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“Only because she was alive.” Carefully, he lifts her higher and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I checked her first while my boys stayed with them. If she was dead, I’d have taken care of business and called you up to let you know.”
I shrug and take a look around to make sure no one is listening. “I’d have done the same. Like I said,” I pause and meet his eyes, “I know guys like you.”
“She’s not mine.” Taking a deep breath, he looks down at the baby and sighs. “I know she’s not.”
“You know?”
“She looks like him. Not a lot,” he adds. “Most folks wouldn’t be able to tell. But I can. I know what’s Mel, and I know what should’ve come from me. But those bits remind me of him. That tells me she was wrong about timing.”
Shaking my head, I glance across the yard and watch as Fletch and Clay bring Creed and Boyd out to separate cruisers. “I think she knew all along. I think she chose you.” I tap his elbow with mine to pull his attention. “She was in trouble. She needed help. And if I remember correctly, you promised her a save.”
“Fuck, Copper.”
“She chose you. And they,” I nod toward Anton and Mrs. Boyd, “have no clue she’s not yours. They will never know if you don’t say anything.”
“And you’ll just…” His brows pinch closer. “You’ll sign off on shit, knowing it’s a lie?”
“I could.” I nod and peer down to my boots. “You owe Mel a save. You said you’re the son of a wife-beater who was the son of a wife-beater—”
“Can’t ignore patterns, Cop.”
“No. But the baby ain’t a boy, and in this case, there’s no wife around. Looks to me like we have a broken cycle, and you have the power to do it up right.”
When he looks across and burns the side of my face, I glance up.
“Claim her if you want her,” I say simply. “I’ll sign the documents, and there’s no one around who’ll argue that the baby belongs to someone else. But if you don’t want her, consider adoption. For as long as you and I keep our mouths shut, you retain complete control. Maybe there’s someone else out there who’ll give her the family she deserves. You get to approve them. You get to ask for an open or closed adoption. You can stay in her life as much or as little as you like. Be for her who Melissa wanted you to be. But if you open your trap and tell anyone that Mel lied and the baby is Anton’s, you lose everything.”
I look across at Clay shoving Anton into the car. He’s new to the job, but he’s already the kind of cop I’d like to keep close.
“You don’t wanna lose control to them, Stan. Mel deserved better. She begged for better.”
“Arch!” Fletch shouts across the lawn and waves me closer. “We gotta go.”
Frowning at the alarm in his tone, I bring my gaze back to Stan for a moment. “What’s it gonna be? You walking? Or are you keeping a promise and saving Mel the way you said you would?”
Snorting, he slides the tip of his nose against his daughter’s. “It’s my duty, ain’t it? To keep my baby from the likes of Creed.” His lips curl into a grin. “She and I are gonna break cycles together.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Clapping his shoulder, I push up to stand and wave a medic closer. Then I tell Stan, “I’ll drop by the hospital later tonight to check in on you two. But I’ve gotta go for now.”
“Yeah.” He flicks me away with a twist of his wrist. “Go do your cop thing. I’ll be around. You know where to find me.”
“I do.”
Pushing away from the car as medics stop in front of Stan and gently ask for his doll-like daughter, I cross the grass and stop in front of Fletch. “What’s up?”
“Check your phone.” He grabs my shoulder harder than I expect and sends my pulse scrambling. “Tim just called and asked where the fuck you were.”
“I’m working!” I drop a hand into my pocket and start running back to my cruiser when Fletch’s feet move faster.
Missed calls. Text messages. I spy Minka’s name first and foremost and read hers.
Instantly, my stomach drops out of my asshole, and my free hand goes to my gun.
“Stay here and finish it out!” Fletch shouts across to Clay. “We have something else to follow up, but we’ll be back.”
He leads me at a sprint to the passenger side of the car, then he opens the door and shoves me in. “What’s going on?” he demands, racing to the driver’s side and dropping in. “Arch! What’s happening?”
“Minka’s in trouble.”
