Chapter 19 #3
I didn’t have a reply, so I remained silent.
Solana should’ve been an afterthought now that I didn’t have to see or deal with her every day.
That shit didn’t stop me from watching her ass on the cameras during the majority of my free time.
Whenever I had a moment where my eyes didn’t have to be on swivel, I planted them bitches on my phone.
Solana was in bad shape, but it wasn’t enough for me to show up at Jisei’s townhouse.
I needed to steer clear and let her battle that shit.
I grunted, finally acknowledging what my mother said. “I thought they said men go after women that are like their mothers? Must’ve meant fathers.”
“Shio. She is not your father. I can see that clear as day too. Give it time.”
“What if I don’t want to give it time?”
“Then you let her go. But make sure you make peace with that before you do it. She seems to be just as stubborn as you.”
I kissed my teeth quietly before switching gears. “How is it you bring up Solana but not my child’s mother?”
“How come you ain’t brought up your child’s mother?” We stared at each other, the silence loud and telling. “Exactly. Now, come on. We now got thirty-five minutes to eat, and you still have to park.”
Staring at the PDF on my phone screen, my thumb hovered over the bolded word “inconclusive” as the doctor explained why a third DNA test would be needed.
I’d already cussed his ass the fuck out because I’d told him I wasn’t making Shya go through another fucking test. Baby girl was already traumatized from all the bullshit in Mexico and living somewhere she was unfamiliar with.
Now, he wanted me to bring her back to the hospital to draw more blood because the results couldn’t verify that I was her father.
He ran down multiple reasons for the yielded results, but he was sure there was some type of contamination or insufficient DNA collected since Shya had acted as she had during the blood drawing.
After my mother ran up a tab in Hermès, getting a bag, sandals, and accessories, I was expecting to get some good news when I saw the lab calling.
Spending the five figures on my mother had put a smile on my face that I was hoping would continue throughout the day.
I just knew I was going to open his emailed document and see that I was the father and the test was 99. 9% sure.
I was ready to let my mother meet Shya after spending time with her since learning I was possibly a father.
I was ready for my family to love on her so that I would feel okay about loving on her too.
Shya needed family, and I was ready to share mine with her so she could warm up to being the newest Cuppacio in Jagoda Bay.
I couldn’t do any of that until I knew for sure that my blood ran through her little veins.
“An inconclusive DNA test simply means the results didn’t give us a clear answer.
While it doesn’t happen often, it does happen more times than you could imagine, Mr. Cuppacio.
Shya was upset. With her mother working with one arm and you and she holding her down, and the technician trying not to overstep boundaries while the phlebotomist drew the blood, it is my belief that the sample was either too small or contaminated from the start.
It could also mean that the technology couldn’t analyze certain genetic markers well enough to give a definite answer. ”
“So what other options do we have, Doc? You sayin’ the collection process is causin’ the results to be faulty… I can’t make the little girl sit still for the fuckin’ test.” I could feel a headache brewing and tried to steady my breathing.
“I understand your frustration—”
Attempt failed.
“Doc, I pay you—and not just crumbs—I pay you big fuckin’ bucks.
Ion need you to understand my frustration.
I need to know if this little girl is my child.
Ion know why the fuckin’ technician didn’t take more dan one fuckin’ sample!
She was so busy tryna get my info, so I could ram my dick down her throat dat she couldn’t even focus on doin’ her fuckin’ job! ”
I could feel the nigga jump through the phone, so I dialed it back, rubbing my temple after swiping out of my Gmail app.
“Check it, I have a child under my roof that has a fifty percent chance of being mine, and I’m holdin’ back from being a damn daddy cuz I’ve trusted you, not once but twice, to first confirm I’m the daddy!
I could’ve gone to any DNA center in the city and had some answers by now.
Probably could’ve gotten my shit back the same day.
Fuck, I coulda done the over-the-counter shits at this point. ”
“None of those are one hundred percent accurate, sir. They are all gimmicks and money grabs.”
“From the looks of it, your lab is too.”
