Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I sit down, face Linda. “Is the father in the picture?”
She shakes her head. “No, Chance.”
Poor Avery. A single mom. Well, no longer. I’ll take care of her and her son. I’ll even take care of Linda.
“I’m back.”
I look up. The sweet voice of my love. Her cheeks are tear-streaked, her hair is mussed, and her skirt rumpled. Still, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Avery…” Linda begins.
“They’ve moved him to a room. They’re going to watch him overnight.”
“The MRI results?” Linda asks.
“The radiologist is reading them now. We don’t know yet, but the doctor is optimistic.” Avery holds out her hand to me. “Come with me. I need to talk to you.”
“It’s okay, kitten. I know he’s your son.”
Avery glares at her mother, and then turns back to me. Studies my face. “If you’re this calm, you clearly don’t know everything. Please.”
I rise and take her hand. She leads me out of the ER waiting area and then outside in the wretched heat to a wooden bench. She sits down and pats the space next to her.
I take the seat, and then she takes both of my hands in her small ones.
“Chance, I’m sorry,” she admits. She studies my chin and then finally meets my gaze.
“For what? For having a son?”
She gulps. “God, no. He’s the most precious thing in my life. I’m sorry that—” She chokes back a sob.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hands. “He’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”
She nods, gulping again. “Chance, I—”
“Listen,” I say, “it’s all okay. I know what my father did. I know about the agreement between him and your mother. He was a vicious and evil man, but he’s gone now, and I swear to God he’ll never hurt us again. I’ll take care of you. You, your mother, and your son, kitten. You’re all mine now.”
She sniffles. “Oh, Chance. You really don’t see, do you?”
“See what?”
“Grady. God, when you see him…” She inhales. “He’s yours, Chance. Grady is your son.”
My body goes numb. Completely numb. It’s hot as fuck out with the sun beating down on us but I don’t feel it.
No. Avery Marsh did not just tell me I have a son. A son that she kept from me for—oh my fucking god—fourteen years. A teenager?
My jaw drops, and I want to say so much. Emotion rolls through me. Anger. Rage. Frustration. Resentment.
Disbelief.
“You were on the pill,” I finally eke out.
She nods. “I was. I wasn’t lying to you, Chance. I swear. I don’t know what happened. It had only been a month, and maybe it just didn’t work for me. Or I missed a dose. You had super swimmers. Whatever. I was barely eighteen. And I…”
I rise then, my hands clenched into fists. For fifteen years she left me in the dark about this. “Fuck you. Fuck you and your mother and most of all, fuck my father. Where is he? Where is my son?”
She sobs into her hands. “They moved him to a room.”
“Which room?” I grit out. “Which fucking room?”
She swallows. “Room 506, but he doesn’t know you, Chance, and he’s on meds for the pain, and—”
I walk forward, resentment fueling me, back inside where I stride through the ER and into the main hospital. I find the elevators and wait for one to open. Once it does, I step inside and push the button for the fifth floor.
I’m focused. Determined. I need to see my child.
Holy shit. My son.
Only then do I realize I have no idea what to say to this boy.
I sink my head into my hands, and I do something I haven’t done since Avery left me.
I fucking cry.
The elevator doors open on the fifth floor, and I pull myself together and walk into the pediatrics wing. Nurses and orderlies are bustling around, and I walk through the wing, eyeing each room number.
500
502
504
Then—
506
The door is cracked, and I peek in. Linda sits in a chair by the bed, but from this angle I can’t see the boy.
I step back.
Avery is right. He doesn’t know me. He has a concussion, and the last thing he needs is some stranger storming into his room.
I wipe the sweat from my brow.
And then I leave.
“What do you mean you just left?” Miles demands.
The three of us are at a restaurant having dinner. Rather, they’re having dinner. Even after having burgers, they’re eating again. I can’t. My stomach is rolling with nausea.
“What was I supposed to do? I’m a stranger to the kid. And Avery…” I rake my fingers through my damp hair. Fuck, it’s hot here. Even inside.
“I understand where he’s coming from,” Austin says, poking a piece of broccoli with his fork.
“I fucking don’t,” Miles counters. “That’s your kid in there. And your woman.”
I take a drink of my scotch. It’s a scotch kind of evening. “The kid has a possible brain injury. He doesn’t need a long-lost father showing up.”