Page 65 of Wild Card (The Trident Trilogy 3)

Millie, Virginia Beach, Virginia, 2020

When I get off the plane, I walk directly to the visitor’s lot. Dad’s leaning up against his car. I drop my bag and run to him. I’m surprised I don’t knock him over when I crash into his arms. My arms wrap around his neck tightly as he pulls me to him.

“I never stopped being your dad,” he whispers. “No matter what anyone said. I’ve been your dad from the very beginning.”

“I know.” I’m crying again. My hormones are so whacked out. I’m like a week late for my period, too, and that rarely happens.

“I’ve got something I want to show you,” he says, kissing my forehead before he reaches into his car and pulls out some papers. “It’s the paternity test I did on you when you were a baby.”

“Dad,” I say, taking a step back. “I don’t need to see that.”

“I know you don’t need to,” he says firmly, “but I want you to look at it anyway.”

“No,” I say, swatting the paper away from me. “How do you even still have those results? Chase told me after he thought you died, he got rid of most of your stuff.”

“I always carried this with me in my wallet—even on missions. It never left me. That’s why it’s so torn up.”

“Why did you carry it?” I say, narrowing my eyes. “So you could prove I belonged to you?”

“No, no one ever asked that. It’s just,” he says and then stops for a minute, looking down. “You know, I wasn’t there when you were born. And even though I knew you were mine from the second I saw you, getting these results was like you being born for me. I don’t know. When I look at this piece of paper, I guess I feel like some people feel when they look at those pictures of their baby when it’s still in the mom—”

“A sonogram?”

“Yeah, that. That’s what this piece of paper feels like to me. Does that make sense?”

I nod, smiling at him. “Yeah, but I told you, I don’t need proof. I know I’m yours.”

“Millie, it’s important to me that you see the results—”

“But I don’t need to, Dad.”

“Sweetie, do you remember what I used to do back in the day when you didn’t want to do your homework?” Dad raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly like he always did right before he launched a surprise attack on me when I was growing up.

I take a step back. “Uh, you would bribe me with strawberry ice cream?” I say hopefully.

“Not that one.” He takes a step toward me. “The more direct method I used.”

“Yeah.” I laugh as I take another step back. “You would put me in a headlock and force me to study.”

He shakes his head. “I did not put you in a headlock. I merely put my arm around you while I lovingly encouraged you to complete your assignments.”

I roll my eyes. “So what, if I don’t look at the results, you’re going to put me in a headlock and force me? You know I’m a lot stronger than I used to be.”

“Still the same amount of stubborn though,” he says, grinning at me as he leans against the car. He motions for me to join him. “Why don’t you do this without a fight so you won’t hurt your old dad?”

I shake my head and lean next to him. “Fine,” I say with all the drama I can muster.

He opens up the test results and points to the line that reads “The probability of paternity is 99.9999%.”

I look up at him. “Well, there’s still a .0001 chance that I don’t belong to you, so we might as well say goodbye now.”

He grabs me into a gentle headlock. “Nope, there’s not a chance you got that sarcasm from anyone but me.”

I take a deep breath as I relax onto his chest. “When you first saw the results, were you happy?”

“I knew you were my daughter the first time I saw you. The test was just a formality.”

“No, but I mean, you weren’t expecting to hear you had a baby. Was the test being positive a good thing?”

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