by Anna Brooks
I’ve been thinking about tomorrow and have decided that she deserves to know that the lawyer coming over here to her house is my dad. It wouldn’t be fair to her to be hit with it, and I really don’t want to do anything that could upset her further.
I run my fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead.
“The lawyer coming tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s my dad.”
She pushes up and opens her mouth, before closing it again. “But . . . what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She gets off the couch and paces, twisting her hands in front of her body. “This is great. Just fucking great. I meet my boyfriend’s father in the middle of a custody battle. ‘Hey,’” she mocks, sticking out her hand for a handshake. “‘I’m Courtney, your son’s girlfriend. Can you please prove to the courts that I’m not a whore so they don’t take my son from me?’”
I try not to smile when she calls me her boyfriend. I’ve never felt pride like I do right now over a stupid word.
“Hey.” I stand and grab her hands to give a little tug so she looks at me. “Sit down, there’s so much more to it.”
She sits in the center of the tattered blue couch, and I sit opposite her on the coffee table.
“First, my dad, Jerome, is a great fucking lawyer. You may have heard of him?” His law firm does some really big cases, and he’s been on the news hundreds of times. “Jerome Monroe?”
“It sounds familiar.”
“He was just on the news last week for getting that guy off who shot a cop.”
Her eyes light up, and she nods. “Oh, him. Yeah, I heard about that. That’s your dad?”
“Yeah. But I hate him.”
“Oh . . .”
“He was a horrible father. And as soon as I could, I moved in here, next to my grandparents and haven’t spoken to him since. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’ll tell you this. He is a horrible person. He’s selfish, condescending, a liar, manipulative, and cruel. But he’s an excellent lawyer.” I wait until that sinks in before saying anything else.
“Why haven’t you talked to him in so long?”
“Honestly, I’d rather not get into it. I’ll just say he did something unforgivable.”
Her face softens, and she reaches for my hands. “But you talked to him about me?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
I lean forward and rest my forehead against hers. “All I want you to say is that you’ll give me another chance.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” She smiles and wraps her hands around my head, pulling me toward her until our mouths meet. She grips me harder, and when her nails dig into my flesh, I pull my hands away and slide them up her sides until my thumbs graze the side of her tits.
I move from the table and slowly crawl up her body. She moans into my mouth and presses herself against me. Every soft curve. On their own, my hips rock into her, craving her, missing the way she makes me feel. Always so perfect. Her heat surrounds me and I can’t get enough of her mouth. Kissing has never turned me on so much in my life. I could kiss her for hours—the way her tongue glides across mine, and how she pulls back to bite on my lip is so fucking hot.
I growl into her mouth and wish there weren’t jeans separating us right now. She wraps her legs around me, and we both rock into each other at a furious pace. Her mouth devours mine and her nails dig into my back. Each movement gets faster and harder until she pulls back and gasps as her orgasm rips through her. Somehow, she becomes even hotter.
I slow down, and eventually stand. I’ll have blue balls, but I don’t fucking care. She needs to know I’m not here for sex. I’ll get her off as many times as she wants, but I won’t fuck her yet, not until this custody battle is over. I want to know she’s with me for me, and not the stress of everything pushing her.
“I want more than anything to fuck you right now.” I grab my crotch and internally groan when her hungry eyes follow my hand to my rock hard dick. “I’m always hard for you, always ready to go. But part of me proving that I’m here for you is making this about more than sex.” I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up to look me in the eyes. “Even though it pains me, it physically hurts me, I’m walking away right now.” I lean over and give her a quick but hard kiss. “Lock the door behind me, and use the deadbolt and the chain. I need to know I can’t walk back in here and take you.”
* * *
“Dude, what’s wrong with you today?” Nate asks from the passenger seat.
We just left our first job of the day and are on our way to the second. I canceled my afternoon appointments so I could be with Courtney this afternoon.
“Nothing, why?”
“You’re staring off into space like a love-sick teenager.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “I am not.”
“Dude,” he rubs his arm, “you are, too. What gives?”
“Nothing.”
He starts to answer, but his phone rings, so he holds up his finger while answering. “Hi, baby.” His face pales, and he looks at me with wide eyes. “Okay. Okay, I’m on my way. Just relax, baby. Everything will be fine. We’re driving right now; I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He holds the phone away from his face so only I can hear. “Janie’s in labor. I need to go to the hospital.”
He rattles off the directions, and I speed as safe as I can. He talks to his wife like nobody is listening—offering her words of encouragement and squeezing his hand into a fist when she has a contraction. Her voice screams through the speaker and his face scrunches at her pain. “Baby, it’s okay. Please, don’t cry. I won’t miss it. I’m almost there.” He glances at me, and I nod, accelerating.
We arrive at the hospital, and I drop him off at the entrance so he can run in. I’m only in the waiting room for about a half hour when he walks out with a relieved and utterly happy look on his face. “It’s a girl. I have a daughter.”
I stand and shake his hand, but he pulls me in for a hug. I slap his back and his eyes are wet when I pull away. “Man,” he wipes them with the back of his hand, “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was beautiful. Christ.”
