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It seems to pain him to admit their mistake. But I’m too distracted by the results to care. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. We can perform another test if you’d like. Or—” He clears his throat. “—if you’d be more comfortable with a different lab after this… well, I can recommend a few places.”
“But how?”
“I didn’t realize the error right away. And I apologize. That’s why we ran it twice. Ms. Kendall, did you know?”
“No,” I whisper.
I can’t speak.
“Ms. Kendall?”
My stomach cramps. Ice swirls in my gut, chilling me from the inside out.
“Ms. Kendall, are you there?”
His voice sounds like it’s a million miles away.
Numbness spreads from my chest to my fingertips.
The phone falls out of my hand and clatters onto my desk.
Chapter Eleven
Hope
* * *
Rochlan North: Not excluded as the biological father of Marcel Whelan.
Probability of Paternity: 99.687%
Does Rock know?
I can’t imagine Rock keeping something like this from me. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not unless he and Teller both know and agreed to keep it a secret for some reason.
Shit.
After shaking off the news, I discuss the rest of the results with the lab. Reluctantly he gives me the results for everyone else. The official reports will be in the mail by the end of the week.
We hang up, and I immediately send Rock a text. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle speaking to him on the phone without blurting out the news.
And this is really something I need to tell him face to face.
“Hope? Are you ready?” Rock asks, standing outside the chapel doors.
I had to let him know the club’s good news.
Every single one of them had been excluded as the biological father of Baby Boy March.
I glance down at the papers in my hands.
The club is off the hook.
But Rock? And Teller? What do I say to them?
Rock already has a child.
I thought… well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.
Rock’s already a father. He has a child with someone who, as far as I’m concerned, took advantage of him when he was a child.
My hand rubs over my stomach, thinking of our daughter.
She already has a big brother.
There’s irony here somewhere. Rock’s treated the guys like sons for years from what I’ve witnessed and the stories they’ve shared with me.
How do I break this to Rock? To Teller? What can I say to make this better? Make it hurt less? Because I know it will devastate them both.
“Hope?” Rock calls again.
“I’m coming.” I toss my hair back and march into the war room wearing what I hope passes for confidence.
Rock closes the door and nudges me toward the head of the table, near his seat.
“You’re killing us, Prez,” Stash says. “Why you making us wait?”
“You’re making us wait by running your mouth,” Ravage points out.
“Shut up,” Wrath barks.
“Okay, guys.” I pause and try to push a little excitement into my voice. “None of you are the father.”
“Woo! Yes! Thank fuck!” Ravage shouts, jumping out of his chair. “This is the best Jerry Springer episode ever!”
All the brothers erupt with cheers, high fives, and relieved breaths.
Sparky runs over and wraps his arms around me. I’m nearly knocked over by the scent of his latest crop. “Thank you, Hope.”
“Thank science, Sparky.”
“That too.” In his excitement, he runs into the door. Wrath has to steady him and open the door for him.
“Simmer down before you hurt yourself, Sparky!” Rock shouts. He tilts his head and smiles at me. “Thank you,” he mouths.
I don’t return the smile or have any witty comments. Rock’s happy expression quickly fades. His gaze zeroes in on my shaking hand holding the piece of paper with the devastating secret in black and white.
“Thanks, Hope. You’re a champ for putting up with us,” Z says on his way out.
Dex doesn’t seem as overjoyed as everyone else. I reach out and brush my fingers against his arm. “This is good news, right?” I ask in a lower voice.
It takes a second, but his mouth curls up, and he gives my hand an affectionate squeeze. “Yup. Coulda ended up being a real fuckin’ mess if it’d gone the other way.” His gaze drops to my stomach. “Glad you won’t have to be stressed out any longer. Worried about you.”
For a brief moment, his hand hovers over my belly.
That complaint about everyone thinking a pregnant lady’s tummy is somehow public property is true. I’ve swatted more hands off me when I’m out and about than I can count. But around here, the guys wouldn’t dare without seeking Rock’s permission first.
Okay, and maybe once or twice when Grace has been extra busy, I’ve stopped and pulled whoever was closest to me over to feel her kicks. Most of the guys—even Wrath—think it’s pretty cool. Although, Ravage did ask me once if I was worried the baby would try to bust out of my belly Alien-style.
But Dex stops himself, dropping his hand to his side and shaking his head.
With no understanding of what’s bothering him, I try to give him a reassuring smile. “She’s sleeping now,” I say to cover the awkwardness.
“You okay, Cinderella?” Wrath settles a big hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention up to him. “You must be relieved you won’t have to deal with Inga again.”
Honestly, I haven’t given Inga a single thought since I received the news about Rock and Teller. Soon I’ll need to call the other attorney and prepare my motion to dismiss.
But that can wait.
Everyone except Rock, Wrath, Teller, and Murphy have moved into the living room. There’s already talk of riding up to Fletcher Park to celebrate the news and throwing a party later.
Teller stands and pushes his chair in.
“Teller, can you stay for a minute?” I ask softly.
I can’t keep this to myself another second.
Should I wait and tell Rock alone first? Knowing Rock, it’s not something he’d want to hide from Teller, so I dismiss that idea. They’re both here now.
All I’m doing is making excuses to delay blowing up their world.
Murphy quirks an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s needed too. I shake my head, and he slaps Teller’s shoulder before walking out.
Wrath also seems reluctant to leave, but after a head-jerk from Rock, he walks out, shutting the door behind him.
“What’s the matter, baby doll?” Rock asks.
How do I say this?
My stomach cramps and I wince.
“Shit. Sit down, Hope. What’s wrong?” Rock asks, jumping up to help me into Wrath’s chair.
Teller leans forward, watching me with a careful e
xpression. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I take a deep breath and compose myself. “The lab discovered something else. I, uh, don’t understand the why of it, but they tested the samples against each other… gosh, I don’t even know—”
“What, Hope?” Teller asks. “Are we sick or something? You’re freaking me out.”
Rock reaches over and grasps Teller’s hand in a quick hold. It’s a brief gesture, meant to reassure. Brotherly.
No. Fatherly.
A tear slips down my cheek, thinking of all the years they’ve lost. All the years they’ve known each other, but not known this.
My gaze darts between them.
Spit it out! They’ve waited long enough.
I force a smile that probably borders on deranged because I can’t stop crying. “There was a match.”
“Who?” Teller asks. He sits back and smirks. “Are we related to someone famous or something?”
Rock turns slowly, running his gaze over Teller. Staring at him as if seeing him for the first time.
“Rock?” I plead. “They matched.” I gesture helplessly between them. “You two. Teller’s your… Teller’s your son.”
The easy smile vanishes from Teller’s face. “What the fuck?” He jumps out of his chair, slamming his back against the wall. “What are you talking about, Hope? That’s not even possible. That’s crazy.”
Rock sits back, staring at the far end of the room as if he’s trying to conjure up a memory. “Are they sure?” he finally asks.
“They tested it a few times… because of the age difference, they tested it a few times.”
“Rock, that’s insane. That can’t be right.” Teller tears his gaze away from Rock and drops into his chair. He stares at me. “How is that possible, Hope?” His voice is full of so much anguish it breaks my heart, but I’m afraid to go to him.
Afraid and too pregnant to easily get out of the damn chair. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore and push myself up.
Rock’s still trying to absorb the information while Teller looks like he’s ready to come out of his skin.
Teller watches me approach and tips his head up. “How?” he asks again.
Leaning over, I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He turns, hugging me back—almost clinging. After a minute, he pulls the chair next to him out, offering it to me. I take it and grasp his hand while we both watch Rock.
