words. “What happened, Keeland?”

He lifts his eyes to mine. “We lived together long before we got engaged, but once we started planning the wedding, I started working harder, longer hours so that I could give her the wedding she wanted.” He blows a breath past his lips as he relives whatever it is that has him in such agony. “I was so stupid,” he mutters under his breath.

The urge to reach out and comfort him rises in me. But I have to remind myself that he hurt me and that’s inexcusable, especially after everything we’ve been through.

“One night, I came home a few hours early. The baby – Ryan – was still in daycare. Rhys was supposed to be alone. I wanted to surprise her, to spend some time with her before he came home. But she wasn’t alone. There was a man’s shoes by the front door. I heard her groans and cries coming from the bedroom.”

His voice cracks and I hold my breath, my heart breaking for him.

“I stood there at the front door, frozen. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt so fucking betrayed. I was furious.” He fists his hand in his lap. “But I wouldn’t kill a man for that. I wouldn’t murder someone over my cheating fiancée. It wasn’t until I realized that she was crying out for him to stop…It wasn’t until I heard her beg for help…When I rushed into the bedroom, she was hitting his sides, kicking and pushing at him…That’s when I flew into a rage…That fucker was in my bed, with my girl, forcing himself on her. At least that’s what she let me believe. I tore him off of her and tossed him to the ground and went at him…I couldn’t, I wouldn’t let some punk enter my home and harm my woman and live to tell. I wanted to kill him, Sammie. I planned on it. I had every intention of doing it.”

He’s sweating, his body vibrating with rage. I can’t stand back anymore, I need to comfort him. I move my chair closer and put my hand on his knee. “Keeland…”

His hand covers mine. “A few weeks after the verdict was handed down in my case, she broke down and confessed everything. The sex was completely consensual but when she’d heard me open the front door, all she could think about was protecting her own ass and saving her image as a dutiful fiancée. That’s why she pretended that she’d been attacked…And you want to know what the worst part is?” I nod hesitantly almost afraid to hear because I know that it will shred my heart. “That ‘stranger’ who was in my bed? He was Charles, Ryan’s biological father. They’d been carrying on an affair the whole time, right under my nose and I had no idea.”

A chill runs right through me and I shiver at the reality of how deeply Keeland has been damaged by a woman he loved. “Baby…” I whisper, my heart splitting open.

“I was hurt. I felt betrayed. But I wasn’t ashamed. I’m not ashamed. I went to jail for defending what I thought was mine to defend. That’s what a real man does. He risks everything to defend what’s his…And you? You’re mine, Sammie. You and this baby.” He puts his hand on my stomach. “I’d kill for you…I’d die for you...”

My heart wraps around my throat and I can’t find words.

“Look, I know this is a lot to process and I don’t want to overwhelm you. I just want you to come home with me, Sammie. Come back to Reyfield and let’s work this out.”

My voice comes out weak and small. “But you lied to me, Keeland.”

“Technically, I didn't
lie
to you."

I don’t want his excuses right now. There’s too much on the line. "Please, Keeland. Don’t insult me. After everything we been through, don't get
technical
with me. Get
real
. Get
honest
. You kept secrets. Big, important ones.” I draw in a sharp breath. “Secrets and lies have the same impact on a relationship. They both make it impossible for me to trust you."

He watches me with remorseful eyes. “I should have told you about my criminal record. Immediately. You deserved to know. I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry that I hurt you. It’s just that, my life’s been shaded in gray for so long. And then you came, and you painted everything in color…and that scared me. I had promised myself that I’d never fall in love again so I didn’t know what to do with everything I started feeling for you.”

I whimper into my hands.

He continues. “When I first came to town, you didn’t want anything to do with me and I just wanted to get back in your good graces. And then, you started to let me in and it was the best feeling in the world. I didn’t want to lose that again. It was selfish of me. I know. But I just didn’t want you to hate me again…Like you do now.”

My chin wobbles and my voice cracks as I speak. “You see, that’s the thing, Keeland…I don’t hate you…I love you.”

Keeland’s eyes shine blindingly bright. “Fuck – I feel like I’ve waited my whole life to hear you say that…”

He jumps to his feet and pulls me into his arms. He presses my body to his and kisses the top of my head as his hand circles my baby bump over and over.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he whispers against my scalp. “We can work it out. We can fix anything. I love you so much.” He pulls back and looks me in my eyes. “I wasn’t forthcoming with you, Sammie. I’ll admit to that. But I’m still that guy you went to school with. I’m still that guy who used to eat with your family at the dinner table…I’m still the guy you fell in love with…Tell me we can work this out because I don't want to spend the rest of my life searching for an ‘adequate’ substitute for what I feel when I'm with you…I want
you.
Simple.”

He’s so earnest, so sincere right now. My walls are crumbling.

And then, he leans in and he kisses me with that warm, plump mouth of his. All of my objections fade to black when his lips touch mine.

“You’re carrying my kid. We're about to bring a new life into the world. Can you take this leap of faith with me? Can you take a chance on me? I know it’s a lot to ask…”

He’s right. Even after all the betrayal he experienced with Rhys, he bet his heart on
me
. Now, it’s my turn to take a risk, a leap of faith and take a gamble on him. Because he’s what I want. A family with him, a life with him.

My hand leaps to the space beneath my collarbone and flits across my tattoo.

Compassion
. It’s what I need right now.

He drops to his knees in front of me. And this time, when he opens the jewelry box in his hand, it isn’t a pair of earrings staring up at me. It’s the most beautiful white gold band with diamonds curling all around the princess-cut stone cushioned in the center.

“Say you’ll marry me, Sammie. Say ‘yes’.”

I nod, laughing through my tears. “Yes. Yes, Keeland. Yes!”

He jumps to his feet wearing the happiest grin I’ve ever seen. He pulls me into his arms and spins me around, kissing me and kissing me and kissing me.