Page 15 of Second Shot

“Brynne.” Her name is a low growl that comes from somewhere deep in my throat. “Is. He.Mine?”

Her only response is a small nod. It’s enough. I have myanswer.

“Jesus Christ, Brynne.” I drag both hands through my hair.I have a kid. But as much as a mentalfuck as that is, what’s even more disturbing is that she kept it from me. “You weren’t going to tellme?”

“I was. Ijust…”

It’s a lie. I can hear the truth in her voice. She’s always been a shittyliar.

I cup the back of my head, pulling at my hair, needing something to do with my hands so I don’t throttleher.

“Does your dadknow?”

“No.”

Fuck. When Coach finds out, he’s going to have a goddamn aneurysm. Then he’s going to kill me. Or her. Maybe both ofus.

“God, Brynne. What were youthinking?”

“Don’t put all the blame onme.”

“That’s not what I meant. You had my kid and you didn’t tell me. I don’t care how much you hate me. That’s pretty messedup.”

My anger seems to have sparked her own. I can see it in her eyes even before she opens her mouth tospeak.

“Maybe I should have toldyou-”

“There’s no maybe. He’s my kid. I deserved toknow.”

The baby lets out a rattlingcry.

Brynne rocks him, and I can see the tears gathering in her eyes. “Stopyelling.”

“I’m not yelling,” I say loudly, before taking a deep breath, and lowering my voice. “But I have every rightto.”

“Why? Because you want this? You want to be a father? God, Kane, look at your life.” She juts her chin out, still glaring at me despite the tears that now stream freely down her cheeks. “You know we’re better off withoutyou.”

Her words are worse than any physical blow. I’ve taken a lot of shit from her over the years, but this tops itall.

“I’m so fucking tired of being the villain in your head. I’m not the monster you think I am,Brynne.”

She presses her lips to the baby’s forehead and clenches her eyes shut. I know what she’s doing, what she’s always done around me. She’s closing her eyes to who I am so that she doesn’t have to see thetruth.

The baby keeps crying, and something in my chest tightens. I want to hold him. To protect him. To be the father hedeserves.

And I will be. Whether she likes it ornot.

“He’s my son, Brynne. Iwillbe in his life.” It’s not just a promise, it’s ademand.

Her eyes open, and for a long tense moment she holds my gaze as if searching for something. Whatever it is, I don’t think she finds it, because she shakes herhead.

“He’s hungry. I have to go.” She starts toturn.

“Wait,” I growl out, before she has the chance to dart away. I don’t want to let her –them– go, because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll never see them again. “You didn’t tell me hisname.”

“Noah.” She exhales shakily before adding, “NoahSamuel.”

My chest squeezes. “It’s a goodname.”

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