Page 200 of Between Regrets and Promises

“Well, perhaps she wouldn’t mind giving us some privacy.” Mr. Holt shoots his gaze at me, and I’m appalled by hisdirectness. I already had one man push me around and nearly kill me, and I’ll be damned if I allow him to control me.

Before Mason can respond, I straighten my spine and give him a straightforward smile. “With all due respect, this is my home too. If you wanted privacy, you should’ve called Mason ahead of time and let him know you needed to speak with him instead of coming here unannounced. It’s rude and inconsiderate.” I keep my hands folded in front of me, locking my gaze on him. “However, if you’d like to speak with him in my presence, feel free. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

I steal a glance at Mason who’s standing tall and proud with a wide grin on his handsome face.

Mr. Holt’s jaw clenches with frustration as if he’s expecting Mason to defend him. When he doesn’t, Mr. Holt returns his gaze toward me.

“Sure, cream and sugar.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” I walk into the kitchen, my body shaking with the reality that I spoke that way to the district attorney. I don’t know where it came from, but enough is enough. He’s pushed Mason over and over again and then to come here and act like a total asshole was my limit.

“Have a seat, Dad,” Mason says.

I’m purposely taking my time to give them some privacy but I can still hear them. Hopefully, Mr. Holt will quickly say why he’s here, then leave. “What do you want?”

“I need a favor,” his dad responds with a heavy sigh as if he’s not used to asking anyone for help.

“Really? What kind of favor?”

“I’m in a bit of trouble,” his dad says, which by his defeated tone, he’s nervous to admit.

“Spit it out,” Mason demands, and I can tell he’s anxious. “What do you need fromme?”

“I need you to claim to be the father of a woman who’s pregnant with my baby.”

Everything goes silent as I nearly drop the bottle of creamer I grabbed from the fridge. My heart is pounding so hard, I feel it throbbing in my head.What did his father just say?

Mason starts laughing as if he’s sure he’s heard him wrong too.

“You can’t be serious. Do you ever learn your goddamn lesson?”

“This isn’t funny,” his father snaps. “This involves you more than you realize. If news comes out about the affair, it’ll come back to you.”

“What the fuck? How? Please enlighten me how your wandering dick involves me? Or rather, how about you learn to keep it in your pants for once?” Mason’s tone is sharp and cruel, and I want to go in there and support him. However, I’m not sure I should be in the same room as Mr. Holt at this point because I might junk punch him myself.

“Don’t you talk to me like that, Mason. Remember who pays for this house. Who’s paid your tuition. Who’s gotten you out of murder charges and from going to prison. Without me, your life would’ve been fucked up ages ago, son.”

“Yeah, and you use every chance to throw it in my face, don’t you?” Mason’s voice goes up an octave, and I’m scared shit’s about to go down if I don’t intervene.

“Okay, sorry it took so long…” I say sweetly, carrying a mug, then handing it to Mr. Holt. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Mason sits on one end of the couch, and Mr. Holt is in the old recliner on the other side. Knowing they were about to rip each other’s throats out, I plop down between them.

“He won’t have time to drink it because he was just leaving,” Mason says between gritted teeth.

“Mason…” his dad pleads, setting down his coffee. “If a scandal breaks out and my character is questioned, they could dig into anything they wanted to prove I’m not suitable to be the DA. All of my cases,yourcases. Our family. You, your girlfriend, your friends. Is that what you want? After everything you’ve been through?”

Mason scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through nor have you given two shits about it. You haven’t a clue what it’s been like, so stop acting like you know.”

I don’t want to help Mr. Holt any more than Mason does, but if what he’s saying is true, and it could affect his previous case or our personal lives, I want to know more.

“What would he have to do?” I blurt, directing my gaze to Mr. Holt. “To prevent the scandal,” I clarify. “What would Mason have to do or say?”

“Soph—” Mason starts, but Mr. Holt interrupts.

“Claim that he’s the father of the baby and that any rumors of an affair with me are false. State that he was seeing her before you two got serious, and that he’s taking on the financial responsibility to raise the child. That way it’ll leave me out of it, and no one will go digging, and the baby can still keep the Holt name,” he answers as if he rehearsed it.

“You’re crazy,” Mason huffs. “I’m not putting Sophie through that, and I’m not lying for you. This is too far.”

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