“I know.” Dad’s voice is oddly gentle. “But it’s not just the fighting, Reed. You’ve got a temper. You—” He stops when the door swings open and Grier appears.
“I just got off the phone with the ADA,” Grier says in a tone I can’t decipher. Confused, maybe? “The lab results from Brooke’s autopsy came back this morning.”
Dad and I both straighten our shoulders. “The DNA test on the baby?” I ask slowly.
Grier nods.
I take a breath. “Who’s the father?”
And suddenly I’m…afraid. I know there’s zero chance of me being that kid’s father, but what if some corrupt lab tech rigged the results? What if Grier opens his mouth and announces—
“You are.”
It takes me a second to realize he’s not talking to me.
He’s talking to my dad.
23
Reed
Silence crashes over the study. My father is gaping at the lawyer. I’m gaping at my father.
“What do you mean, it’s mine?” Dad’s tortured eyes are fixed on Grier. “That’s not possible. I had a…”
Vasectomy, I finish silently. When Brooke announced her pregnancy, Dad was certain the baby couldn’t be his, because he’d gotten snipped after Mom had the twins. And I was certain it couldn’t be mine, because I hadn’t slept with Brooke in more than half a year.
Looks like only one of us was right.
“The test confirmed it,” Grier answers. “You were the father, Callum.”
Dad swallows hard. His eyes glaze over a bit.
“Dad?” I say tentatively.
He stares at the ceiling as if it’s too painful for him to look at me. A muscle in the back of his jaw flexes, and then he shudders out an unsteady breath. “I thought she was lying to me. She didn’t know I’d had the vasectomy, and I thought…” Another breath. “I thought, it had to be someone else’s.”
Yeah. He decided it was mine. But I can’t blame him for reaching that conclusion. He’d known about me and Brooke, so of course the thought had entered his mind. I guess the other thought—that it could actually be his—never did.
Sympathy ripples through me. Dad might’ve hated Brooke, but he would’ve been a good father to her kid. The loss has to be killing him.
He inhales heavily before finally looking my way. “I…ah, do you need me here or can you handle the rest of the meeting on your own?”
“I can handle it,” I answer gruffly, because it’s obvious he can’t handle a damn thing at the moment.
Dad nods. “All right. Shout if you need me.”
His legs don’t appear to be steady as he leaves the room. There’s a beat of silence, and then Grier speaks up.
“Are you ready to continue?”
I nod weakly.
“All right. Let’s talk about Ella O’Halloran.” He shuffles through the endless fucking pile of papers and pulls out another set. “Ella O’Halloran, formerly known as Ella Harper, is a seventeen-year-old runaway who was found masquerading as a thirty-five-year-old and stripping in Tennessee just three months ago.”
Has it only been three months? I feel like Ella’s been a part of my life forever. Anger begins to pound at my temples. “Don’t talk about her.”
“I’m going to have to talk about her. She’s part of this case whether you like it or not. In fact, Harvey said you brought her along to some of the fights. She was unfazed by the blood.”
“What’s your point?” I repeat through gritted teeth.
“Let’s go through a few more statements, shall we?” He holds up a document and jabs it. “Here’s one from Jordan Carrington.”
“Jordan Carrington hates Ella’s guts.”
Grier once again ignores my comments. “‘We invited Ella to come try out for the dance team. She showed up wearing a thong and a bra, prancing through the gym. She has no shame and even fewer morals. It’s an embarrassment. But for some reason Reed likes this. He was never like this until she came along. He used to be decent, but she brings out the worst in him. Whenever she’s around, he’s extra mean.’”
“That is the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Jordan taped some freshman girl up to the side of Astor Park’s walls, and I’m extra mean? Ella didn’t change me one bit.”
“So you’re saying you were prone to violence even before Ella came along.”
“You’re twisting my words,” I spit out.
He laughs harshly. “This is a cakewalk compared to what a trial will be like.” He throws down Jordan’s statement and picks up another. “This is from Abigail Wentworth. Apparently you two were dating until you hurt her. Question: ‘How do you feel about Reed?’ Answer: ‘He hurt me. He hurt me really bad.’”