Page 19 of Slashed By You (Chicago Steel #5)
Chapter 19
Josh
“ M an, it’s good to be home,” I tell myself as I walk to my car after the team bus delivers us to the arena following the world’s longest away trip. For the past week and a half, we were in Colorado. When we arrived, we were scheduled to play two playoff games against the Mountaineers. We played the first, losing in OT, but more than half our team came down with Norovirus before we could play the second. We had to forfeit, and with our previous losses, we were out of the series and the playoffs. As one player who thankfully remained healthy, I had ample time to mull over everything, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me rather grumpy.
We hadn’t won the Cup last year after two consecutive dominations, and I thought this was our turn to show the hockey community we were back. Making me further grumpy was my inability to talk to Kenzie. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like she was avoiding me and I couldn’t figure out why. All I know is it made me uneasy. I was glad I was finally home so I could check on her. I’d talked to Toby yesterday when I called CakeStop after my calls to her had gone unanswered. He said she was fine, just really busy.
Now I’m on my way to her apartment to see her. I need to make sure. Normally, I’m a pretty relaxed guy, but the closer I get to her apartment, the more anxious and troubled I become. My stomach rocks. “I better not have the shits like the guys,” I mumble to myself as I pull up to her building.
Waiting for her to answer is agony. I just want to pull her into my arms. To know everything is okay and get rid of this icky uneasy feeling I have.
The door opens slowly, and the woman I love stands there looking… haggard. What is going on? Kenzie’s hair is going in every direction possible. She has dark circles under her eyes. She’s pale and looks utterly exhausted. I won’t even go into her outfit, a statement piece for sure. It screams I’ve not been feeling well and I’m stained with vomit . My heart drops. “Baby. Are you okay?”
She nods and opens the door wider to allow me access before shuffling away. She groans as she settles on the couch. There are sleeves of opened saltine crackers and half-empty bottles of water scattered over her coffee table. Used tissues cover the couch and floor. Lowering into a chair nearby, I look at her and my heart squeezes. “Kenzie, do you need me to take you to the doctor? You don’t look like you feel too good.”
She looks at me with sad eyes and shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’ll pass. It usually doesn’t last all day,” she croaks.
“Is it stomach flu? That’s usually twenty-four hours, right? Hopefully, it isn’t Norovirus like most of the team had.”
Kenzie shakes her head again, but she won’t make eye contact. Alarm bells go off in my mind. My tone drops as I question, “What do you mean, no? Do you know what’s wrong with you?”
Her head whips up defiantly. “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m perfectly fine.”
Okay. “Perfectly fine?” I skeptically ask, my tone probably making me sound like a dick. “So then, what’s with all this?” I motion to the state of the living room and her appearance.
Grabbing a half-empty bottle of water off the couch, she sips at it while rubbing at her stomach.
“Are you sure you are okay? There’s nothing I can get you? Ginger ale, Gatorade, chicken noodle soup?”
Taking another sip of water, she lowers the bottle and says, “See, I’m fine. Looks like the worst of it has passed.”
What is she talking about? I’m so confused. Before I have time to ask what she means, she bolts off the couch and sprints to the bathroom like she’s training for the Olympics. In her mad dash, she doesn’t get the door shut, and the sound of her vomiting fills the small space. When I think she’s done, I rise and head down the hallway to check on her. “Baby, you don’t sound fine.” I move into the bathroom and flip on the fan to get some ventilation in there. I pull a washcloth from under the counter and soak it in cold water while she rests her head on the toilet seat. Squatting, I place the cooled cloth on the back of her neck and she hums. “Kenz, I’m really worried about you.”
She lifts her head up, wipes away the wetness on her lips, and says, “I appreciate that, but I’m okay. This will pass. At least I hope.” Then she’s lost in thought and mumbles, “That’s what the books say.”
“What books?”
She startles, like she forgot I’m here. “Huh?”
“The books?” I drawl. Her eyes go wide and she looks panicky. I’m dreading the next moment. What is she going to say? My body tenses up like I’m going to be slammed against the boards, and my heart thumps in my chest. Preparing for the unknown, I set my hand on the sink to steady myself.
“Books?” she asks. I nod, needing an explanation. Worry is running rampant through my body, and I feel like I’m preparing for an attack. I don’t want to say anything in case it comes off growly and wrong. I’m not angry right now; I’m scared.
Turning herself away from the toilet, she looks into my eyes. “I don’t know how to say what I need to say. I’m afraid you’ll be mad at me.” Shit. What is she going to say? Right now, I’d like to leave this bathroom, rewind the last day, and pretend everything’s normal.
With my emotions a complete wreck, I rasp, “Just tell me.” Lowering my head, hoping it will soften the blow, I try to prepare for something that might destroy me. I don’t know what she’s going to say, but I feel her slipping away, and the truth of that cuts just like a knife.
Kenzie sniffles, and with tear-filled eyes, she drops a bomb on me. “I’m… pregnant, Josh.”
My head snaps up. “You’re what?” I whisper. In the bathroom’s silence, the words echo off the tiles, resonating deep. She startles at my response. Terror flashes in her eyes and she moves back as if she’s afraid I’m going to attack. I might. The only probable explanation pops into my head. “You’ve been cheating on me?” I rasp.
Kenzie stills and horror fills her face. “What?” she screeches. “No, it’s yours.”
That’s not right. We always used a condom. “That’s bullshit. I’ve always used a condom. I can’t believe you. It’s some other fucker’s baby, and you’re trying to pass it off as mine. You… you’re worse than Kayla.” As I rant, I see Kenzie close in on herself. She wraps her arms around herself as tears flow down her cheeks. Good God, give this girl an Emmy. Then it hits me. “ Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Guess everyone will have to see,” I seethe at her. Hell knows, I’m not sticking around to find out. Bile rises in my throat. She disgusts me. My chest heaves and my breathing is labored as I stand up on shaky legs. Her words have rocked me to the core. I need to get out of here. Now. I take a step back and growl, “I never want to see you again. You and me, we are through.” Then I stomp out of her life, slamming the door on the way out.