Chapter 10

Kennedy

"I like the blue,"Austen says as he wraps his arm over my shoulders, guiding me away from the hospital.

I look at him and smile. He's cute in a rugged kind of way. He's full of tattoos and piercings but sweet, with his piercing blue eyes and black hair. He's roughly 5"11, so he"s definitely taller than my 5'4", and treats me well.

We met through Kale, my tattoo artist, and have been dating for about two months.

I clear my throat. "I fancied a little change."

He sends me a blinding smile, squeezing me to him and admits, "It suits you."

I decided to dip-dye my hair blue on a whim, and I must admit, I like it, too.

"So, when is your next weekend off? I thought maybe we could go away," he asks, guiding me around the people on the sidewalk.

I swallow hard. I like Austen, I do, and he's a great kisser, but I don't feel a connection. I don't get the tingly sensation or the sparks when he touches me. Instead, I feel icky and dirty. He knows I have issues; Kale made sure Austen knew I was hurt in some way, and we decided to be casual and take it slow. I know he sees others, but it doesn't hurt me, especially when we haven't been intimate, not going past kissing, while, well, I just call the one number I know I shouldn't, listening to his day, hearing his pain.

It's hard to give up a person I have loved for as long as I have. The man is my heart, but he has Prue, who apparently lost their baby. He chose her, not me. I need to stop calling him and listening to his voice.

If he loves me so much, why is he with her?

Why did he give her his cut?

I need to move forward, and Austen has been patient with me. I think it's time I move on with my life. I need to stop calling Doc, and I need to give Austen my whole attention, well, as much as I can with my job, my mental health, and my hurt.

I can do that right?

I give him a smile, deciding something I hope won't come and bite me in the ass. I say, "In about three weeks."

He grins wide, squeezing me to kiss my forehead, before continuing to walk me home from work. My mind wonders like it normally does, and now I feel sick for agreeing to go away with him, knowing he'll want more.

"Kennedy Gray," a voice calls from my left. I smile at the nurse before standing and gently putting my hand on my small bump.

Today is my twenty-week scan, where I find out if I'm having a boy or a girl. I'm excited, but I also feel a little guilty. Lola messaged, and I haven't messaged her back, but apparently, Prue lost the baby, and here I am carrying Doc's child while she's apparently lost hers.

Well, that is if she was actually pregnant….

Sniper called after Lola texted. He doesn't believe she was pregnant at all. According to my dear friend, Prue used it as an excuse to get Doc, and if she did, well, it worked.

I stand on the scale, before the nurse takes my blood pressure, and then a urine sample. After that, I take a seat on the exam table, swinging my legs and waiting for Dr. Lansley, my phone burning a hole in my pocket.

I want to call him. But he chose her. I knew he had a family to think of now, but since finding out about the baby, the need to call pulls me in.

"Good morning, Kennedy. Are we ready to see if the baby is going to play ball?"

I grin wide at Dr. Lansley. His dark brown eyes sparkle, his white hair neat. I was apprehensive about having a male OB, but he's amazing.

I nod and lay back on the bed, lifting my top as he gets the gel, squirting it on my stomach before grabbing the doppler and placing it over the gel.

"Okay, little one, let's see what you are," he murmurs, and I chuckle a little. I look at the screen, my baby in full view. I look at the head, the little arms and legs, before my eyes go to the chest, and I freeze.

You know the worst thing about being a nurse? It's being a nurse who sees a prenatal scan and sees no heartbeat.

"Dr Lansley…" I whisper, hoping my eyes are playing with me.

He mutters, "Fuck…." And my heart shatters.

Austen kisses my head as we approach my apartment building, bringing me out of my trauma, and I smile.

He tilts his head, smiling, and asks, "So when do I get to meet the parents then, if you're now willing to go away with me?"

Ah, yes, my parents. Shocker, I haven't heard anything from them, but that may have something to do with my changing my number. Alex has said Momma always looks angry, and he hasn't seen my dad, but that doesn't surprise me.

I feel free from them and the abuse, and the closet. That's the only good thing about me moving.

I'm free, but drowning in pain and trauma.

I squeeze his hand. "I'm, uh, I'm not close to my parents." He furrows his brows, but I smile. " My cousin Breaker, though, I think he'll like you."

He nods, knowing a little about the MC but not about Doc. He only knows that I loved a man, then lost him.

"So does this mean we're exclusive, then?" he asks with a sly smile, and I chuckle, shaking my head.

I reply, " Not yet. I'm just not ready…. Maybe after we get back?"

