Page 288 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Before I can return his embrace, Theresa yanks him away from me. My already faltering heart almost breaks when he stares up at Isaac, begging for a snippet of his attention. It does break when Isaac fails to respond to his silent pleas.
When our front door slams shut, my eyes drift to Isaac, who is leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. He's dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, but his standoff demeanor makes the visual not as glorious.
“He's very cute and well-mannered—”
“He isn’t my son, Isabelle, and encouraging him to believe any different will only hurt him in the long run.”
Obviously, my face is showing my pain for Jeremiah.
“Are you sure he isn’t yours?”
Isaac pushes off the doorjamb and strides toward me. His steps are fast and efficient, and they have my pulse quickening. After sitting me on the countertop Jeremiah was sitting on mere minutes ago, he nudges my thighs apart so he can stand between my legs.
“He isn’t my son,” he repeats, his tone nothing but honest. “I had my procedure six years ago, and he isn’t even five. I never had sex without protection, even knowing I’m sterile. The timeframe is wrong for the time I slept with Theresa. Our…affairended in March, he was born in February.”
“Then why is she telling him you're his father? That isn’t fair to him. All he wants is the attention of his dad.”
“Because she knows I won’t fight her paternity claims.”
My brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t you fight them?”
“Because I’d have to give her my DNA.”
My brows furrow even tighter. “Yeah… so?”
He slants his head before cocking his brow. “Give my DNA to one of the most corrupt police officers in the country? Not only would she have it for any criminal activities she wanted to pin on me, but I also have no doubt she’d forge the tests to make it look like I’m Jeremiah’s father.”
He has a valid point. She didn’t even have my DNA, yet she still had me charged with murder.
“Is Jeremiah the reason she got fired from the police force?”
“No.” He halfheartedly shrugs. “Not exactly.”
I arch my brow, requesting further information.
“Theresa is…” He stops talking, unable to articulate a word to describe her.
“A vindictive bitch. Yep, I'm aware of that.”
He snickers. “Yes, that and a few other choice words.”
He steps closer to me until his breath flutters my lips. “She lost her position at Ravenshoe PD because she not only broke into my apartment on several occasions, she also used undercover officers for her personal benefit.”
My interests are immensely piqued, but I remain quiet, waiting for him to elaborate on his answer.
“She placed undercover officers in my clubs under the assumption they were to net me in a drug sting. She falsified documents, so it looked like she was investigating an illegal drug circuit that wasallegedlybeing run by my clubs, all to secure my DNA.”
I blink several times in a row, utterly confused. “What benefit would she get from that? Even if you were arrested, she couldn’t have requested your DNA without a legitimate reason. Drug trafficking isn’t a valid reason for needing DNA unless you were convicted of the crime. But even then, no judge would be eager to sign off on a warrant if you refused to supply your DNA. So putting them undercover was fruitless if her ruse was only to get your DNA.”
He coughs to clear his throat. “The undercover officers were all blonde and under the age of twenty-eight.”
My brows furrow even closer. “I still don’t understand.”
He arches his brow. “They were all attractive andfemale.”
Like the sun rising in the sky, lucidity forms. I swallow to clear the lump in my throat. “Did you… umm… sleep with the undercover officers?”
“No,” he replies with a swift shake of his head. “I have a knack for reading people, and I could tell something wasn’t quite right with them.”
