Chapter 18—Hugging the Post

Brick paced the floor, muttering obscenities Amelia had never heard before. He wrung his hands and stopped in front of her. She’d been watching him fret and stew with a detached expression. Little did he know she felt anything but detached. She wanted to wring his muscular neck and shake those broad shoulders until the rocks in his idiot head rattled around.

He glared at her and pointed his finger in her face. She swatted his finger away.

“Let me get this straight. You let my mother take Macy without contacting me?”

“I did contact you. You were too busy partying to be bothered.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I couldn’t call. I lost my phone somewhere. Fuck if I know where. The damn thing was dead anyway.”

“You escaped like a coward knowing your mother was coming to pick up Macy. You left me to do your dirty work.” Her voice rose to a shrill pitch, reminding Amelia of her mother, and she hated that.

“A coward?” He ground the words between his teeth.

“Yes, a coward. You avoid the hard stuff in your life, assuming it’ll eventually go away. Well, guess what, asshole. It did, and so am I.”

“Calm down, Ammie, let me explain.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Make it good.”

“I had to get the rookie out of a potentially disastrous situation before he was arrested. Unfortunately, I was a little too late. By the time I got there, they were hauling him off to jail, and I had to bail him out. Do you have any clue how long they make you wait around before they’ll release someone? It’ll be all over the news in a few hours. Trust me.”

“Why couldn’t Rush handle it?”

“Rush was too drunk to be much help.”

“Oh.” She deflated somewhat, but his smug expression built up her steam once again. She’d make him feel something. “Well, then, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t explain why your mom couldn’t reach you all week.”

“Guilty as charged. I didn’t have an answer so I never responded. I honestly didn’t think she’d drive all this way without actually talking to me first.”

“She did try to talk to you. Last night was the only time she could make it before Christmas. She would’ve been much earlier but there was a fatal multicar crash on I-5, and she’d been stuck in traffic for hours.”

“Why didn’t you insist she wait for me to return?” He raked his fingers through his hair and paced the floor, cussing under his breath.

“I did, but I had my own emergency to take care of.”

He sobered slightly and slowed his pacing. His gaze swept over her, and for the first time that night, she saw concern for her. “What?”

“Dean called. Ruby left him for good, and he was in a bad state. I was concerned about him. Your mom said she’d stay with Macy. When I got back hours later, she was gone and had left that note.”

“My mom doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Brick said quietly, staring at his feet. All the fight had drained out of him.

“Obviously. She was really annoyed with you. Said it was normal for you to ignore her messages.”

“She lectures,” he admitted sheepishly. “I hate hearing it. It’s not like I don’t know all that crap she’s telling me.”

“Brick, instead of fighting about this, we need to go get her.”

He stopped, his expression stricken and conflicted. “Maybe Macy is better off with her, anyway, because I’ve disappointed her one too many times. I suck as a father.”

“Like we haven’t all been disappointed by our parents countless times?” Amelia shot back.

“According to my stepmother, I’m a worthless fuckup.” Brick looked up. Irritation flashed in his eyes, and he sounded like a petulant child. He’d come so far to slip back into his selfish ways. Damn the infuriating man.

“Why do you keep insisting on being the man your stepmother claims you are?” Amelia was indignant. “You’re not a fuckup, and you don’t suck as a father.”

“Really? I don’t? Then why didn’t I have the guts to tell my mother I’d changed my mind? That I wanted to be a full-time daddy?”

“I don’t know. Why didn’t you tell her?” Amelia lowered her voice and met his tormented gaze.

“Because I’m a selfish asshole and maybe deep down I didn’t want the responsibility. It’s done. I was playing at being a father, not taking it seriously. It was just one more game to win as far as I was concerned.” He turned his back on her, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t believe you.” Amelia reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” He jerked away. The coldness in his voice would’ve frozen ice in an Arizona desert.

“Marty. I’m sorry. I wish this hadn’t happened.”

He leaned his forehead against the windowpane. “I’ve been trying to be a good dad.”

Amelia lowered her voice. “I know you have.”

“This fucking sucks.”

“She’s your daughter. Tell your mother you’ve changed your mind.”

He turned, resignation in his eyes, as if he’d already given up. “She’s better off with my mother.”

“You aren’t going to fight for her?”

“This is for the best.” His voice was peppered with frustration and resignation.

“You’re a coward. You’re afraid to try for fear you might fail. I understand that, because I’ve been there, too. But failure is the best way to learn to do it better next time.”

“There won’t be a next time. She’s gone.” Anguish contorted his handsome face. He wrung his hands together and moaned.

“Get her back.”

He shook his head, turned on his heel, and grabbed his coat by the door. She ran after him. Uncontrollable anger boiled up in her toward the man who didn’t want his child when she couldn’t have one.

She stopped him before he could do what he did best—run away from the real problems in his life and let someone else clean up his messes. Grabbing his arm, she wrenched him around with strength born from adrenaline and fury.

“You fucking bastard. You’re throwing away the two best things that ever happened to you. I’d give anything to have a child, but I can’t ever have one. And you throw her away.”

“You can’t have a child?” He stared at her hand on his arm, then slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. His eyes weren’t filled with anger or annoyance but with regret and sadness.

“No, never. Complications from my stillbirth. A hysterectomy. But what the hell do you care? The only person you care about is yourself.”

She could almost see his inner battle. Then his face turned stone cold, causing her stomach to plummet.

“You’re right. If you’re smart, you’ll get out while you can,” he said, his voice dead and lifeless.

“Oh, trust me. I am. I’ll be gone when you get back.”

“Fine.” The door clicked shut behind him. She wanted to run after him but didn’t. Instead, she started throwing her stuff into suitcases and garbage bags, anything she could find, barely able to see through the blinding tears.