Chapter 15
Tobias
Aaron wipes the foam off his upper lip while staring at me like I have the word ‘dumbass’ tattooed on my forehead and he can’t look away.
“Let me get this straight… Neely is smart, loaded, an excellent mother to your son, sexy as hell, fucking freaky in the sack, and a stripper, too, and you just kicked her out on her ass? Are you fucking crazy?”
“You wanna keep it down? I don’t need the whole town knowing my business. And TJ isn’t my son.” God, that hurts to say, but I have to start preparing myself for the inevitable. Brady is on his way to the Range Bar & Grill to hand me the result personally. What a fucking mess. Either way, after the things I said to Neely, there’s no way she’ll forgive me now anyway.
“You don’t know that,” Aaron argues. “And who says you can’t be his dad?”
“The DNA test…”
“Screw the DNA test, man. Blood is just biology. You’ve been that boy’s dad since the day you hijacked Neely in the hotel parking lot and drove them to Missoula. You change his shitty diapers—God help you, you feed him, you get up in the middle of the night with him, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah?”
“Yeah. Take it from a guy whose own father walked out on him. Those actions make you his protector, his hero, his daddy, not blood, Toby. Pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late.”
“What about Neely? How can I trust her? She kept things from me.”
“Are you serious? She told you that TJ is your son. She let you into her body, man. You said she wanted to talk, but you didn’t let her explain. Let me ask you this, did you tell her about Therese?”
“No.” I’m starting to see Aaron’s point, and I don’t like what I’m realizing.
“Did you tell her Jolie is only a friend and coworker? Manny’s pissed at you, by the way.”
“What? No, and why?” Now I’m confused. What does Manny have to do with anything?
“Because he’s had the hots for her since he met her.”
“Neely?”
“No, dumbass, Jolie! You kissed her in front of Manny and Neely.”
Ah, God, I fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m wondering if I can fix it. I say as much, telling Aaron my doubts.
“Well, I guess you can lay one of those worries to rest because here comes Brady.”
After the waitress brings Brady a beer, he pulls a sealed envelope out of the inner pocket of his coat and lays it in the center of the table.
Working up the nerve, I reach out, placing one blunt fingertip on the envelope and pulling it toward me when the app on my phone that monitors TJ’s SIDs booty lets loose an ear-piercing alarm.