Chapter Fifty Six

Aspen


"What the fuck?" Lincoln snaps, glaring across the room at his brother, shaking his head. "Of course, the baby is mine!" But even as he says the words, his face betrays his unspoken thoughts, thoughts that say that perhaps he isn't so sure if the baby is his after all.
There's doubt there and it breaks my heart for both Lincoln and Raleigh.
With having Boston's fidelity having been in question not too long ago, and then add on top of it my own pregnancy, it all causes their situation to hit incredibly too close to home.
I glance over at Boston and find him with his eyes locked on me—not his brother who seems to be struggling with Raleigh's news. Instead, he seems to be watching me, most likely to make sure that I'm okay, considering that I've only just come to terms with and been able to begin trying to move on from the baby that we would have had together, had I not lost it.
I give him a small smile, hoping that it assuages him. I can't deny that knowing that Raleigh is pregnant hurts when my own loss is still painful to think about. But, I'm also happy, yet afraid for them.
"Lincoln, of course, that baby is yours," I tell him softly, but the room is quiet enough that the other three no doubt heard me. But it's the looks on their faces that give me pause, making me question that declaration. "Right?"
"How would you know?" Jackson asks, his voice carrying an edge to it that gets my hackles up. "You certainly haven't been around."
*And there it is. His anger at my needing time to heal and recover from the loss that I'd suffered.*
Taking in the hurt on the faces of Jackson, Dallas and Lincoln, I realize that Boston isn't the only person that I hurt by putting distance between us. I hurt each of these guys surrounding me.
"I'm sorry. I needed time for myself, to grieve. But I realize now that even though I still spoke with Boston, I was a horrible sister, a horrible friend. To all of you."
"It's okay," Lincoln tells me, squeezing the hand still clasped within his. "You had to do what you needed to do for you. I understand." His voice is soft, and his eyes show his sincerity, which causes tears to begin building within my own eyes once more. "You're back now, that's what matters." He says this louder, turning his attention to the two boys sitting across the room.
I watch Dallas nod, but he doesn't say anything. Jackson just glares at the two of us, his jaw clenched, shoulders tense as he breathes heavily, his eyes convey his anger—their normally sky blue color darkened to that of a raging sea in the midst of a thunderstorm.
*He is mad, livid, with me and I completely understand, can't even blame him, if I'm being honest.*
I guess I hadn't realized that he'd cared enough to even be hurt by my absence.
Only Boston and Lincoln ever really made much of an effort, but then, they do seem to be the more outgoing ones out of the four brothers.
I hope my face conveys just how sorry I truly am, because words are useless. My actions, or lack thereof, over the last three months said more than my words can even begin to make up for.
But I vow to do better, to be better, moving forward, to the four of them and to myself.
Jackson just shakes his head and throws himself back against his chair, crossing his arms, his brow furrowed in anger.
Clearing my throat, I turn my attention to the guy next to me, "Why wouldn't the baby be yours?"
He sighs heavily, burying his face in his hands for a moment before answering me. Then, after a moment he says, "We think she was taken by a guy named Brady Stevens. He's obsessed with her and thinks that he has some kind of claim to her because her father owed a debt and Brady's dad paid it off. When Raleigh's dad couldn't pay Brady's dad back, they made a contract basically selling Raleigh to Brady as payment. But, the contract became null and void upon their death but Brady and his parents don't want to honor it."
"What the fuck?" I whisper, eyes wide with shock as I look back and forth from Lincoln to Boston and then back again, unable to believe what Lincoln just said.
"It's true," Boston agrees, blowing my mind.
"That's awful," I mutter, trying to wrap my mind around everything Lincoln's just told me. After a few minutes I say, "So, you think that this Brady person, that the baby could be his?"
"I don't want it to be true, but it's always a possibility. She was with him for nearly a month and a half..."
"He's forced himself on her before," Boston says, interrupting Lincoln. "I wouldn't put it past him to force himself on her again."
"You have to talk to her, you know that, right?" I ask, turning my attention to Lincoln. "If you care about her at all, you two need to talk to each other, you need to figure out exactly what happened and you need to work this out."
Releasing a sigh, he nods and then wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. It's only then that I realize that his entire body is shaking, betraying the calm facade that he's trying to put off.
*He's freaking terrified,* I think to myself, my chest aching for the both of them.
"Thank you." He whispers against the top of my head before pulling back, moving to stand. Reaching out, I grasp his hand once more before he can step away.
"We're here if you need us. Just *talk* to her and try to stay calm, her emotions are likely all over the place right now. But she's going to need you just as much as you will need her."
Nodding, his hand slips from mine and he leaves. Dallas and Jackson get up and follow behind him.
I'm afraid they're going to hold him up but release the breath that I hadn't even realized that I'd been holding when I hear the front door open and then close, as well as two sets of footsteps climbing the stairs.
"You okay?" Boston asks, sliding into Lincoln's previously vacated spot, pulling me into his chest.
"Yeah," I tell him honestly, relaxing into his warmth, "Jackson hates me." I say with a sad sigh.
"He's mad," he tells me, rubbing his hand up and down my arm, which gives me goosebumps, "he'll get over it."
"Why didn't you tell me that my leaving hurt all of you so much?" I ask softly, not wanting him to feel like I'm blaming him.
I feel him stiffen slightly beneath me momentarily, but then he relaxes and releases a sigh of his own.
"I didn't know," he replies, "when you left, I was a mess, Babe—"
"Boston—" I start to say, cutting him off, but instead he cuts me off, stopping me from continuing.
"You left because it was what you needed, and I understand why you did," he's quick to say when I turn to defend myself and my actions, "But you leaving, it broke me. You needed space, but *I* needed *you.*"
"And those three," he says after a few moments of silence, "they took the brunt of my hurt and anger, while also apparently battling their own. We fought, in ways that we have *never* fought before. I was angry, needing to release the hurt. At times I'd provoke only one of them. Other times, I'd fight all three of them. I threw myself into school, football, and the gym-working out as often as my body could handle."
"Sometimes, even that wasn't enough. I got into fights at school—was even threatened with expulsion—risked my football career—and I didn't fucking care. Nothing I did was enough to ease the ache, the broken feeling in my chest."
"Fuck, Boston!" I say, full on crying now, not realizing the magnitude of what my leaving had done to him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You needed time," he says, shrugging as if it was that simple, "You did what you needed to do in order to cope, and so did I."
"But, Bos—"
"Stop!" He says, smashing his lips against mine to shut me up, "I'd do it all again if it brought you back to me."
"But the others..." I say, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I shake my head, my regret growing as his words replay in my head, unable to look at him any longer.
"They will be okay. *They* just need time now." He tells me, cupping my cheek in his hand and lifting my face for me to look at him.
*God, I've screwed up so damn much in trying to take care of myself,* I think, to myself, tears building in my eyes once more.
"I can practically hear your thoughts," Boston tells me, chuckling. "It's okay. You're here now. I have you back and I'm not letting you go again."
"I don't deserve you," I tell him, dropping my forehead to his chest.
"No, you deserve so much more."