“Congratulations.”
“Nathan! Do I have a grandson or a granddaughter?” I recognize his parents as they rush in, followed by some other people I don’t know but can only assume are his family. They all hug and cry as I step away.
I fall into a chair when it hits me. They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. But I disagree because I just saw Courtney and Ben’s faces. I saw a future, a life, a family. I think your life flashes before you when you finally decide to live.
14
Courtney
I’M HOME BY ELEVEN fifteen and stumble on the curb when I see a man standing on my porch. He’s tall, got a slightly rounded belly, salt and pepper hair, and dressed in an expensive suit. I close my car door, and when his eyes meet mine, the air leaves my lungs. If Sam hadn’t told me last night that this man was his father, I would have known by looking at him. Same jawline and sharp cheekbones.
“Courtney Gallagher?”
“Yes. Hi.” I meet him at the top of the steps, and even though his eyes are the same blue-tinted color of his son’s, there’s a coldness to them that I hope to never see in Sam.
“Jerome Monroe.” He extends his hand, and I take it in mine then quickly pull it away. I don’t know what he did, but if he hurt Sam, it makes me uncomfortable to be touched by him.
“Am I late?” I ask. I’m not. He said noon yesterday.
“No, I’m a little early. Care to take this inside?” He grabs his black leather briefcase and nods to the door.
I wish Sam were here right now. I’m nervous because Jerome holds my future, and the future of my child, in his hands. But more than that, I don’t know him, and we’ll be in my house alone. I see men like him at X all the time. The creepy kind who think because they’re rich, women owe them something.
“Sure.”
I unlock the door and step inside. When he slides past me, I close it and leave the lock unlocked.
“Let’s go to the kitchen table.”
He follows me and sits down, looking down his nose at my living space. I grab the folders containing all the papers I had gathered and join him.
“These are all copies of my bills and pay stubs. And any financial papers I thought might be useful.” I slide them in his direction. “And these are medical papers. Benjamin’s birth certificate, doctor’s notes, and stuff.”
He takes the other folder and shuffles through them without saying a word.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“No,” he answers briskly.
Okay, then.
“So, what do you think I-”
“I think this case won’t even make it to court. I did some digging this morning and have a card up my sleeve, if you will.” His eyes glimmer with evil.
“Oh.” Without acting too excited, I continue, “What do you mean?”
He pushes the papers away and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Dirt. That’s all this is about. Matt married into money and power. His new family will do anything to make themselves look good, no matter who gets hurt in the process.” Smiling smugly, he laughs. “Luckily for you, I care even less. So, when I called around to Melissa’s ex’s, I was happily rewarded with a disgruntled one. That’s Matt’s new wife, in case you were wondering. It really is amazing what people will tell you for some cash.”
“Okay,” I drag out. I’m not a vindictive person, so I have no clue where he’s going with this.
He sits back and crosses his arms, blatantly staring at my chest, even though I’m in my hunter green work polo. “You sure are a looker. It’s no wonder Sammy is so . . . smitten with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me. Are you just as smitten with him?”
What in the hell? “Sam and I are dating, so yes, I’m smitten.” I don’t even know if we are officially dating, but I’m going with it.
“Hmm.” He rubs his chin. “He was smitten with Isabella, too. She was easy to bribe, though. Money hungry. Desperate to get her family out of a bad situation. Much like yourself.”
My stomach starts to turn at the hostility in his voice, and my mind immediately spins. Is he trying to bribe me?
“Did he tell you about his mother?” His voice raises an octave in the end, and if it weren’t for the sneer on his face, I would think he was happy about what he’s going to say.
“No.” My mouth is dry, but I manage to get the word out.
“She was a beauty. Green eyes like yours. Infectious laughter. Did my Sammy boy tell you how he killed her?”
I gasp and cover my chest that has suddenly become tight. Sam is not a murderer. I don’t believe him.
“Yeah, he likes to leave that tidbit out. I suppose that’s what everything boils down to. Revenge, vengeance.” He stands and walks to the window with his hands tucked in his pockets. “We had big plans, my Stella and me. But an unexpected pregnancy ruined that. Samuel ruined that,” he spits. “I tried to be excited about the pregnancy, but I knew my wife, and I knew this child would become her whole world. I was jealous of the little shit before he was even born.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I whisper, wishing I was somewhere else right now, or at least that Sam was here.
He shrugs and turns to look at me, eyes colder than before. “She died giving birth to him. He killed her.”
The pounding under my ribs echoes in my head, and I struggle to move, to get out of here. I can only stare at him in shock.
“Anyway, I’m sure I could have done better as a father. He was just . . . always in my way. Pretty useful for some functions, though. He did help me play the grieving widower card when I needed to.” He looks over his shoulder at me before continuing. “I was overjoyed when he turned eighteen and moved out. Fucking relieved I didn’t have to look at his face every day and be reminded of what he took from me. When he started dating Izzy? Well, let’s just say I was handed an opportunity to get that sweet revenge I’d been craving for years.”
