The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 1. How Could I Not?

Hayden's POV

For hours doctors and nurses poked and prodded me. They ran tests and asked me strange questions as if I was stupid or didn't know who I was.

"Look, I know why I'm here, okay? There is nothing wrong with me. I got hit by a car saving my—" I stopped and pursed my lips. She isn't my daughter—I thought to myself. "My girlfriend's daughter. I just want to see Stormy and Abigail. Stormy is okay, right?"

"Hayden, we don't know anything about Stormy, but we had to direct Abigail to leave until we could finish up these tests. We're nearly done," the nurse said.

My head lolled back against the pillow, and I stared up at the ceiling. The last thing I could recall is the car hitting me. I threw Stormy. I panicked, and I didn't know what else to do. I knew that the car was going to hit us. There wasn't time for me to get us both out of the way. Throwing Stormy to the side was a knee-jerk reaction. I had no time to think about what I was doing, and I wasn't even a hundred percent sure she was okay. What if she broke an arm or leg? I was faintly aware that Abigail was near the sidewalk, and I threw Stormy in that direction. I hoped that when I threw her, she didn't get injured.

I spent hours, days, months around Abigail and Stormy. As the doctors continued to poke around at me, I thought back to when I first saw Stormy and Abigail in the coffee shop. When Abigail bumped into me and accidentally spilled the coffee, I thought for sure it was intentional. But Abigail looked panicked and apologized immediately, and then I saw the little girl with her who looked frightened. I remember that I didn't want to scare the little girl. I was tired of being the bad guy, the guy that everyone in Jacksonville feared.

The two of them were at the park one day when I stopped and talked to Abigail, and again the same strange feeling washed over me. I never went out of my way to talk with anyone like I did Abigail. A lot of guys don't like getting with a girl that already has a kid. They refer to it as baggage, but I loved Stormy. How could I not? She is exactly like her mother, and her mother is beautiful, sweet, and funny. . .

It wasn't until I saw Stormy in the busy street on her tricycle that I realized how much I loved her. I spent time with Stormy. I taught her things she didn't know. I grew protective of her. When I got scared of losing Abigail, I got scared of losing Stormy too, and that fear hadn't vanished.

The doctors and nurses faded away, apart from one nurse. She smiled as she took down my vitals.

"My name is Tara, in case you forgot. Do you need anything?" she asked politely.

"I want Abigail," I whispered. "I need to know that Stormy is okay."

"I know Abigail, but Stormy is?"

I sighed. "Abigail's little girl."

"Oh, right. Your daughter. You're a brave dad."

"I'm—" I stopped myself. I wanted to say I'm not her dad. But somehow, I couldn't seem to say the words. I'm not brave. I'm anything but that. "Please find them."

"Last I knew, they called Abigail. Abigail has been here every night. I'm sure she'll be here soon. She leaves from time to time to check on Stormy, I believe. She has a cute name, by the way," Tara said. Tara turned and left the room.

I stared down at my hands as panic flooded me. It overtook me like a giant wave. I hated the feeling. I needed to see them. I had to know they were okay and that my attempt to save Stormy wasn't wasted.