No Chance by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 41: BRETT

“What’s up your ass?” Tommy asks me.

I just jumped off a bridge to my untimely demise.

We’re on our way to Tulsa, and it’s just the two of us on our bus—just the way he wanted it. Just the way we both wanted it.

And now...

Fuck. It just feels like something’s missing because something is missing.

But it’s better this way.

We’re playing some shit on Xbox and I don’t even care if I win or lose, which is only serving to piss Tommy off.

“You need some pussy or something?”

I shrug as I toss my controller on the couch beside me. I’ve had the shot at some practically every night for the last few weeks, but I can’t seem to bring myself to partake in the spoils of our riches when I can’t get Hannah out of my mind.

I want to be with her, but I can’t. I’ve already hurt her and we didn’t even get this thing off the ground.

“Dude, it’s time to move on,” he says, correctly concluding that it’s this whole situation with Hannah that’s up my ass. “We both know there’s no chance it’ll work out.” He pauses then chuckles. “Ha. See what I did there? No Chance.”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” My voice holds a clear warning. Bringing up the kid right now isn’t going to help this situation, but that’s the thing about Tommy. He doesn’t care. He’ll pick and pull at shit just to get a rise out of people, but usually I’m not his target.

Today, though...I guess I am.

“You think you can make it work? Remember who you are, dude. Remember who you were, anyway, just a few weeks ago. Then some chick comes along and suddenly you’re a new man?” He shakes his head. “I don’t buy it.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t know...I guess things just sort of changed overnight when I found out I had a kid. Don’t you think it would affect you if you found that out?”

He laughs. “Bitches tell me that shit all the time. You think even once it’s affected me?”

“Because they’re after your money. But what if you took a test and found out it was true? Wouldn’t you want to do the right thing?”

He raises a brow as his eyes darken, but then he laughs. “Why? You hear something from someone?”

I shake my head with a little bit of disgust. “You’re missing the point. Take it seriously.”

“You know I don’t take anything seriously unless it has to do with money or the band.” He glances back up at the game and eventually turns it off.

“I know,” I mutter. “And you know what? That’s a really shit attitude to go through life with.”

“All right,” he says casually, leaning back against the couch across from me and tossing both his arms casually across the back. “I’ll play. So let’s say I knocked some bitch up with my superhuman seed.” He shrugs. “It was one night, obviously, since homie don’t play more than that, and the rules and intentions were clear from the start that one night was all it would ever be. I cover my bases because I don’t want kids.”

“So you’re really saying that if you did have a kid out there, you wouldn’t do anything about it?” I press.

“It’s not like that kid would’ve been created out of love or out of some intrinsic need to be with the other person. It was created by accident, and what kind of life could I give him or her anyway?”

“Tyler and Dustin seem to be doing just fine,” I point out.

“Because Tyler and Dustin grew up in normal, functioning families and want that life,” he says, drawing one arm away from the back of the couch to rub the back of his neck, and I can’t help but think this whole conversation is making him uncomfortable. “It’s not for everybody. Look, man. You and me are cut from the same cloth. We’re not like Tyler and Dustin, you know? We’re better off this way.”

“You know, high school health teachers would tell you to be abstinent then,” I say. “If you really think it’s not for everybody.”

He laughs. “I fucked my high school health teacher, so what’s your point?”

“If you don’t want kids, don’t risk putting one in somebody.” I shrug.

“You followed that rule, too, didn’t you?” he asks.

I press my lips together. “No, and look where I ended up. Now I don’t know what to do.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Stand up and be a father?” He says the second part sarcastically.

“I don’t know,” I lie, and I’m not sure why I’m lying to my best friend about this. It seems like the type of conversation we should be able to have, yet I don’t want to have it. I don’t want him to know the truth. I don’t want him to know that he’s right. I don’t want to see him gloat when I tell him my decision because there’s nothing to gloat about.

I know what I need to do.

I love that kid, and I love the woman who’s suddenly responsible for raising him.

They’re both better off without me.

My father taught me that your best is never good enough. That just tells me that even if I try my hardest to be a good father to Chance and to be the man Hannah deserves, I’ll never be good enough. They both deserve more, and they always will.

I’ll give them a stable future—both of them. But I think what would really provide a stable future is to give them one without me in it.

I want Hannah to have the chance to move forward with her life, to study social work if that’s what she wants or to take pictures of flowers if that’s what she wants. I want her to fall in love with somebody who will be a wonderful father to my son. And I want her to do it all wherever she wants to do it.

I’ll get her out of that shithole she lived in in Phoenix and buy her whatever house she wants. I’ll make sure they both have the means to live comfortable lives. But my only answer here is to drop them off in Phoenix after this tour ends.

I’m in no position to care for Chance myself even though I’m his legal guardian, and I’m also not in a position to invite them to move in with me at my place in Los Angeles.

So I’ll figure out what paperwork I need to sign over full custody to Hannah...if she wants it, that is. If she doesn’t, I guess that will throw a wrench into my plans but I’ll cross that bridge if I need to.

She’ll want it. She won’t let him go to the courts, and that’s why I know she’s the right choice. I see how she is with that little boy, and if there’s anybody equipped to raise my child, it’s definitely her. She loves him like he’s her own, and they’ll have each other to rely on for the rest of time once I file the paperwork to make it so.

We have a little over two weeks left on this tour, and I’ll do what I can to stay out of her way with the time that remains.

My phone rings, and I see it’s Danielle calling me.

“What?” I answer, ever the gentleman.

“Listen, you asshole, that sweet girl saved your ass. Do you even realize that?”

My brows dip. “How?”

“She saw the photos that were released and she was able to easily see how they were photoshopped. It’s all over the gossip sites now, and somehow you’re coming out looking like some hero even though you were probably high on cocaine that night.”

“I was,” I admit. “How am I looking like a hero?”

“Because somebody got wind of Chance and they’ve turned the story into how this former bad boy has reformed into a father who’s taking care of his kid and the only living relative the kid has left. They’re on a witch hunt for the crazy woman who photoshopped this image of you.”

“How’d they get wind of Chance?” I ask softly.

“Our circle’s not that small,” she says. “It was bound to hit the media. My guess is one of the workers at one of the venues we’ve stopped at over the last few weeks.”

Of course. Someone somewhere found out and probably got a nice payday by giving the story to the media.

I wish I could protect him from the circus that’s my life. Her, too. And that’s just further evidence that I’ve made the right decision.