Only three days after having the DNA test done on the little boy, I held the envelope in my hand.
Janine was by my side in my office as I pulled out the sheet of paper that would either change my entire world or leave me free. “Before you read it, tell me what you’re hoping for, Mr. Forester.”
I’d been turning it over in my head ever since the bitch had stalked in and out of my office in less than five minutes, steamrollering my day and leaving my mouth close to hanging with her news.
“That he’s mine.”
It wasn’t that I wanted the responsibility of a kid. Far from it. But Cassandra had been such an obviously awful mother. And Braiden looked like such a nice kid. He deserved better. Way better.
With a nod, Janine placed her hand on my shoulder. “Then I’ll pray that way for you, sir.”
Closing my eyes, I finished pulling the paper out, then I opened it, wanting to surprise myself. “Ninety-nine percent.” I blinked and felt the strangest shifting in my newly-discovered heart. “He’s mine.”
We remained in silence for a long moment as I stared blankly at the page full of cryptic scientific info, with two bolder words standing out above everything:
Probability of Paternity: 99%
“I have a kid,” I whispered.
“Congratulations, daddy.” Janine squeezed my shoulder. “I know it’s not what you expected, but you’ll be a great father, Mr. Forester.”
Father. The fact that the word now applied to me didn’t feel even close to sinking in.
“Janine.” I cleared my throat and sat back. “Get my lawyer on the phone and let him know to proceed with the custody paperwork. I want it today, so I can take it to her when I pick up my … son.”
Son??
“Oh God. I’m a father …”
Janine touched my shoulder once again and started for the door. “I’ll get on that right away.”
After she left, I sat in dumb silence for who knows how long before I took out my cell and made the call.
“Finally,” she answered. “Well? What do you want?”
“I received the results—”
She didn’t bother to let me finish. “He’s your son.”
“Yes, he is.” I had to put my cell down on the desk and press the speaker button. My head was aching and spinning with the news. I was both happy and deathly afraid at the same time.
I don’t know one damn thing about kids.
“Then come get him.”
I’m a father. And she’s his mother! Jesus.
“Cassandra, aren’t you going to miss him at all?” I demanded. “How can you treat a kid that way? Any kid. Much less your own.”
“When will you be here?” she replied without answering. “I’ll have him ready to go.”
Shock had me numb inside. As if on auto-pilot, I moved forward with the horrible conversation, “My lawyer is drawing up papers you’ll need to sign. I want full custody. And I don’t want to wait through court proceedings to get it. Cassandra, you do realize you will never see your son again if you sign the papers, right? I’ll want to make a life for the boy. One without a mother who seems to hate him.”
“Yeah, whatever. Cry me a big old river. So hurry up and get your paper and I’ll sign it. I want to get rid of the burden your unprotected cock put on me.”
BITCH.
“Fine. I’ll be there just as soon as my lawyer tells me the documents are ready. Goodbye.” I ended the call, feeling as if I’d just had a conversation with the devil.
The intercom buzzed. “Brad Moore is here to see you.”
As protective as she was of me, Brad was likely one of the few men Janine would have patched through at this stage.
My head was still reeling as I leaned back in my chair. “Send him in, please.”
When my best friend opened the door to my office, he could tell immediately that something was wrong with me. “What the hell happened to you?”
I just shook my head, numb.
He made his way to my desk, taking the seat across from me. “You look like a Mack truck just ran over your dog or something. You don’t have a dog though, right?” The words weren’t coming to me. How in the hell do you tell someone this kind of news? Bluntly, apparently.
“I’m a father, Brad.”
His blue eyes went wide. His jaw dropped. He jumped up and slammed his palms on the desk, making a loud slapping noise. “The fuck you say!”
Yeah, he took it the way I thought he would.
“I have a two-year-old son. His name is Braiden Michael.” I got up and walked over to the minifridge to grab myself a bottle of something with alcohol in it. Picking out a bottle of beer, I tossed it to Brad then got myself one.
Brad just looked at his without opening it. “You know it’s like nine in the morning, right?”
Twisting the metal top off the bottle, I nodded. “And your point is?” I looked at him with no expression at all on my face.
With a shrug, he opened his bottle and took a swig. “So day-drinking it is, then.” He went back to sit in his chair, looking as if he was as lost in thought as I was. “Who’s the mother?”
