by Nikki Chase
“You say that, but you don’t seem very comfortable with the idea.”
“What can I say? She’s my sister and it just feels weird to be meddling in her relationship stuff.” Sawyer narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t have a sister, do you?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought. Just take my word for it; it’s just weird.” He pauses. “How would you feel if I told you to find your mom a date on some dating app?”
I think about sifting through inappropriate, overtly sexual messages from middle-aged men in order to find a gentleman for my mom. As I twitch at the thought, Sawyer laughs.
“See? Now you know what I mean,” he says.
“The kid, who’s the father?” I blurt out, unable to stop the question that’s been brewing in my mind since I laid my eyes on her again.
Katie. My Katie. My kitten.
I’m sure it’s her. There’s no question about that.
The only question that remains in my mind is . . .
Is that my boy?
“Are you thinking . . .” From the way Sawyer stares at me, I can tell he already knows why I asked the question, but he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.
I know. It seems too crazy to be true.
He works on a case for two years, gives up, and in the end realizes the person he’s been hired to find is his sister all along?
On top of the shock of me possibly being the father of his nephew, maybe Sawyer’s also assessing his life choices, considering he couldn’t even find someone who was right under his nose the entire time.
“Yes, I’m thinking whatever you’re thinking,” I say. “Do you know who the father of your nephew is?”
“No.” Sawyer appears dazed, like he’s in shock and still grappling with the mind-blowing implications of our conversation.
“How old is the boy?”
“He . . . uh . . . just had his second birthday not too long ago.”
My heart stops, although I was expecting and hoping for that very answer. “And by ‘not too long ago,’ do you mean about, say, three or four months ago?”
Sawyer goes quiet as he thinks. “Maybe.”
“Hmm . . . ‘Maybe.’” My fingers tap on the wooden dining table.
That’s Katie—I’m sure of it.
And the boy’s a little over two years old.
My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I saw Katie in the kitchen. I can’t go home like this and spend the whole night in suspense. That would be torture.
I usually prefer to use more care and calculation before making a big decision . . .
But I’ve already spent so many nights pining for Katie, wishing I could see her again. Even jerking off has become a sad affair, now that the only thing that can get me off is the memory of taking Katie for the first time in The Succubus.
But that won’t be the last time; now that I’ve found her again, I’ll make sure of it. Especially if that boy is really mine.
“Has your sister ever mentioned working at The Succubus?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” Sawyer draws a deep breath. “Honestly, a couple of years ago, we were both working so much we hardly saw each other.”
“But hearing that she might’ve worked at The Succubus doesn’t surprise you?”
“After hearing about how you might be the father of my nephew?” Sawyer asks. “Yeah, no. Not really.”
“Fair enough.” I nod.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Sawyer says.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re judging me for not being a better brother.”
“I’m not.”
“Look, when Katie and I were younger, we had to work our asses off. We had shitty jobs with shitty wages, so we had to put in a ton of hours just to make enough money to survive,” Sawyer says.
“Okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“We had many jobs, too. Both of us,” he keeps going. “I can’t keep track of all her jobs, and vice versa.”
“It’s okay, man. You did what you could,” I say. I’m starting to sense that Sawyer’s trying to justify his actions to himself and not to me.
Sawyer looks out the window into the distance. “I think she may have had some questionable jobs, like working as a sexy waitress or something. But The Succubus . . . That’s something else.”
“If it makes you feel better, it was probably not as bad as you think. Also, I suspect she only worked there for less than a week.”
Sawyer nods. “Thanks, man. I know you’re trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that.
“Sometimes, I can’t help but feel guilty over how Katie’s life’s turned out. I mean, yeah, she has a good job, and she’s making good money. But she’s also struggling because she’s on her own.
“I try to help out when I can, but it’s not enough. It’s too little, too late. I should’ve taken better care of her when she was younger.”
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “I think she’s doing great on her own. And I’m sure it has something to do with how you raised her to be hard-working and resilient.”
Sawyer laughs. “Now you’re just bullshitting me. You don’t even know how I raised her.”
“No, but I know you, and I’m sure she learned a lot from your example.”
Sawyer falls silent. He looks straight at me and gives me a small smile. “Thanks for saying that. You don’t know how much that means to me. Katie keeps telling me William needs a ‘male role model’ in his life, and I can’t help but worry that I’ll fall short, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say. I’ve actually been impatiently waiting for Sawyer to stop chattering about the past so I can ask him about the future, and he’s just given me a good opener. “Speaking of William, has he ever asked about his father?”
“Not yet. He’s way too young for that.” Sawyer shakes his head. Then, he chuckles. “Katie plans on faking amnesia when he does ask.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to fly.”
“I think it’s going to be fine, at least until he’s older,” says a female voice that surprises both Sawyer and me into silence.
