Page 11 of Infected By Virus

There was no shouting on her part or anger, just an old wound that still wasn’t scabbed over. A wound he’d given her. That thought deflated him and he sank back down on the sofa and downed more glasses of scotch. He wasn’t even sure how many, but he was definitely starting to feel it.

“Do you guys mind giving us a minute?” He was knocked out and he never even stepped in the ring. Rae wasn’t there to reconcile, and that made him reach straight for the bottle and bypass the glass.

Rae sat back down too. All but his Prez and vice left the common area. Wall Street raised his beer to her as he passed, and she gave a grin. A fucking grin, like they had an inside joke. But when she turned her attention back to him, all traces of the smile were gone.

“He’s the Monty Python fan,” she mumbled to herself. While he heard the words not intended for him, he didn’t have a clue what they meant. Rae had always been obsessed with Monty Python.

Before Santa retreated, Outlaw whispered something to Zombie and his eyes widened and landed on Rae, and then him before he nodded. Zombie said something to Santa and he scurried off.

Within seconds, Squatch and Hook returned but hung back with his Prez.

The three of them lingered by the pool table, while Outlaw stepped closer and parked his ass on a barstool within earshot. Had it been another member he would’ve protested, but since it was his vice, he zipped his lips.

His attention pulled away from the eavesdropper. “Sorry, that’s about as private as it’s gonna get.”

He couldn’t stop drinking her in. She was even more captivating than she was in his memories. His hands itched to touch her.

Finally, Rae’s sweet voice broke the stare down.

“Do you always drink like this?” she inquired in a soft tone. More concern than judgment laced her words.

“Only when I think of you.” He took another swig. “So, yeah. I guess so.” It wasn’t all true. He didn’t drink all day and night, just when the pain got to be too much.

“Anyway, I have some things to tell you, and they are going to come as a shock.”

He could’ve sworn she mumbled something about her too, but he wasn’t sure. The combination of seeing Rae and fine single malt had his head swimming.

She reached for the folder and Outlaw came into their little tête-à-tête.

“Alaine? Hi, we met briefly in the office, but I saw you … at the diner earlier.” He halted as if he almost said something else but pulled back. “Do you mind if I join you? I may be of some help to Darrin. I’m an attorney.”

It took Virus’s brain a while to sort through the scene. Outlaw had called him by his birth name and announced he was a lawyer. Not to mention when he’d done so, Rae looked relieved.

“Yes, um, Outlaw,” she agreed. “Please.”

She even sounded relieved too.

“You can call me Brad if you prefer.”

Whoa. How much scotch had he had? Brad?

“What the fuck is going on?” He could tell he was starting to talk in cursive already. Fuck. He needed—wanted—a clear head for however much time he had with her. But it was too late, that ship had sailed and probably hit a fucking iceberg already.

Rae pulled some squares from the folder and extended them toward him. Virus set his drink down and took them.

“There is no delicate way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it.” She took a heavy breath. “You have a son.”

Virus’s gaze landed on the first picture and it was like looking into a mirror, just one that was decades in the past. He could tell Rae had taken the picture. He didn’t know how, he just could.

Wait.

He was looking at his child.

Her words penetrated the alcohol fog. “I have a son?” He spoke with wonder.

He shared a son with the woman he loved. It was like a dream.

“His name is Adam, and he’s absolutely adorable. My?—”

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