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“No. We haven’t been able to determine that yet. There was an error,” he repeats.
I’d researched the facility before agreeing to it. Shoot, if the other side hears about a screwup, they might ask for all the tests to be redone. “Is that common?”
He coughs. In the background I hear papers shuffling. “No. But it happens. We had some delays due to information from the California lab arriving late.”
That still doesn’t really answer my concerns. “Fine. Who do I need to send back?” Please don’t let it be Bricks. He already left for Puerto Rico and has only been in limited contact with Rock.
“The first two. Let me find their numbers so you can match them up to the names.”
Icy dread curls in my stomach. I know exactly who went first.
Still, I wait for him to say the names. “Marcel Whelan and a… Rochlan North.”
Jesus Christ.
My stomach falls, and my lunch threatens to make a reappearance.
All this time.
I haven’t doubted Rock once.
I still don’t.
But…
Could he somehow be the father of Inga’s baby?
Chapter Seven
Hope
It’s no big deal.
Mix-ups happen all the time.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Haven’t there been cases where the hospital amputated the wrong leg?
Okay, that’s not helpful or relevant.
I spend lots of time trying to calm myself down before explaining to Teller and Rock that they have to return to the lab.
Teller turns green when I inform him he has to go retake the paternity test.
“What do you mean there was a screwup?”
“Teller, I’m giving you all the information I have. Honest.”
“Shit.” He tears his fingers through his hair.
Rock doesn’t take the news that much better.
But where Teller’s anxiety stems from the fact that he might actually be the father of Inga’s child, Rock’s annoyance is directed at the lab who is “wasting his time.”
There’s not even a flicker of concern in his voice otherwise.
He stares at me for a few seconds and hooks his hand around my waist. “What’s got you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing.”
He searches my eyes. “I’m not gonna be mad at you if you’re having doubts.” He gives me a tense smile. “I got nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Don’t be so sure, Hope,” Teller says. “At this point, I wouldn’t put it past this bitch to dig a condom out of the trash and inseminate herself.”
“Eww,” I groan. “Thank God we don’t use those.”
He cringes at my zinger. “I walked right into that. Gross.”
Rock cocks his head and glares at Teller. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”
I squeeze Rock’s arm.
Hey, at least Teller’s laughing now instead of looking like he might choke the first stripper who crosses his path.
Charlotte rubs her hands over Teller’s back. “We will sue the ever-loving-shit out of that bitch if it’s your son, Marcel. I promise you that. Already looked into getting admitted to the California bar on an ad hoc basis in case we can’t sue her in New York.”
“Christ,” Teller mutters.
Charlotte’s been rather practical about the whole situation, but at least she hasn’t blamed Teller. Not to my knowledge anyway.
“If that boy belongs to anyone in this club, Hope and I will make her life a living hell,” Charlotte promises, waving her hand between the two of us.
“Thanks, sunshine,” he says, pulling her against him. “You make this so much easier.”
They whisper and kiss until Rock, and I slowly edge away from them.
I don’t bother correcting her. Nope, after Rock’s out of this litigation, I’m out. It’s already caused me enough stress. I need to focus on Grace.
I love the club, but I love my baby more.
Chapter Eight
Rock
Because it was their screwup, the lab schedules us right away. It’s raining, and I pick Teller up about an hour before our appointments so we can talk. After the lab, we’re supposed to meet up with Murphy, Wrath, and Stash. We’re headed to our drop-off with the Demons, something I’m almost as eager to get out of the way as much as this fucking test.
Charlotte waves to me from the front porch and kisses Teller before he leaves. So I guess that’s a good sign.
“She still handling this okay?” I ask once he shuts his
door.
He glares at me. “Yeah, we’ve had all sorts of fun conversations. ‘No worries, babe. I’m pretty sure I’m not the dad, but I gotta go in and give my DNA again.’” He leans over and runs his hand over his hair, spraying water droplets everywhere.
“What are you, a dog?”
“Been called worse.” He peers out through the windshield. The rain’s coming down so hard I can barely see ten feet in front of the truck. “What the fuck’s with all the rain?”
“Guess it’s better than snow.”
He snorts. After a few minutes of silence, he asks, “What the fuck am I going to do, Rock?”
“We don’t know anything yet. Don’t worry about it until you have to.”
“Yeah, that’s what Hope keeps saying.”
“Then listen to her.”
“She doing okay? She’s seemed calm every time she talks to us about it, but this has to really suck for her.”
“It fucking sucks and I hate every goddamn second of it. This is the last thing she needs right now.”
“The baby’s okay, though, right? I know Hope wants to handle the case, but maybe you should pass it to Glassman.”
The thought has crossed my mind. More than once. But I agree with Hope. I don’t want anyone to think we’re not united. “I thought Charlotte wanted to handle it?”
“Fuck that. I don’t want her involved. That’s your call to make anyway, Prez.”
“I’ll call him if I think she needs a break.”
Teller sighs and sits back. “This is such bullshit. I barely fuckin’ know Inga.”
“Then I guess you shouldn’t have stuck your dick in her.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful. Very helpful, Prez.”
I spread my hands wide. “What do you want me to say? It’s a risk you take. If he’s yours, you’ll man the fuck up and do what’s right for your kid.”
“And what exactly is that? ‘Co-parent’ with a woman I barely know and don’t respect?”
“Co-parent?”
“Charlotte says it all the time.” Frustrated, he waves his hand in the air. “That’s not the point.”
“Marcel, stop. Chill the fuck out until we know for sure.”