“Hey, little man,” Sawyer says as he picks up his nephew—who could also be my son.
I stare at William’s dark, curly hair and his clear, green eyes. Katie has dark hair, too . . . and brown eyes— just like Sawyer.
And the way he smiles kind of makes him look like my mom . . .
He’s adorable. But more than that, he feels familiar.
“Aww . . . You guys haven’t eaten at all?” Katie asks as she takes her seat. “Now the food’s all cold.”
Sawyer and I give each other a look.
I nod at him.
He nods back at me.
“Hey, where are you going?” Katie asks as Sawyer gets up from his chair, taking William with him.
“William just told me he wants to eat in the living room, so that’s where I’m taking him. You want to go sit on the couch, William?” Sawyer asks the toddler in his arm. “Yeah, you do. You want to watch TV, don’t you?”
“TV!” William exclaims happily.
Katie sighs in defeat as Sawyer lifts William up onto his shoulders goes into the living room.
“I’d tell Sawyer William’s spent too much time in front of the TV already, but he knows I’ll basically let him do anything as long as it gives me some time to myself,” Katie says.
“It must be hard on you, raising a child on your own,” I say.
“Yeah, well, like anything else in life, you get used to it,” she says matter-of-factly.
“That’s true.” My heart’s jumps up to my throat, making it hard for me to speak.
How do I even start this conversation? I can’t just go, “Hey, guess what? I’m your son’s father.”
But I also can’t afford to skirt around the issue. That two-year-old is a wild card; he could start crying while we’re having a conv
ersation, at which point Katie would probably go and tend to him.
“Katie, you said you heard my conversation with Sawyer earlier,” I start. I can feel the throbbing of my heart in my throat.
“Yeah, just a little bit. What was that about? Me?” Katie grins as she picks up a piece of chicken. She adds, “Not that you have to tell me. It just sounded interesting.”
“It was about you,” I admit.
“Really? I thought I was just being presumptuous.” Katie stares at me like she didn’t expect my answer. “Or, more precisely, I didn’t think you were just going to admit it.”
“I’ve been looking for you. I’ve searched everywhere.”
“You’ve been . . . looking for me? Are you sure it’s me?” Katie tilts her head in delightful way while she maintains eye contact.
I remember those big, brown eyes. I’d recognize them anywhere.
I’ve already started telling her. May as well go for broke.
“Yes,” I say with certainty. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
“But why?” she asks, her eyes studying me.
Hmmm . . . Why, huh? People always say that’s the hardest question, but I’ve never come across a “why” that’s harder to answer than this.
What do I say? I have a bunch of reasons, but none of them seem appropriate to say right now.
Because we fucked one night, and now my cock only gets hard when I think about that night?
Because you’re the only girl who has ever been able to satisfy my dark urges?
Because you’re beautiful, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the hypnotizing way you move?
Because my work has seemed dull since that night we first met, and I don’t even care that it’s not doing as well as it could?
Because you may be the mother of my child?
Katie
I observe Adam as he goes deep into pensive mode, both of us looking at each other without saying a word, trying to decide how to navigate this conversation.
If he didn't come here with Sawyer, I would've ignored him. But even if Sawyer has idiot friends and can be an idiot himself sometimes, he does try to be a good brother. He’d never knowingly let them lie to me or manipulate me.
Tonight, Sawyer’s gone as far as taking William off my hands so I can have this conversation with Adam. So regardless of how crazy it gets, I know this is serious.
Besides, I can't shake off the feeling that there's something familiar about this man, although I can't place him. I wonder if he knows why. It certainly looks like he does.
“So . . .?” I break the silence.
The food’s getting cold, but I don’t care anymore. At the very least, William’s already eating—I can hear his giggle and one of Sawyer’s funny voices from the living room.
“So this is going to sound strange, but I want you to hear me out.” Adam appears different from the way he was at the beginning of the night. More confident. A lot more assertive. It’s like he was caught off guard before, but he’s regained his footing now.
“Okay,” I say, partly because I’m curious to find out what this is all about, and to be honest, partly because he speaks in such an authoritative way.
“Remember when you worked at The Succubus?” he asks.
My heart skips a beat.
“How do you know that?” I stare at him, trying to figure him out. This is getting curiouser and curiouser.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively. “So you admit that you used to work there?”
“Of course, it matters.” I realize my volume’s getting louder, so I close my mouth and take a deep breath.
I don’t want William to hear this, even if he probably wouldn’t understand anyway. And Sawyer would be disappointed to hear about my shameful experience working at The Succubus.
In a whisper, I ask, “Did Sawyer tell you? Did he investigate me?”
I can’t believe Sawyer would do that to me. But if he didn’t do it, then how does this stranger know about my dark past?
“No, he . . .” Adam stops to reconsider. “Actually, in a way, he kind of did. But it wasn’t like what you’re thinking.”
