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“Did you knock Duffy up?” Arsène greeted me. “If so, no, I won’t be the godfather.”
“No offense, but I wouldn’t put you in charge of a Pet Rock.” I forced myself to smirk, like I didn’t just find out I had a fatherjustso I could say goodbye to him for the last time.
“Do you need us to bail you out?” Christian continued along the same theme. “Because if so, you’ll need to give me the details now. Arya has a charity event, and we need to be there in two hours.”
“I hate both of you,” I informed them calmly. “And I called to ask a question.”
“The answer is right on top, between the labia. A small bud.” Arsène yawned. “Bean-like.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Arsène sighed. “With the amount of porn you watched, we figured you knew—”
“Cut the bullshit. You know what I’m asking.”
“Why didn’t we tell you what?” Christian asked.
“That he was my father.”
There was silence for a few seconds before they spoke.
“We weren’t one hundred percent sure,” Christian admitted. “That’s the main reason.”
“The secondary one being that if he really did neglect you, he didn’t deserve closure,” Arsène continued. “You’re insufferable but still worthy of more than this bastard gave you.”
“He gave me nothing.” I held up my arm once I got to the street, hailing a cab. The lab where I was going to give my blood was quick about withdrawing it. They said I should get the results back as early as twenty-four hours, sometimes sooner, if I came in today.
“Exactly,” Christian said. “Are you mad?”
“No.” I slipped into a cab. “Just weirded out. I’ll get over it.”
I couldn’t wait to get back home and talk to Duffy. She had the tendency to make sense of things.
And so, when I climbed up the stairs, I naturally started feeling a little better. Yeah, life was shit, my father was dying (and also in fuckingexistence), and, yes, I was on edge about the blood work, but there was Duffy.
Then I opened the door, and there wasn’tonlyDuffy.
There was also Cocksucker, bent on one knee.
A knee I wanted to snap with a baseball bat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DUFFY
“Riggs, wait!”
I stalked down the stairway, stumbling over my own feet, gripping the banister for dear life. Riggs was faster and determined to get out of there. He slapped the entrance door open and let it swing back, almost hitting me in the face. I pushed through and ran down the street after him. It was evening, and the sky was painted in purples and blues. The sidewalk was overflowing with people. Pedestrians, bikers, people walking their dogs. I slammed into two men in suits and a teenager in Lululemon pants on my quest to reach him.
“Please!” I cried, trying to catch the back of his shirt. “I can explain.”
BJ was still in my flat, presumably, and I very much hoped he realized by now we weren’t getting engaged or married, or even getting friendship bracelets together.
Riggs picked up his pace. At this point I was desperate and decided to throw myself over him. Maybe I’d have practiced more self-restraint if it was just about BJ. But the man just found out that his father wasalive and dying a slow, painful death. Now was not the time to worry about my precious pride.
I grabbed the back of his shirt, falling atop him. He swiveled, demonstrating excellent instincts, and caught me in his arms before I pancaked on the sidewalk. He righted me and took a step back.
“What do you want?” He was panting so hard I could see his muscles contract under his shirt.
