Page 87 of Needing to Fall
“He wouldn’t want to know I exist,” I said softly.
We pulled into the drive, and Lynx cut the engine. I didn’t move from the seat.
“He wouldn’t want his wife and kids to know I’m part of him.”
“You don’t know that.”
I raised my brow questioningly at him. “Seriously? You think he wants his wife of thirty-one years to know he stepped out on her when she had kids at home?”
“Babe, dig down deep. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t know what this man would think or feel. You can’t put that judgment on him right know, because you don’t know.” He was right, but I still felt it. “He’s legit, babe.”
“You’re positive?”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “I did something.” He paused as I waited. “I have a friend who owed me a marker.” I knew about those all too well. “I had him get Weston’s DNA.”
“You did what!” I screeched, and it echoed throughout the cab of the truck.
“He didn’t hurt him, just broke into his house and got me some of his hair from a brush and a fork he used to eat with.”
I sat there, flabbergasted. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Nope. I’ve paid my dues and helped many people out. This helps you out, and I’d go to the edge of the earth to help you.”
My heart warmed through the shock.
“I took your hair from your brush and a fork from your breakfast one day and had DNA tests run. Babe, I wasn’t going to tell you any of this if it didn’t come out positive. I wouldn’t put you through that unknown.”
I loved this man more than words could say. He so got me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. “Love you, Reign. Always know that.”
I nodded.
“Got the results back today. Ninety-nine point nine percent positive.”
My knee started bouncing. I couldn’t stop it as the adrenaline started pumping through my veins. My father. My dad. Would he want to know I existed, or would it be better to let it go, like I had with Devin and Drew?
I fought back the wave of darkness that threatened me, keeping it only at my feet. I was strong. I could handle this. Iwouldhandle this.
“Do you want to meet him?” he asked, as if it were every day you found the father you never knew. He was so casual and at ease, and I loved him for it. I needed that. I needed to be reassured that it was going to be all right.
I dug down inside myself. “I do want to meet him, not that it would change anything in my life, but it would be nice to know. Then again, he has a family, and I don’t want to be the cause of problems within it.”
“You can’t put that on yourself. He made those choices. He’ll have to talk with his family. You have every right to meet him.”
I remembered Wrestler McMann and I having this discussion about my mother and her choices. This was the same thing, but it still curled my stomach.
I challenged, “Isn’t that hypocritical, Lynx? I mean, I’m not telling Devin about Drew, because I don’t want it messing up his life; but I do this to Weston Cheeseman’s family?”
“There’s one huge difference, babe.”
I sucked in a breath, knowing in my gut what he would say.
“Your father is alive; Drew isn’t.”
I let out the breath. It sounded as if a balloon was let go, and all the air squealed out of it.