“A redhead from a strip club who I don’t remember in the slightest. If DNA hadn’t confirmed the evidence, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“So, what?” he asked, taking a long pull of the cold brew. “She hitting you hard for custody and cash?”
“No, actually.”
I made my way to the sofa. I needed to lie down for a minute. Let my body catch up to my scattered mind. “I’m taking him.”
“What?” Brad spun around in the chair to face me as I plopped down on the overstuffed black leather. “You can’t just take him away from his mother, Gannon!”
Pressing my forehead to the cold beer, I shook my head. “She doesn’t want him. She was going to give the kid away if I didn’t take him.” I looked over at him.
Brad’s face went from stunned to horrified. “She what?”
“She’s a real bitch, Brad. Like the meanest woman I’ve ever met. And somehow, I don’t know how—I don’t know what got into me about three years ago—but I fucked her without using a condom, apparently.” More beer went down my throat as I tried to drown the anxieties that were bubbling up inside of me. “Brad, I need help. Like permanent help, dude.”
“Do you really not remember sleeping with this woman?”
“Not at all.” I jerked my head toward the paper on the desk. “But I had a DNA test done, and the boy is definitely mine.”
Brad walked over to the desk and picked up the paper, staring at it as he spoke. “Well, at least you did the smart thing and had that done, instead of taking this woman’s word for it. So what now?”
I took another chug, “As soon as my lawyer calls to let me know the documents I need are ready, I’ll go get him.” I closed my eyes. “Brad, what am I going to do? I don’t know the first thing about raising a kid. I don’t know how to take care of one. Like what do two-year-olds eat? Drink? Do? Can they bathe themselves? Can they dress themselves? Cause I don’t know how to do that for him.”
“You need a nanny, Gannon.”
“And fast,” I agreed. I put the bottle to my lips but found it was empty. “Fuck!”
Brad reached out, taking the bottle away from me. “Fathers don’t day drink. I don’t think they do, anyway. Not the first day they’re meeting their kid.”
“I met him already,” I informed him. “A few days back. She treated him like a dog toy. He was a really nice little boy, Brad. Quiet. Calm. Friendly. No tantrums or anything. But … he wasn’t my son, then. Oh, and he can’t talk, she says. Can’t two-year-olds, I don’t know, babble or something?”
He shrugged. “No idea, man. None whatsoever. But if you make me a promise, I think I can help you out.”
I cracked an eye and watched as he hauled up a chair and sat down beside me. “Yeah? How?”
“You have to mean what you promise me, Gannon. I’m dead serious about this. Lethally serious.”
“Anything.” I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck. “What do I have to promise?”
His light blond brows scrunched together. “You remember my baby sister?”
I knew of her in passing, even though we’d never met. “Yeah?
“She’s in her second year of college, majoring in early childhood development. She was just asking me about possible jobs she could take to pay bills and practice what she’s learning in theory, since the school won’t let them handle actual small humans yet. She’d jump at the chance to take care of this kid for you.”
My eyes popped. “Brad, that would be fantast—”
“Hold on there, Gannon.” He leaned in close, eyes flashing. “If I do this for you, I don’t want you to so much as lay one finger on Emily.”
I started to protest, and he cut me off. “Because if you do, then I’ll have to reach into your chest.” He pounded his fist on my chest just once. “And I will pull your beating heart out and feast on the fucking thing. You got me, bro?”
“Leave your little sister alone.” That would be more than easy. “Got it!”
“As long as you understand me, repeat these words, and we’ll have us a deal. Oh, and you have to pay her pretty well too. That’s a given, dude.” He thumped my chest once more.
“Chill on that shit, Brad. I can only take so much, bro. Tell me these magic words you want me to say to make you believe that I will never lay a finger on your little sister.”
“I, Gannon Forester, do solemnly swear never to flirt with, fondle, or otherwise sexually harass my best friend’s baby sister, the apple of his eye, and the sweetest and most innocent girl on the planet.”
Who is this chick?
All I could do was nod as I recited his words, sealing our deal and getting me the babysitter I needed. “And can she move in with us too? I’ll need her twenty-four-seven.”
“I’ll check with her, but I’m guessing that’ll be fine. Fewer bills for her to pay.”
I almost sagged with relief. I now had a kid and a babysitter to go with said kid. Things might just turn out okay after all.