“What does that even mean? You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking Sawyer specifically looked into your past for me. For money,” Adam says, guessing precisely what’s on my mind.
“And you’re saying he didn’t?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He shoots me a smile that makes my heart flip.
“So what did he do, then? And what did you do?”
“I hired Sawyer to help me find you,” Adam says. He chuckles softly and adds, “He spent two years trying to do that, without even knowing that it’s you I’ve been looking for.”
I frown.
So that means . . . If tonight’s not the first time we meet and he knows I used to work at The Succubus . . .
Could he be . . .
I mean, I only worked there that one night before the whole thing got me spooked.
And the very thing that scared me was . . .
That masked man. The one who took me into the private room.
Could this man sitting in front of me right now be him?
Could it be that, after I quit the job, the very man who ruined The Succubus for me has now found me?
Man, if my guess is right, I seriously have the worst luck.
“Who are you?” I ask him directly.
“You don’t remember me?” he asks, gazing at me with his sharp, penetrating green eyes.
As our eyes meet, it feels like I’m noticing him for the first time.
Our surroundings are completely different, now that we’re in my home instead of at some secret sex club. As a general rule, I don’t expect the best lay of my life, whom I met at some secret sex club, to just waltz into my kitchen with my brother and my son—or should I say our son now?
I study his features.
Green eyes. Dark hair. Strong, chiseled jawline. The stubble’s gone, and his skin tone is a little darker . . . but it’s him.
It’s him.
The guy who paid me for sex.
Oh, and the father of my child.
God. That is so fucked up. My life is fucked up.
I can’t let my past mistakes hurt William, too. He deserves better. Which means it’s probably best for us both to have no more dealings with this guy.
At the same time, this guy has a right to know.
When I first found out I was pregnant, I tried to find the masked man.
But, know what a secret sex club is really good at, besides creating a sexy atmosphere? That’s right. Keeping secrets.
Nobody would tell me anything, not even after I told them why I needed the information. I talked to Kendra, Monica, and even a couple of the girls who’d briefly chatted with me on my first and only night working there.
As far as the club was concerned, I was probably some extortionist skank trying to blackmail one of their esteemed guests.
I don’t blame them; not really. I’m pretty sure some girls have tried to do that before. And without the guy vouching for me, it was impossible for them to know if we’d really had sex, or even if he’d really existed.
I mean, I didn’t even know his name at that point. I had no idea it was Adam.
I examine his face closely. If I imagine a mask over the top half, I can almost see the masked man from The Succubus.
But at the same time, I wonder if that’s just because of the power of suggestion, given what he’s already told me about himself.
“Are you starting to remember . . . kitten?” Adam asks in a low, seductive voice as he levels his intense gaze at me.
All my doubt evaporates.
He has to be that masked man. Which also means that . . . he’s the father of my child.
My blood runs cold. My skin prickles with goosebumps.
What’s he doing here? Why has he been looking for me? Does he know about William? Is
he here to take William away from me?
No, don’t get all paranoid, I tell myself. He probably doesn’t even know.
It’s been three years since that night. In these three years, I’ve thought about this man many, many times.
At first, I tried to forget about him. Then the pregnancy test came back positive, and I tried to find him, to no avail. So, after that, I tried to forget about him again.
I haven’t been able to forget, though.
Sometimes, when things get especially difficult, I even fantasize about having him by my side, relieving some of the burden from my shoulders and having warm, fuzzy, father-and-son moments with William.
Often, when I lie awake at night, trying to go to sleep after William’s woken me up, yet again, I replay the scenes from my memory, remembering the way he completely owned me, body and soul, even if only for a short while.
But those are just fantasies.
In reality, I’m on my own. Sawyer tries to help me whenever he can, but I’m careful not to put too much burden on him. William’s my responsibility, after all.
Also, in reality, our one night of passion meant nothing. It was just momentary pleasure.
Adam gave me money like I was a common whore—after what I thought was a sensual, beautiful awakening. I was nothing but some girl to fuck, to him.
And even though it’s been three years, why should he view me any different? Until tonight, there’s been zero interaction between us since our little . . . transaction.
“What do you want?” I ask. “Why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Adam asks, cocking an eyebrow as he leans closer over the table.
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“You,” he says with so much feeling I start to doubt myself. He adds, “I want you.”
“And that’s why you hired Sawyer?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes.” Adam shrugs.
I know rich people spend money like water, but it’s ridiculous. So this is the never-ending, missing-person case that got Sawyer the capital he needed to expand his business?
It occurs to me how shit my brother must be at his job, but this is not the time to be worrying about him.
“Why me? None of the other girls at The Succubus would let you fuck them?” I ask, deliberately slipping in a curse word to let him know I don’t buy his act.
