CHAPTER 31
Drake
“I told you I was going home Sunday night, and you convinced me to stay the night with you. So yes, I had Hank bring my damn truck so I could get to work,” Delia said.
“I just want you to take it easy,” I said to her.
“I’m going to work and that’s that. That was the deal we made. I’m fine and the baby is fine Drake, you heard the doctor, it’s just my body growing to accommodate the baby. Now I need to go. You don’t get a say in how I run my life.”
“You’re pregnant with my child. I'm worried about you,” I said. “Why are you upset at me about that?”
“Because I have work and you seem to think that I can just drop my life and bend to your every whim. But that isn’t how this works. That isn’t how a relationship works, Drake.”
“I’m not asking you to quit, Delia! I’m just asking you to stay home until I can get you in to a doctor to clear you for work.”
“You mean like the one in the hospital that said I was fine?” she repeated. “It’s not like I play hockey, I sit at a damn desk all day. I am going to work.”
I hated losing. It wasn’t what I did. I watched Delia walk out of the house and out to her piece of shit truck. She climbed in behind the wheel and flashed me a look as she backed down the drive. Dammit that woman was stubborn.
As she drove off, my heart fell into my stomach. My hands began to tremble as I fought through an incoming panic attack. I hated her being behind the wheel. If I could, I'd drive her everywhere. Hell, I'd keep her wrapped in bubble wrap and near me at all times if it meant I wouldn't lose her. Seeing her in the hospital brought back so many painful memories for me, memories of losing my wife and baby girl.
I couldn't lose Delia too, especially since she was carrying my child. I cursed Hank under my breath for bringing that fucking truck here. He should’ve hung up the phone and called me when Delia called. He wasn’t hired by her. He was hired by me. I told him to take that shit to her apartment, and that was what he did.
And now, it was driving down my damn driveway carrying my child.
I slammed the front door and stalked out back. I couldn’t focus on the fight or how angry I was at her. I had a ranch I was leaving tomorrow for some fucking mini tour again and I still hadn’t heard from the guys. Far as I knew, I didn’t have a damn band to perform with anymore. Just me and a fucking bus with their faces plastered on it, and Hank. Fucking Hank.
I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Delia about the new schedule for the tour. Hell, I hadn’t had a chance to talk with her about the tour in general. I had less than twenty-four hours to right my mind for it before I’d have to haul ass out of here, and I didn’t even know when Delia was coming back.
I was still cursing and tossing shit around when Paul rode up out back. He hitched the horse to the back porch and helped me shovel shit around, keeping quiet as I worked out my frustrations. I’d caved and ordered a new damn tractor to be delivered to the house today. I wasn’t gonna have Paul busting his ass trying to fix the shit pile we had out back of the barn.
I didn’t ride the tractors. I could fix them, but I wouldn't ride them. Setting aside the fact that my knee was always gonna be in pain from being shattered and replaced, that fucking thing took my mother from me. The mere idea of sitting on it gave me nightmares. Seeing my momma trying to pull me from its path. They were fucking monstrous machines, and I didn’t dare get on top of them anymore.
But Paul loved the fucking things, so he was the one dealing with the delivery.
I stayed out back with his horse while the delivery took place. Paul signed for it and gathered the paperwork, then came around the corner of the house with a smile on his face. He was whoopin’ and hollerind’ like some babe had just taken her top off and tossed it at him. He drove it all the way back to the barn as I leaned against the house, catching my breath and feeling the sweat pour down my back.
Paul was so busy drooling over his expensive new toy that he forgot about his damn horse. I hopped onto the back of the beautiful animal and rode it all the way back to the barn where I found Paul stroking and eyeballing the damn tractor. Hell, I half expected him to whip out his dick and fuck it. I laughed as I shook my head, then got his horse into a spare stall so I could feed and water the damn thing.
“When you’re done makin’ love to that tractor of yours, your horse is in the barn,” I said.
