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“Have a seat, Dad,” I hear Mason say. I’m purposely taking my time to give them some privacy even though I can still hear them. Hopefully, Mr. Holt will quickly say why he’s here, then leave. “What do you want?”
“I need a favor,” his dad responds with a heavy sigh as if he’s not used to asking anyone for help.
“Really? What kind of favor?”
“I’m in a bit of trouble,” his dad says, which by his defeated tone, he’s nervous to admit.
“Spit it out,” Mason demands, and I can tell he’s anxious. “What do you need from me?”
“I need you to claim to be the father of a woman who’s pregnant with my baby.”
Everything goes silent as I nearly drop the bottle of creamer I grabbed from the fridge. My heart is pounding so hard, I hear it throbbing in my head. What did his father just say?
Mason starts laughing as if he’s sure he’s heard him wrong too.
“You can’t be serious. Do you ever learn your goddamn lesson?”
“This isn’t funny,” his father snaps. “This involves you more than you realize. If news comes out about the affair, it’ll come back to you.”
“What the fuck? How? Please enlighten me how your wandering dick involves me? Or rather, how about you learn to keep it in your pants for once?” Mason’s tone is sharp and cruel, and I want to go in there and support him. However, I’m not sure I should be in the same room as Mr. Holt at this point because I might junk punch him myself.
“Don’t you talk to me like that, Mason. Remember who pays for this house. Who’s paid your tuition. Who’s gotten you out of murder charges and from going to prison. Without me, your life would’ve been fucked up ages ago, son.”
“Yeah, and you use every chance to throw it in my face, don’t you?” Mason’s voice goes up an octave, and I’m scared shit’s about to go down if I don’t intervene.
“Okay, sorry it took so long…” I say sweetly, carrying a mug, then handing it to Mr. Holt. “Careful, it’s hot,” I tell him, flashing him a wide grin.
Mason sits on one end of the couch, and Mr. Holt is in the old recliner on the other side. Knowing they were just about to rip each other’s throats out, I plop down between them.
“He won’t have time to drink it because he was just leaving,” Mason says between gritted teeth.
“Mason…” his dad pleads, setting down his coffee. “If a scandal breaks out and my character is questioned, they could dig into anything they wanted to prove I’m not suitable to be the DA. All of my cases, your cases. Our family. You, your girlfriend, your friends. Is that what you want? After everything you’ve been through?”
Mason scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through nor have you given two shits about it. You haven’t a clue what it’s been like, so stop acting like you know.”
I don’t want to help Mr. Holt any more than Mason does, but if what he’s saying is true, and it could affect his previous case or our personal lives, I want to know more.
“What would he have to do?” I blurt out, directing my gaze to Mr. Holt. “To prevent the scandal,” I clarify. “What would Mason have to do or say?”
“Soph—” Mason starts, but Mr. Holt interrupts.
“Claim that he’s the father of the baby and that any rumors of an affair with me are false. State that he was seeing her before you two got serious, and that he’s taking on the financial responsibility to raise the child. That way it’ll leave me out of it completely, and no one will go digging, and the baby can still keep the Holt name,” he answers as if he had it rehearsed.
“You’re crazy,” Mason huffs. “I’m not putting Sophie through that, and I’m not lying for you. This is too far.”
Mr. Holt sits up straighter and swallows. “It’s your lawyer,” he says, his tone quieter than before.
“What?” I say. At the same time, Mason says, “Excuse me?”
“Serena. She’s pregnant.”
I gasp, my jaw nearly falling to the floor. I hadn’t expected that news in a million years. Mason looks like he’s chewing glass, and he has every right to be upset. His friendship with Serena is special, but this is unreal. He looks completely betrayed.
“Get out,” Mason says in a tone that sends shivers down my spine, and not the good kind. “Get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops and have you removed.”
Mr. Holt stands, not the least bit shaken by his threat. In fact, he chuckles darkly. “Think about it.” Then he buttons his suit jacket and turns toward me. “Thank you for the coffee, Sophie.”
I nod but don’t move. I want to slap his shit-eating grin off his face. The woman he knocked up wasn’t just a random nameless homewrecker. The person I worried wanted Mason and had the potential to interfere in our relationship is now the woman who could ruin everything for him—for us.
