Chapter 9
NINE
At the table, Red was glad to have Frost, Tornado, and Cluster seated around him. Across from him, however, was, more than likely, the titanic shift he’d never wanted in his life, at least not with this woman, a woman he couldn’t even remember.
Fuck me.
His guts twisted, his mouth filling with bile as he swallowed down the roiling nausea burning the back of his throat.
Fuck. What a way for his mistakes to catch up to him.
“Now that we’re all here, explain,” Frost stated pointedly, his ice blue gaze pinned to the woman who’d strutted into the room dressed up like she’d just strutted from a barroom. Tight dress, tits pushed up to her neck, brunette bob perfectly straight and smooth, full makeup on her face, and a belly that was bigger closer up than it had been when he’d first seen it.
The woman, whose name he didn’t know, huffed. “I don’t understand why you are all here when I asked to talk to Redtube.” Her voice was like that first punch of excruciating pain after getting nailed in the nuts with a Major League fastball.
Before the woman at the gate even opened her mouth, Red had texted his prez, his closest friend, and Cluster, just to have someone to punch when necessary. The woman, who was vaguely familiar, had smiled at him as he approached, her manicured hand cradling her obvious baby belly. He had no fucking clue about pregnancy, but she looked to be at least halfway cooked.
Now, seated across from him and his brothers, she didn’t seem as eager to speak as she had at the gate before he’d shut her down. His only words to her were, “Come inside, but I don’t want to hear shit until I’m ready for you to speak.” She’d gasped, pressing her other hand to her throat as though to grasp at invisible pearls, but she’d complied, waiting for Tony Dos to open the gate so she could walk through. She followed behind him as he entered the common room, and strode across the space to the hallway leading to the conference room the club used for non-church business, like chatting with baby-mommas looking for a brother’s patch.
Red answered, “They’re here because I want them here. I have an inkling about what you’re going to say, and I want my brothers here to witness it.” She curled her lips like she tasted something sour, but he only leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Now, speak. I’m guessing you’re here to tell me that,” he tipped his chin to her belly, “is because of me.”
She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin into the air, and narrowed her eyes at him.
“It is. You’re the father, and you’re going to take responsibility for it,” she snapped.
Beside him, Tornado pulled out his phone and began texting someone. Red knew exactly what Tornado was doing because they’d all done it at least once over the last several years. Almost immediately, there was a ping of a return text. Tornado read it and then met Red’s gaze with a single nod.
Good. He needed to get this shit out of the way so he could get back to finding his woman, claiming her, and putting all this bullshit behind them.
“I don’t remember you, I don’t even remember your name, which, I understand, is a byproduct of the lifestyle I’d dedicated myself to for years.” Dropping his hands to the table, he tapped out a rhythm he didn’t know, and asked, “What’s your name? When did we fuck?”
She jerked back at his bluntness, probably expecting him to soften toward her as the mother of his child—or so she claimed. Too many woman had come through the club, claiming to have been knocked up by a brother, and he was no exception. Not once had he failed to suit up before fucking, and sometimes he even made a point to pull out and come on their asses or tits. For him, those instances weren’t about marking them, it was about making sure that predatory gleam in their eyes didn’t fuck up his life.
Learnin’ that lesson a little late, aren’t ya, asshole?
Was this woman sitting across from him one of those, a predator?
“I’m Shannon,” she replied, “and we fucked”—she curled her lips again— “six weeks ago.”
He nodded, acknowledging her answer, but still not getting a fucking recollection of their time together. His gaze dropped to her belly, furrowing his brows. Now…that didn’t seem right.
“Six weeks ago….” He stopped, his mind circling back, and finally, he supplied, “The gym.” Six weeks ago, he’d just gotten off a three-day long dark web dive that had robbed him of sleep, nourishment, and showers. He’d been determined to finish the task for Frost and Tornado, and so he’d put all else on hold. Once he’d given his findings to Frost, he’d headed to the gym, determined to burn off the orange soda and take out Indian food he’d consumed while working. Once he’d gotten to the gym, however, he’d taken one look at a blonde in a tiny pair of shorts and a sports bra, and his cock had quickly reminded him he’d gone without sex for three days—something that was easy enough to remedy. For a moment, he’d thought of Val, his Daisy, since he hadn’t been in their chat room in three days, and he missed her, but thoughts of her faded as the woman led him to the bathroom, pulled his cock out of his gym shorts, and sucked his soul out through his vas deferens.
Thinking back at that now, he realized what an absolute piece of shit he’d been, especially when he remembered that, just four days before that, he’d promised Val he’d wait .
I’ll wait for you, my Daisy… and four days later he was banging Shannon in the gym bathroom…and knocking her up.
Fuck, he was going to puke.
“Yes,” Shannon replied, smiling. “You remember.” At his nod, her smile grew; she thought she had him. “That quickie in the bathroom didn’t just leave me satisfied, it also left me pregnant.”
“Why didn’t you contact him as soon as you found out?” Tornado asked, his expression blank. The man had the emotional palette of a piece of paper—if you didn’t know him.