He grins but nods before bending down to kiss me, and I kiss him back—but nothing, no spark, no tingling, no butterfly flutters. Nothing.

He's not Doc….

He heats up the kiss, tangling his tongue with mine, making the taste bitter, but I ignore it, promising myself to give it a chance.

After a few minutes, he slows the kiss, then pulls back with a smile, and rasps, "I'll call you?"

I give him a nod and peck his lips again before heading inside, all while feeling dirty. As soon as I walk into my apartment, the silence hits me. The pain from my parents swishing around my head, the blood from the guy I buried, the look in Prue's eye when Doc confirmed he'd made her his old lady, that they were starting a family, and then the pain I felt seeing my baby—it's all drowning me, the pressure on my chest pulling me down.

"Push, darling. You've got this,littlecuz, push," Alex whispers in my ear as he holds up my leg.

I shake my head and sob, "I-I can't."

If I push, it means my baby really is gone.

I blink away the tears, ignoring the sight of the blood I always see on the floor, the leaves surrounding it, and head to the shower to wash the filth off.

"It's a girl," Dr. Lansley whispers as he places the baby on my chest, and I cry. Alex kisses my head, touching my little girl"s back.

"She's so small," I sob, wishing she would make a sound, open her eyes—something…but nothing.

She's so still….

She's dead.

I squeeze my eyes shut and put my face under the water, trying to drown my thoughts. I spent years being abused by my parents, heck, I was nearly raped because of my own mother. The man I've loved since I was a child chose someone else, yet saying goodbye to the baby I grew to love was what made me break. Being strong was no longer an option.

Alex grips my waist, and my legs weaken, my knees shaking as we watch the tiny coffin move into the cremation oven.

My daughter.

Slowly, I turn and place my back on the cold shower wall, the urge to call Doc hitting me hard. I slowly sink to the shower floor, putting my head back and letting the water wash over me.

I lie in bed, still wearing my black dress from the funeral, and grab my phone.

I need him.

I ignore the photo of me and my daughter, and go to my contacts. I press the green button on his name.

It rings five times before he answers.

"Pixie baby?"

He sounds tired, so tired.

"Pixie? Talk to me, baby, please…."

My tears fall before a gut-wrenching sob falls from my lips, my body shaking with the pain I feel.

"Kennedy, please baby, talk to me please," he pleads, but I keep crying; I can't speak.

"Pixie, please. Hearing you this upset and being unable to hold you, please, talk to me. I love you, Kennedy, please…."

Pain slices through me. Working with babies daily is hard; my daughter is always on my mind. I'm trying to continue with my life, but I'm struggling.

I need my Lucas, but he's not mine, he's hers. No matter how much he says he loves me, I don't believe him because he wouldn't be with her. He wouldn't have chosen her.

I blink, my fingers automatically going to my collarbone, gently running my fingers along the small pink and red roses on a branch beneath my daughter's name, the feeling of wanting to die hitting me hard once again.

I blink, my eyes looking at the pills in my hand.

Momma hates me.

Daddy hates me.

Doc….

I have nothing to live for, not after…my daughter, my beautiful daughter.

In my kitchen, my tears fall as I throw all the pills in my mouth, and then take a big drink of the water, before sliding down the counter, sitting on the floor, andwaiting for the pain to stop.

I can feel my heart racing, and I struggle to breathe, but I don't panic. I welcome the feeling. My front door opens and Alex walks in with a bag. His gaze lands on me, and panic etches his features.

"Kennedy, what did you do?" he cries, his voice sounding far away, and regret hits me.

I'm not alone; I have him and Noah.

Oh God, what did I do?

I blink as I sit on my bed, twirling my phone. Thankfully, Alex took me to a different hospital under a different name, otherwise, I wouldn't have my job right now. I was given a month off for my loss before I got back into it…with a lot of counseling sessions.

Alex and Aunt Shelly have been my rocks, but so has Doc, and he doesn't even realize it.

My tears fall, hating that I'm about to do this again, hating I've not told him about our daughter, but he's my everything.

I hold the phone to my ear as I lie down on my bed, and his voice hits my ears after four rings.

"Hey, my Pixie," he rasps, and I let out a sob, making him sigh. "Another bad day, huh? Maybe I need to say fuck it and come see you."

He won't. He knows it, and so do I. After all the hurt and pain I've been through, I need to do this.

He made his choice, so he's letting me make mine while still having this little bit of him.

I hear a rustle before he speaks, "Alright, Pixie, let me tell you a little story of when I fucked with a guy's car when he was supposed to take you out on a date…."