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“I can’t let her… I don’t want to put pressure on her.” I say suddenly. She never wanted the baby, and I have a feeling that a part of her decision to keep him was because she thought we could be a family. Now that that’s out of the cards, how can I make her take care of not one, but two people? It’s just wrong.
“She wanted it, man. I’m tellin’ you. It’s what she wants.” He gets out and goes to get the wheelchair, bringing it over to the side of the truck and opening my door.
“But I don’t want her to do everything.” I urge, hoping he understands that I’m too weak of a man to speak my concerns. An ex-girlfriend shouldn’t have to deal with bathroom and changing and washing duties.
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hugo contacted a nurse that will be by daily to take care of shit. It’s some older, lesbian chick, so don’t think about trying to have her touch your balls or anything.”
Hugo works for Rich, Easton’s dad. He’s a bodyguard of sorts. He’s also Rich’s right hand man, in a way. He’s worked with Rich forever, and he’s a fucking beast of a man. Tall and wide, not someone you’d ever want to fuck with.
“You’re a sick fuck, Easton.” I snort.
When Easton shuts the car door, my smile drops when Cara comes back into view. She’s wringing her hands repeatedly in front of her with a nervous look on her face.
Silently, Easton pushes me up the brand-new white ramp and stops right in front of Cara, Rose, and the baby. What’s his name, again?
Wesley.
Wesley Logan.
My son.
“Welcome home.” Cara says.