“Hey. This thing is a beauty. Must’ve cost you a fortune. Thanks, Drake. It’s really gonna help around here,” Paul said.
“Fuckin’ hope it does. A fortune is only half of what I paid for that thing.”
I walked back up to the house as the sun began to rise high in the sky. My stomach was growling for lunch but my mind kept wandering back to Delia. Had she gotten to work okay? Did she have something to eat? Should I take her something? Would that piss her off even more?
Walking into the house, I knocked off my boots, then went in search of my phone. I didn’t keep it on me while I was out in the fields. Too many things could break the thing like it was a cheap piece of plastic. But as I strode around my house trying to find it, panic started rising in my chest.
I didn’t even know why. I just panicked.
Picking up my phone, the screen lit up. No missed calls. No new text messages. No nothing. Delia hadn’t called, hadn’t messaged. I opened my phone and scrolled to her number, ready call just to hear her voice.
But a sound coming up the driveway caught my attention.
I ran toward the front door and whipped it open. The sound of a truck coming up the driveway sent my heart into overdrive. It was Delia. It had to be. Maybe she was coming to have lunch with me. Or maybe she left something behind. Or maybe her boss had sent her home and she was bringing her laptop over.
I’d fucking take anything over this worry I felt boiling in the pit of my gut.
But the moment Hank’s truck crested the horizon, my worry gave way to anger. I knew it wasn’t logical to be angry at the man for bringing Delia her truck, but I couldn’t help it.
“Hey Drake,” Hank said, as he slammed his door shut. “You ready to go over tour dates?”
“Nope,” I said. “Just stoppin’ for lunch.”
“Then I’ll stay until you’ve got some time. We really gotta punch this stuff out before tomorrow,” he said.
“You talked to Delia today?” I asked.
“Nope. Haven’t heard from her. Why? Has something happened again?”
“No, but that is my concern. She would’ve been fine if she hadn’t had her truck here to leave in.”
“Drake, you can’t keep her prisoner here—”
“I’m not keeping her prisoner,” I said with a roar. “I’m not her warden.”
“You sure as hell are acting like one,” Hank said. “When she called asking for her truck, she gave me the rundown. Remember what your therapist keeps telling you.”
“And what the fuck would you know about my therapist?” I asked.
“He says with how you’re programmed, you’re gonna try to exert control over things when you start craving. You been craving?”
“I don’t want fucking alcohol. I want Delia. I want the mother of my child safe in my arms. In this house, where I can watch over her and make sure she doesn’t end up--” I stopped myself. I was afraid of losing Delia like I'd lost Shannon and Ava. It was in my head, but I couldn't just make it go away.
“You’re gonna have to get over that. You’re going on tour tomorrow, and she sure as hell isn’t coming along,” Hank said. “So whatever this control thing is you got goin’ on, squash it. Otherwise, you’re gonna lose her before you even had her.”
“Hank, you know what I've been through, man. I can't just let her go. I can't lose her.”
Hank sighed. “Been divorced twice, so I’m not the person to be consulting on women. My point is, you're trying to control her. You think you’re protecting her, but you’re just trying to run her life. She’s not an animal. She ain’t one of your pregnant heifers. She’s an independent woman who’s trying her best, and every time you go over her head, you’re telling her that her best ain’t good enough. That you can do better and she can’t. Cut that shit out.”
“Thought you weren’t an expert on women,” I said.
“I’m an expert on that. It’s what did my first marriage in. You made her a deal, Drake. That she could go home Sunday night.”
“But this is our home,” I said.
“No. It’s your home. Just because she’s pregnant with your kid don’t make this her home any more than wearing your clothes makes her you. You still gotta grow a relationship with that woman. A baby don’t set a precedence. Her walking around and growing your kid doesn’t automatically give you two history. Y’all gotta make that first.”
“Your accent gets thicker when you’re mad, Hank,” I said.
“Damn straight it does. Now get your ass together. We need to go over these dates.”