“I’m going to get this right, Mr. Cuppacio. Just give us one more—”
Disconnecting the line, I granted myself entry into my home.
I was done listening to his ass, and beyond irritated that I still didn’t have the information I needed about Shya being my child.
I usually kept a level head, but I was no saint.
I was bound to go off on somebody since I’d been up to my neck with bullshit for weeks.
Sliding my shoes off in the foyer, I placed them on the wooden shoe rack and padded through the house barefoot.
The housekeepers hadn’t come this week, but the house was spotless.
Bahati was like me in that way. She kept the house spick and span, and although I didn’t need her to, I appreciated the gesture.
It was late, nearing ten o’clock, so Bahati wasn’t standing over the stove.
Instead, she was nursing a glass of wine with her good arm.
The silk robe she wore hung lazily off her shoulder, covering a matching nightgown.
It was a mix of sexy and comfy, with lace lining the curve of her breast. As soon as she noticed I was in the kitchen, her nipples did as well.
She’d been complaining about her arm itching in the cast, so a wire hanger sat on the counter next to her elbow.
I knew she was using it to scratch against the doctor’s wishes.
He’d prescribed her some anti-itch pills that I had gotten for her days ago, but they mustn’t have been working as well as they should have.
If his ass didn’t get this DNA shit right, he was going to need the itch pills and every other pain medication for his damn self to heal from the bullets I was going to riddle his ass with.
The only reason why I was dealing with him to begin with was that he was vetted with the mob, and with how much illegal shit we did on a daily basis, we needed to be under the radar with everything, including DNA tests.
I especially didn’t need my DNA floating in anyone’s database now that the city’s police were sniffing around according to Don.
There was no telling what body or crime scene it could be linked to, even though I knew I’d been careful with everything I’d ever done over the last twenty years.
I knew I had to let the nigga do his job, I just didn’t know if I could stomach making Shya let another technician swab inside her mouth or draw more blood from her little arm.
“You’re home early.” She placed the wine glass on the countertop and pulled her robe closed.
Bahati’s attire had been getting raunchier by the day.
The shorts were damn near panties, and the gowns were classy versions of lingerie.
Still, I steered clear. Busting a nut right now was nothing but temporary satisfaction, and I didn’t need temporary—I needed indefinite.
Without the DNA results on Shya, I wouldn’t be able to trust myself to make lifelong decisions, including sticking my dick in Bahati.
I didn’t have much more time to pick a wife between her and Solana, but my mental was exhausted, and I was tired of fucking thinking at this point.
And that’s some shit I never thought I would feel.
Before the doctor fucked up my head with the inconclusive results, I’d been having a good day.
I ended up hitting a couple of blocks while my mother got her hair done.
When she was finished, she insisted I come inside to see all of the ladies in the salon, many of them members of the church.
The owner’s mom was on the motherboard and was fine as hell, but she was a married woman, so all she got was a smile from me because I didn’t do those.
The very taken women, smiling in my face, turned into women who’d gotten their hair done on my dime.
That was twelve women’s hair services I’d dropped a bag on just because my mama suggested I do so.
I had even given the three stylists hefty tips.
It felt good seeing women happy, and when we got back to my mama’s house, I drank a glass of Scotch with the pastor and chilled with them until both of them began to yawn.
After spending a full day with my mama, I didn’t want to see a brick, dirty money, or Hobo’s ass, for that matter.
Shannon was pure, and after being in her space all day, my sins felt nonexistent.
I felt clean, and I didn’t want to taint that, so I decided to take it to the crib for the night.
I still felt uneasy pulling up to my house knowing Bahati and Shya were inside.
I went from feeling guilty about the kidnapping to feeling suspicious about everything every thirty seconds.
The shit was draining me. I’d questioned Bahati numerous times about the day she was abducted to ensure her answers wouldn’t falter, and no matter how I rearranged my questions, her answers stayed the same.
From the looks of it, Bahati truly could’ve been a casualty, but my brain needed a clear pathway to see things as they were—to see things beyond what they appeared to be.