Shannon shrugged. “I didn’t know if I wanted to tell him…but then my parents found out. They’re determined to marry me off to some rich, old asshole in Poughkeepsie, and I don’t want to do that—I want my baby to have his father.”
As moisture gathered in her blue eyes, Red felt the world jerk to a stop.
His father?
Holy fucking shit! Was it possible? Was this woman carrying his son ?
Shannon rubbed her baby bump, her smile widening as the men in the room followed her movement with their gazes.
Cluster, the fuck, slapped him on the back. “Congratulations, asshole, seems like there’s a new little Unchained brother on the way.”
Suddenly, the room was unmoored, floating through time and space, tumbling him like a loose coin in the laundry.
This couldn’t be happening.
An image of Val’s face flashed into his mind, the fire in her eyes dimming. She wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him if this baby was his…a baby he’d sired right after promising to put her first.
His chest grew tight, his heart racing, as he met Shannon’s calculating gaze. Oh yeah, she was definitely eager to get her claws into him—and what he could provide her as a member of the Unchained.
Silence seemed to rule the room until Tornado’s phone pinged again. He checked it, met Red’s gaze once more, then turned to Shannon.
“You have an appointment at Geisinger in Scranton for a DNA test at 3 PM today,” he recited, his voice flat, but Red could hear the tension beneath the surface—the man was pissed for Red; he’d been the target of a similar instance not even three months ago.
Shannon tensed, the color draining from her face. “DNA test? Why? Redtube is the father—he’s the only man I was with six weeks ago.”
Again, that number didn’t seem to align with the size of her bump, and trying to swallow the idea that he was the only one she’d fucked six weeks ago was like swallowing a hot coal. Shannon had come to the gym looking for a hook up—she’d even told him that once the deed was done and he was putting his cock back in his shorts. If she was that predatory in a goddamn gym, there was no way she hadn’t been wrangling for more strange soon after.
Turning to Frost, Red asked, “When Emily was six weeks, was she that…big?”
Again, Shannon gasped—apparently it was a thing with her. Yes, Red was aware he was being callous in the face of possible parenthood, but in that moment, thinking of the repercussions, of what Val would think, what she would do, what he would lose, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be gentle. He wanted to tear the whole fucking building down to the studs with his bare hands.
Frost turned icy eyes to Shannon, his gaze dropping to her belly, then rising to skim her features. She wasn’t looking at him; her gaze was downcast, staring at the table, her hand on her belly turning white. Her expression was pinched, which told him she did not like the way things were going.
What was she expecting, him to just take her at her word like a fucking idiot? Was she that arrogant that she didn’t think he’d question her?
The moment he’d seen her standing at the gate, he knew how this would playout, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sick at the idea that there was the sliver of a chance that he was the father of her baby.
He just had to be 150% sure, and that took asking the right questions.
His blue eyes glimmering with something almost like sadness, Frost said, “Even with twins, Emily wasn’t that big at six weeks.” His voice carried a heaviness, like he was speaking words of grief.
Seriously, what the fuck was going on with him? Lately, Frost and Emily were like two enemy ships at sea, passing each other with cannons aimed, waiting to fire.
Not the time to think about that!
Frost’s insight was invaluable, but Red couldn’t just take that as gospel, not when the chance that the baby was his was even .001 percent.
Shannon, seeming to snap out of her stupor, rose to her feet, huffing, her lips pursed in an unattractive pout.
She painted a thin finger at him, her expression tight and red. “I can’t believe you’re letting these assholes keep you from claiming your son,” Shannon sneered, her blue eyes on him and filled with calculated anger.
Red shifted in his seat, forcing calm through his body when all he wanted to do was put his fist through the table. Emily would shit a brick, since she’d ordered the table specially for the room. The club queen was all about making the club feel like a home.
“These assholes are my brothers, men I’d kill for, so keep your tongue in your mouth if you can’t speak with respect.”
She opened her mouth to say what the fuck ever, but at his heated glare, she snapped it shut.
“You can understand why I have doubts about that kid being mine. First, I wrapped my shit before I put it anywhere near your snatch. Second, you are obviously further along than six weeks—I’m no pregnancy expert, but you look like you’re comin’ up on six months, not six weeks. Third, unless you can give me a good reason why you can’t get a DNA test, we will end this right here. If that kid is mine, I’ll take responsibility, no question, but I need to see those results with my own eyes. Finally, I’ve got to tell you, taking responsibility for the boy wouldn’t look like you’re thinking it would. There’d be no cohabitation, no you and me getting cozy and playing ‘happy family’, no blank check, spend what you want bullshit, and definitely no scenario where I ever touched you again. If that kid is mine, I’ll open an account for him, from which you can withdraw money for his needs, but every fucking penny would be accounted for. I’ll spend time with the kid, but you and I would never be a couple, do couple things, or act like more than what we are, which is two people who fucked, created a baby, and are making the best of a fucked-up situation.”
As he spoke, he watched her get angrier and angrier, until her whole body was shaking with rage. Huh, guess she didn’t like what she was hearing.
