Holy shit.
Numb legs carry me back toward my living room, where my friends still are. We only intended it as a relaxed gathering with drinks, food, and a game on TV.
My brother, Killian, snaps his eyes to me as if he somehow knows, while his girl, Savannah, leans forward, concern washing across her face.
“Dean?”
But words fail me, my heart pounding inside my chest, so I simply lower the bundle in my arms so they can see what I have.
“Why the fuck are you holding a baby!?” Killian stands abruptly.
“I’m a dad,” I choke, the words like lumps in my throat.
“What!?” Killian snaps loudly.
“She’s mine.”
I should have felt scared many times in my life. Like the time my father beat me so badly I wasn’t sure I was going to survive, or when I watched my brother kill him. I’ve been in situations where bullets are flying, and men are dying but I’ve never been as afraid as I am right now.
The baby moves in my arms, letting out another soft cry.
The room erupts into chaos. My brother rushes closer, his dark eyes wide, as my best friend, Sebastian, reaches over to ease the fabric away from the baby’s face for a better view. His wife, Willow, starts rummaging through her bag as if looking for something.
“How can you be sure?” Killian asks.
“I’m not,” I shake my head.
“Malakai,” Killian turns to our other friend, he’s the head of the criminal organization we all work for. “Can we do something?”
“I’ll arrange a DNA test,” Malakai says stoically, the only one in the room seemingly not panicking at the new addition to the group. Olivia, his wife, watches on, her hand on her own growing baby bump.
“How?” Is all she asks.
“They left her,” I swallow, “On the doorstep.”
“Her mother left her!?” Willow snaps, her attention diverted from her bag for just a second, a look of anger passing over her face.
“What are you looking for?” Sebastian asks her.
“I carry spare clothes and diapers everywhere, always,” She rushes out, “I’m sure they’re in here somewhere.”
“What’s her name?” Savannah asks quietly, running a single finger down the infant’s cold cheek.
The rage from before rears up, snapping my teeth together. “She doesn’t have one.”
“Oh my God,” Savannah clasps her hand across her mouth, tears filling her eyes. Killian wraps an arm around her.
“We’ll figure it out,” He assures me, “We’ll get this fixed, brother.”
“I need to run home,” Willow declares, “I have nothing here.”
“I’ll go,” Sebastian offers, “What do I need to get?”
“How old is she?” Willow asks.
“A few months, if that,” I explain.
“Hope has some clothes she can have; She’s grown out of them now, and we have diapers and formula.” Willow assures me, “Get everything, Bast, we need it!”
