She wouldn’t.
Forcing myself to pick my phone up, I dial Dove’s number and press it to my ear.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey. It’s me,” I breathe out. The barstool’s legs scrape against the hardwood floor as I pull it out from beneath the kitchen island and collapse onto it.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Hey, Mads,” Dove returns. “What’s up?”
“Are you alone?”
She pauses slightly. “Yes? What’s going on, Maddie?”
With my head in my hand, I choke out, “Did you tell Marty?”
“What?”
“Did you tell Marty about Peanut?”
“What? Of course not!”
“How would he know?”
“About Peanut?” she clarifies. I can hear the confusion in her voice.
“Yeah. He texted me. How did he get my number, Dove? How did he know about the baby or how to reach me? Tell me––”
“I don’t know!”
“You were the only one who did know,” I return, my tone rising with my heart rate.
“Maddie, you need to calm down. I promise I didn’t say anything.”
“So, how does he know?” I scream, the room starting to spin.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening.
“Calm down,” she returns. “Let me think for a second.”
Unable to keep still, I push myself to my feet and pace the kitchen, shoving my fingers through my hair before dragging them down my face. I feel like I’m suffocating. Like I can’t breathe. Like all the oxygen has been sucked out of my body, and I’m going to pass out any second.
If Marty knows about Peanut, he’ll use her against me. He’ll tell Milo. Hell, he might even tell Jos about Milo’s arrest to be an ass. He could ruin everything. He will ruin everything. I know it.
“Crap,” Dove whispers, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts.
My heels dig into the ground, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “What is it?”
“The texts…”
“What texts?”
“Do you remember the night I came home from touring with Broken Vows? When I found out about you and Gibbs?”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Yeah?”
“Marty got ahold of Gibson’s phone and forwarded screenshots of your conversation with Gibson about you being pregnant to me. Which is how I found out and when he must’ve gotten your new number.”
“Along with finding out I was having a baby,” I breathe out, the pieces falling into place. “He knows.”
“I’m sorry, Mads,” Dove apologizes.
“But why now?” I choke out.
It doesn’t make any sense.
“Why would he care now?” I repeat. “It’s been…forever, hasn’t it? A month? Maybe two? Why would he wait to reach out?”
Dove’s silence rings louder than a damn fire alarm, making the hair on my arms stand on end as I realize the truth. “You’re hiding something.”
Another beat of silence greets me.
Her soft voice eventually crackles through the speaker again. “Do you know who Marty’s dad is?”
“Donny Hayes,” I answer. “The famous rockstar. Everyone knows.”
“Yeah, well, apparently, he cut Marty off.”
“What? Why?”
Silence.
“What are you hiding from me, Dove?” I demand. “And how the hell do you know he cut Marty off?”
“Look, it’s not my secret to tell. Let’s just say I heard it through the grapevine. Marty did something to upset his dad, who told Marty if he didn’t clean up his act, he’d freeze Marty’s bank account. Marty threw a fit, and low and behold, he’s dealing with the consequences.”
“S-so you’re saying he’s desperate,” I conclude, my blood running cold. “And desperate people are volatile. He could do anything.”
“Mads––”
“Does he know where I am?” I ask.
“You hadn’t moved in with Milo when Marty had Gibson’s phone, so I don’t know how it’s possible.”
“You’re sure?”
“I think so? But honestly, Maddie, I’m as lost as you are. Let me see if I can do a little digging around to see if I can find anything else out. But as you probably know, Gibson isn’t exactly a fan of Marty’s because of what he did to Fender. And since Fender’s been in rehab, he hasn’t exactly been in contact with Marty either, ya know? Marty was probably only trying to spook you.”
“Well, it worked,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m freaking out, Dove.”
“I don’t blame you. Why don’t you change your phone number again or something to make sure he can’t reach you? We’ll play it by ear. Okay?”
“O-okay,” I stutter, still reeling.
“Go take a shower,” Dove orders. “Clear your head. Remember to breathe and not to freak out. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re right,” I murmur, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. “You’re totally right. It’ll be fine.”
“Yes, it will.” A muffled voice says something to Dove, though I can’t make out what. She yells, “Be right there! I gotta go, Mads. I love you. We’ll talk soon.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out. “Love you too.”
My arm drops down to my side as I stare at the half-eaten peanut butter sandwich in front of me. I’m not hungry anymore. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stomach anything for the rest of the day. I feel like the room is spinning. Like my entire world is seconds from detonating, and it’s Marty’s thumb on the trigger.
My numb legs carry me to the second floor, and I pause at my bedroom door and listen for Peanut. She’s quiet, but I push open the door and bring her into the bathroom with me, anyway.
Dove’s right.
I need to shower.
I need to wash away my fear. My anxiety. And the swirling sense of dread haunting me since the moment my phone vibrated downstairs.
Once Penny’s tucked in her bouncer, still sound asleep, I strip naked. Turning the water to its highest heat, I let the scalding liquid do its job, washing away every moment I ever spent with Marty. When I let him touch me. When I let him control me. When I let him think he had any kind of power over me.
But the truth is simple.
He did have power over me. Because he had the ability to end Milo’s career, and it was all my fault.
I make it five minutes before Penny fusses, her little body fighting against the blanket swaddling her.
Lovely.
Picking up my pace, I squeeze shampoo into the palm of my hand and scrub it through my hair as Peanut’s wails grow louder.
“I’m hurrying,” I promise her, rinsing the suds from my scalp.
Face red, she arches her back and screams at the top of her lungs as I grab the conditioner and squirt a quarter-sized dollop into my hand, running it through my hair. Her wails grow sharper with each passing second. They’re so loud, I can barely think straight, let alone disperse the creamy hair product through my ends properly. When my fingers catch on a snarl, I grimace and look down at Penny, her face scrunched in anguish.