She growled, then spat, “You are unbelievable! I am the mother of your child! I deserve support, respect, and some fucking acknowledgment. Fuck you if you think you can be a part-time dad—our son deserves a family; his mother and his father together for his benefit.”
She said all the right things one would say if they were serious about being a good parent in a tricky situation.
However.
What he heard: I want your patch and the status of being the old lady to an Unchained brother—and all the money and perks that come with it.
Shaking his head, he sighed. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he did what he did best, lurk, locate, unlock, and liberate information.
Beside him, Tornado looked on with a slight smirk on his mouth; he knew exactly what Red was doing. Frost was going to be pissed about Red using club resources so flippantly, but this was fucking life and death—because fuck was he going to live if he couldn’t be with Val because of this fuck up.
Within fifty-two seconds, he was inside the medical records available through the local hospital systems. Everything nowadays was digital, so finding out if your hook up from six weeks ago was actually six weeks pregnant was easy as shit—if you knew where to look and how to get it.
“What’re you doing?” Shannon asked, her voice sharp. “You need to pay attention to me, to the mother of your son. I expect you to step up?—”
“Ugh,” Clusterfuck groaned, “let the man do what he needs to do for his peace of mind. You should want that, too, since, if he’s your baby daddy, you’ll want him to be all in…right?”
She huffed, straightening her back. “Of course, but he should trust me?—”
That made Tornado snort. “Sorry, lady, that’s not happening. Unchained doesn’t trust just anybody—occupational hazard, you understand.”
She planted her hands on her hips and glared at Tornado, then at Red. “Why are you letting them talk to me like that?”
Red didn’t bother answering; he was too busy reading through the list of possible Shannons.
“What’s your last name?” he asked.
She tensed. “Why?”
He sighed. “Just answer the question; it’ll make things smoother, and you want that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a coo meant to disarm. The sooner he knew the absolute truth, the sooner he could get the fuck out of there and find his Daisy.
“Also, shouldn’t the father of your baby know something as basic as your full name?” Cluster asked, the clever bastard.
Again, she huffed. “Fine. My last name is Scanlon.”
Immediately, Red input her name in the search bar, and seconds later her medical records were linked to his phone. Clicking the link, Red went to the most recent entries.
There—Obstetrics.
“What are you doing?” she inquired again, this time attempting to lean over the table and see the phone screen.
As he read, his chest got tighter and tighter, until he finally read the words he’d been looking for.
With as much control as he could muster, he took a slow, deep breath. Placing his phone face down on the table, he met Tornado’s gaze, sending a silent message. Tornado’s steely eyes flashed with rage, though the rest of his expression remained as flat as Florida.
“What?” Frost asked, sensing the tension.
Red cast him a quick speaking glance before finally pinning his gaze to Shannon.
“According to your medical records, you had your first OB appointment twelve weeks ago.”
Her eyes widening, her face going pale, her mouth dropping open in shock, she recovered quickly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m only six weeks, which makes you the father.”
Chuckling darkly, he shook his head and slowly rose to his feet. All six foot three of him glowered down at her. “You visited Dr. Brown at the practice on Morgan Highway twelve weeks ago, where the good doctor confirmed your pregnancy with a urine and blood test. At your appointment ten days ago, he performed an ultrasound, once again confirming the gestational age of your baby.”
Now, Shannon didn’t look so arrogant; her hands were shaking, her eyes flashed with fear, and she was breathing raggedly. Shaking her head jerkily, she stammered, “No-no, you’re lying! You’re the father; the baby is yours.”
God, the woman was either really desperate for his patch or delusional as fuck.
Probably both.
Tapping his knuckles against the table, Red cocked his head, his gaze landing on her baby bump.
That baby wasn’t his, but Shannon was its mother.
Poor, unlucky little boy.
Frost rose to his feet, menace oozing from his massive frame.
“Shannon Scanlon, I don’t take kindly to anyone coming to my home and telling lies about my men.”
“But I’m not lying—he’s the father! Redtube is the father!” the shrill mania in her voice gave Red pause. What the fuck was wrong with this woman? She’d obviously fixated on him.
Shit, this is what he got for being such a dick… with his dick.
Val could never know about this; she’d use it as an example of why his past was an insurmountable issue between them.
Suddenly done with the day, Red turned to Frost and asked, “Can Cluster deal with this? I need to get back to work.”
Shannon gave an indignant shriek and rushed around the table toward him. Cluster got to her before she could get to Red, and she fought against Cluster’s hold on her shoulders.
“Chill out, preggo, don’t want to hurt the baby, do ya?” Cluster remarked, attempting to turn Shannon toward the door.
“I’ll text Tony; he has cleaning duty today,” Frost announced, making Shannon shriek again.
“I’m not going anywhere! Red is my baby’s father—I deserve his patch; I should be his old lady!”
Holy fuck, the woman was crazy as shit.
Not even bothering to look in her direction again, he saluted Cluster, lifted his chin to Tornado, and offered Frost a quick, “Thanks, Prez,” then he strode from the conference room, suddenly in need of a fucking ride.
He had no idea where hell he was going, he just knew he was wound too tightly to sit behind a desk, hopelessly searching for a woman who didn’t want to be found.