CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Maybe the hormones are making me ragey, but I can’t remember the last time I was so furious.
And kind of skeeved out. I like to think I’m not judgmental, but four of them might possibly be the father? Really?
I held it together at the clubhouse to reassure the guys that everything would be okay. Now that it’s just the two of us, I can’t stop thinking about the audacity of that woman.
As soon as we’re inside the house, Rock stops and faces me. He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear. “What’s going on in your head? Tell me.”
“Honestly?”
He sighs. “Yeah.”
“That your brothers are kinda disgusting.”
He laughs.
And laughs.
“And I don’t like judging other women’s sexual choices, but jeez.” I actually shiver with disgust.
When Rock stops laughing, he takes my hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” His jaw tightens. “I heard some of what Adam said to you. This is embarrassing—”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’m still pissed with Adam too.”
“You don’t know how close I came to choking him.”
I cock my head. “How much did you overhear?”
“Enough. But when I realized where it was coming from, I decided not to kill him.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “When you read the papers, it sounds like you’re married to a fucking sleaze.”
Now I feel guilty for calling his brothers disgusting.
I reach up and hook my arms around his neck, dragging him into kissing range. “You know that’s not how I feel about you, right?”
He grabs my hips, holding me against him. “I heard you,” he rasps, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against mine. “Love you so much.”
“Good.” I kiss his cheek and take a step back before we get sidetracked. “Let me call that guy right now.”
Rock opens his eyes and stares at me. “Now? Seriously?”
I trail my fingers down his chest and play with the edge of his T-shirt. “I have this insatiable urge to claim my man.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“So that’s what we’re going to be doing for the rest of the evening. Once I get this call out of the way.” I glance at the kitchen. “I’d go down some fluids right now if I were you. Can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”
He rumbles with laughter and sets me free. “Hurry. I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.”
“Pants off.”
“Cock out.”
I chuckle as I slowly work my way upstairs into my sitting room. I don’t bother closing the door, it’s not like I have to worry about confidentiality on this one.
So much for stepping back from my legal career.
I flip through pages of the lengthy petition until I find the phone number for Davis and Rich, PLLC.
“May I speak with Jim Davis? This is attorney Hope Kendall.”
I’ve never heard of this attorney or his law firm before, but that’s not so unusual. Empire’s bursting at the seams with attorneys.
“Attorney Kendall, thank you for calling. I assume you received my petition.”
“Yes. What is this nonsense?”
His mocking laughter only pisses me off more.
“Ms. Kendall,” he says in that male-lawyer-condescending tone that reminds me why I hate lawyers so much. “I get that you want to fight for your clients and all, but you’re aware they’re part of a motorcycle gang, right? Most likely one of the named men is the father of my client’s baby.”
Now it’s my turn to do the laughing. “One of those “named men” is my husband, Mr. Davis, I’m guessing Miss March didn’t bother to tell you that, did she?”
The long pause on the other end is all the answer I need. “That’s what I thought.”
“Well, the court will order them to take the test. I can find several witnesses who will testify she had a relationship with one or more of the respondents—”
“Oh, let me save you the trouble, Mr. Davis. I’m well aware of my husband’s past relationship with your client. All of my respondents are more than willing and ready to submit to a DNA test as soon as possible.”
By the sputtering on the other line, he obviously expected a fight.
Inga must be either dumber or crazier than I thought. Who knows what she told this guy.
“Your husband too?”
“He has no problem taking the test. The sooner, the better.”
“Well, it has to be a court-approved testing facility,” he says in a snotty tone.
“You choose the facility and I’ll have my guys there.”
“Okay. Then we need to talk about support—”
“Hang on, if one of my clients fathered that child, you won’t need to worry about child support. You’ll be preparing for a custody case and perhaps a parental alienation suit as well—”
“My client’s a resident of California,” he blurts out, cutting me off.
I probably shouldn’t threaten things I haven’t researched in a while, but I’m too pissed to stop myself now. “Who hid the existence of a child from his father. She can live on Mars for all I care. She doesn’t get to keep the father out of the child’s life all this time and expect to waltz in with her hand out looking for a paycheck while still withholding visitation.”
“Well,” he says, backpedaling. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Yes, let’s.” I call up my own mocking lawyer voice. “Also, let me be clear with you, this testing will be expensive. If it turns out that none of them are the father, which I’m pretty confident will be the case, I’m going to file a motion for costs and fees—”
“Just so you know, I’m a fantastic divorce attorney—in case your husband ends up being the father.”
I don’t even know what the guy looks like, but I can picture his slimy, smug smile.
It’s amazing steam doesn’t shoot out of my ears, but somehow I keep my cool. “That won’t be necessary. I can round up plenty of witnesses who will testify she concocted this paternity test nonsense out of spite for losing her job due to her drug addiction.”
He sputters for a few minutes before recovering enough to lob one final zinger. “I think we both know given her occupation and the candidates’ lifestyles, there’s a good chance we’re going to win.”
I’m too angry to be offended on behalf of anyone at his ridiculous comment. Underneath my outrage, there’s an undeniable confidence lurking. I trust Rock with my whole heart.
My voice is cool and full of conviction when I answer, “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
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