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He’s not unaffected at all. He’s trying, but Ben’s a hot topic.
We watch him walk away, then eyes go back to Iz. “He doesn’t want anything to do with it.” She swallows nervously. “Ben, that is. I have hisblessingto do as I please, though he’d prefer I abort. Whatever I do, he doesn’t wanna be involved.”
“Fucking pussy,” Jon snaps. “What kind of piece of shit is he that he doesn’t want to know his baby?”
Tink stands from the table and drops her plate and glass into the sink. “I’ll go check on Jim.”
Copying Tink, Iz stands from the table and drops her dishes in the sink. “Can we drop it? It’s actually the best-case scenario for me. I told him. I’ve done my bit, and he’s choosing not to be a part of it. That means I won’t be tied to him for the next eighteen years. I don’t have to share the baby, or deal with custody bullshit. Bean’s mine,onlymine. I’m actually happy with how it worked out.”
“But what about financial support?” Aiden asks. “How can he get out of that? He does the deed, but shucks off responsibility? A real man would never do that.”
“I’d rather do it alone,” she huffs. “I’d honestly pay him to stay away, so really, I win. I can do this alone. But for today, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
My phone vibrates on the table and draws every set of eyes in the room. Baby-talk and irresponsible pricks go forgotten as the vibrations move the cell half an inch across the surface.
Kit presses a kiss to my forehead as I reach to pick it up, but when she attempts to stand to give me space, I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her down. “You need to stay, baby.” Before the call ends, I swipe my thumb across the screen and accept. “Bobby Kincaid speaking…”
“Hi son, it’s Geoffrey Montgomery here, how are y–”
“Yeah, I was expecting your call.” Just give me the fucking date.
“Right. Well, Thomlassen’s camp have signed the contracts. It’s on.”
“When?”
“October twelfth.”
“But that’s–”
“Ten weeks away.” He chuckles like the fat, overfed, overpaid snot that he is. “Better get in shape, son. If you forfeit again, you won’t be offered another shot.”
“But Jimmy–”
“Will fight the same day. Same event. Same venue. Different division. He’ll fight before you. Get into shape, Kincaid, get into my office to sign the contracts, then talk to my PA so we can start the promo blitz. Good luck.”
I slam the phone down when he disconnects the call. “Fuck!”
“What? What is it?” Kit sits up tall when Jack’s chair hits the wall and he bolts back to the TV. He flicks it on and sits on the floor the way a toddler often does. My picture sits next to Thomlassen’s on the screen with a flashingBreaking News!banner.
“I know why they were stalling.” I bite off my curse and squeeze Kit’s hips harder than I should. “Rat bastard fucking sneaks. We have ten weeks.”
Jimmy stands pale faced in front of Iz. “Fuck.”
