Page 122 of Vicious Little Games

He eyes me dubiously, then the paper, staring at the words and numbers on the page before his jaw goes slack.

When Andrew looks up at me again, studying me as if trying to figure out if I’m scamming him or what, I quickly explain to him, “I'm a grown man about to graduate from college, so I'm not asking you for child support. I don’t want any money from you. I just...I guess I just wanted to know your name, who you are. And I thought maybe you would want to know about me. If I'm wrong...”

“I-I-I think I need to sit down,” Andrew mutters as he spins in a circle looking for a chair.

Grabbing a rolling chair from behind the front desk, I push it around to him and he flops his tall frame into it while reading the test results again.

Cass comes up behind me, and whispers, “Worst timing ever.”

“What do you mean?” I ask her since there doesn’t seem to be a perfect time to spring fatherhood on an unsuspecting man.

“Your mom and my dad just got back to town.”

“Oh shit,” I groan. “How do you know? Did they text you?”

“No, they just walked in the front door and spotted us. They’re coming over to us right now.” She nods her head in their direction.

“Fuck.”

“Hey, how was your trip?” Cass asks sweetly as both of us move to stand in front of Andrew and block their view of the stunned man sitting in a computer chair in the front lobby. My father. “Bet you're exhausted, ready to crash.”

“No, it was a very relaxing week,” my mom says as she looks between us and around us to Andrew who, when I sneak a peek at him, slinks from the chair down to the casino floor. Yeah, I think he’s going into shock or some shit.

“Is everything okay? We did worry about you two handling things,” Dante says, slipping his arm around my mom’s waist to pull her to his side.

“Us? We're fine. This place runs like a well-oiled machine,” I tell them.

“The other businesses do too,” Cass adds with a wink. “So why don’t you two go on up and unpack and we'll handle things down here for the rest of the day.”

I can’t help but look back at my father again to see if he’s going to pass out or something. Andrew lifts his face from the results and his eyes bulge at the sight of my mom.

“You...we...wow,” he murmurs as he staggers back to his feet. Then he comes over to my mom and Dante. Not that he notices the imposing mafia king attached at her hip. “You were that beautiful wild girl who came from nowhere one night and then poof, disappeared?” he asks my mother.

“I'm sorry,” Dante says quietly, taking a step between Andrew and my mom. “But who the fuck are you?”

I make the introductions, the sound bizarre coming out of my mouth. “Mom, Dante, this is Andrew Phelps, my, ah, biological father.”

“What?” my mom shouts loud enough for the entire casino to hear her.

“We had one crazy night with two of my friends. You must remember it,” the dummy says around Dante, ignoring the death glare the mobster is giving him. I guess I got all my brains from my mother.

“Of course, she fucking remembers,” Dante says while my mother stands there frozen, staring at Andrew like he’s the ghost of hookups past. “Vanessa was only sixteen when you and your buddies gang banged her and knocked her up!”

“Wow,” I mutter with a look in Cass’s direction. That’s a whole lot of TMI I did not need in my life. I never needed to know that about my mother. And I can tell by the embarrassed blush spreading over her cheeks, and the fact that she doesn’t dispute it, that it’s true. This is why she couldn’t tell me who my father was? He could’ve been any one of those three men in the fraternity she fucked at the same time.

“Let's...let's all just go upstairs and sit down to talk,” Cass suggests.

Turning to Andrew, I tell him, “You can leave if you want. I can put my number on the test results if you want to ever talk. If not, it's cool.” I'm trying to get him out of here before Dante fills his body with bullet holes and I never get a chance to speak to him again.

“It's not cool if you don't,” Cass loudly whispers to the man. “He's your son. And while it's not your fault that you weren't made aware of his existence, you know now. Cole doesn't want any of your money. He just wants to get to know you. If you're worth knowing.”

“I can...I'm supposed to be heading to the airport in the morning,” Andrew responds. “But I'll...I'll reschedule and have my partner cover my appointments so I can stay another day. If you want to talk?”

“That would be great.” I’m immediately filled with an immense relief that he’s not running off. I still take the paper from his hand, jot down my number on the bottom, and return it to him before saying, “I’ll get everyone upstairs and then I’ll be right back down,” I promise him.

Walking away from the man who made me is difficult to say the least.

And the elevator ride up is silent as a graveyard.

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