“But he was a child, a baby.”
“He was a mistake!” he yells.
I flinch at his tone, and he briskly walks to the table and puts a hand on my shoulder. My muscles tighten, and I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from screaming.
“Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He releases me and returns to his seat. “Like I was saying. Izzy. Her brother was in deep with some drug dealers. Almost fifty thousand dollars. It wasn’t hard to pay her off. Make her family’s troubles go away. All I asked in return was to break my little Sammy’s heart. Let him feel a tenth of the pain he caused me.” He chuckles, and I cringe even further. “It was the day before his birthday. He was going to be twenty-three. It was dumb luck that he decided to go to the house that day. He found the picture of me watching his fiancée give head to the drug dealer her brother owed. That was my blackmail for her, but yet again, he ruined my plans.”
I gag, and he scrunches his eyebrows together.
“I’m sorry. Is that too vulgar?” He waves his meaty fingers and continues. “The point to this is that I already got my revenge on him. I still despise him for what he did to my Stella. But . . . It’s been eight years, and I’ve had time to . . . reflect on my choices.”
He closes his briefcase and runs his hand along the leather stitching in contemplation. The scrape of his chair startles my already tense body. Out of the corner of my eye, he walks to the wall and takes a picture off before returning.
“This your boy?”
“Yes.” It’s a picture of Ben at the park. I was lucky enough to get an amazing shot when he was coming down the slide. He’s laughing and looking directly at the camera, sun shining behind him, green eyes bright and happy, light brown hair blowing in the wind.
“He looks like you.”
“Thanks.” I have to fight the urge to rip the picture of my precious boy out of his hands.
“Stella would want her boy to be happy. I’ve kept tabs on him over the past decade. Any idea the number of women he’s brought home?”
I push away from the table, ready to run to my car because this is disgusting. My brain can’t process what he’s saying, and I feel sick.
“Sit,” he commands. “If you want me to help you keep your son, you will sit down. And listen to me.”
I swallow the bile in my throat and press my butt back into the chair, gripping the seat for support.
“The women. There have been a lot. But there’s something different about you. And to make amends for what I’ve done in the past, to clear my slate and my conscience, I’ll help you. But this is it. You make sure to tell him that I never want to see his face again. I don’t forgive him, and I’ll never forget. But for Stella, for her son, I’ll give him this. Do you understand?”
Not able to form a sentence, I nod.
“Good. Back to the matter at hand. It seems Matt’s new wife had a little problem a few years back. You see, her ex was eager to give me all the details of her pregnancy.”
He stares at me, and I stare back, stuck in a twilight zone.
“Ahh, I should explain a little further. You see. The baby was not her ex’s. And it was obvious at birth. Turns out, it was our good old Governor Gibson’s bastard child.” He laughs, actually laughs, before continuing. “Now the kicker to this all, the beauty that makes everything come together, is that her father is on Gibson’s payroll. Of course, they did a quick and dirty adoption. The kid’s probably better off anyway without her as a mother, vile woman.”
“Oh, my God.” I’ve finally caught up with what he’s saying and feel even sicker for being a part of this.
“Now, all it took was a quick meeting with good ole Denton before I came here to give him a history lesson . . . err, refresher. Unless he wants it all over the news that he helped cover up the infidelity and back door adoption of t
he governor’s illegitimate child, he’s going to drop the case against you.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, but quickly suck it back in, waiting for him to throw more shit at me.
“Ironic, isn’t it? The way this all played out.” He leaves my papers on the table and stands with his briefcase. “I shouldn’t need anything else. I’ll have my assistant come over with some papers for you to sign. This should all be over by the end of the week.”
“Thank you?”
Another laugh and he pats my hand. “Oh, the pleasure was mine, dear. You see, not only is my conscience clear, but this information puts me at a huge advantage against Denton. I never liked the bastard.”
He walks out, and when the front door slams, I jump, lay my head on the table, and shake with nerves, relief, and fear.
Moments later, there is a knock on the front door, but I can’t move. Another knock and the knob turns. My head is still on the table, cheek flush with the wood, and Sam’s body comes into view.
“Court?”
I can’t answer, but follow him as he gets closer.
“You okay?” He kneels down, and his eyes meet mine. I sit back so fast, I fall off the chair, and he’s at my side in an instant. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
He leans me against the wall and feels my forehead. I can’t stop staring at his warm eyes. It’s startling how much they look like his father’s, yet I know Sam is nothing like Jerome.
I have to tell him what happened. Everything makes so much more sense now. I understand Sam. I feel for him, growing up with that man as a father. I wish I had the strength to pull him into my arms and comfort him for all the pain he went through.
Then his own dad blackmailing his fiancée? Blaming him for Stella’s death. Who does that? What kind of person do you have to be? It’s no wonder Sam doesn’t trust anyone. “Your dad was here.”
He tenses. “What?”
“He was early.”
“Fuck. Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”
“No. He didn’t hurt me.” I lift my shaky hand and press it to his handsome face. “He hurt you.”
