“Yeah, buddy,” I murmur, putting him on his feet and taking his hand. “Let’s go see if Uncle Whip is here. He’s your daddy’s brother.”
“Daddy,” he says excitedly. He’s seen pictures of his dad; I’ve made sure of it. I’d save them from going in the trash one day when Emilia had been going on a rampage. That should have been my first clue something wasn’t right with her. I remember her mom and dad talking when we were kids that she needed to get help, but Emilia’s dad wouldn’t hear of it, said there wasn’t anything wrong with her a belt couldn’t cure.
With Lincoln’s hand in mine, the two of us trek up to the house and up the stairs onto the porch. I suck in a deep breath and knock on the door. A moment later the door flies open, and I come face to face with not Whip but the man I’ve always been in love with.
“Isaac.” His name whispers off my lips before I can stop myself, and now I’m more nervous than ever.
Chapter Seven
Venom
Hearing Amaya whisper my name sends a shock straight to my dick. Now’s not the time for shit like that. In fact, no time that involves this woman standing in front of me is a good time.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “Actually, explain to me what the hell is going on here?”
My gaze switches between her and the little boy holding her hand.
“Daddy,” the little boy says, looking up to me with a smile, and I’m stunned by the words he’s just spoken.
Oh fuck.
“Is he who I think he is?” I snarl.
“What’s going on, brother?” Whip asks, coming around the corner. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him still and then hear him curse.
“Um, can you not curse in front of Lincoln?” Amaya asks quietly.
What the fuck?
“Brother, let them in. Don’t need this shit happening on the porch. Plus, the kid seems to be doing some sort of dance with his legs crossed like he’s about to piss himself,” Whip mutters his suggestion. I don’t miss Amaya releasing a breath of relief.
“Potty . . . Potty,” the little boy Amaya called Lincoln says.
Stepping back, fury rolls through me. I’m confused as to why she’s here and everything else. I don’t get what the hell is going on. Why didn’t I know I had a kid?
One that looks to be around three years old.
“Can you show me where the bathroom is and I’ll help him really quick?” Amaya utters quietly. Fuck, I forgot how sweet her voice could be when she speaks.
“Yeah, it’s the first door on the left,” Whip grunts, pointing down the hall.
“Thank you,” she murmurs with a nod.
“No problem, sweetheart, take your time,” he says gently.
Why the hell is he being nice to this woman?
Amaya circles around me giving me a wide berth and heads to the bathroom with Lincoln in tow.
My gaze follows her until the door closes to the bathroom and I turn to face Whip. “That’s my kid,” I mutter.
“No shit. He looks like you,” Whip grunts.
“I don’t know why I didn’t know about him,” I say, lifting a hand to run it through my hair.
“Could his mom have tried to tell you? Maybe it was in one of those letters you didn’t want,” Whip says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t fuckin’ know, but it’s not like his mom couldn’t have found another way to tell me I have a kid,” I sneer, regretting the decision I made to not open any of the letters.
“My question is, where is his mom? I know it’s not Amaya, though I will mention it’s a shame you never tapped that when you had the chance,” he grins. “Woman always had her eye on you when she’d been around us.”
Fuck.
I don’t need this shit.
“You know what, with her here, maybe I could see what she’s like. You know what I mean?” If he didn’t stop fuckin’ around Whip is gonna see my fist in his face.
“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it, Whip. This shit is fucked enough as it is,” I grumble.
“Seems that way, Venom.” He nods and doesn’t say another word when we hear the bathroom door open and Lincoln’s voice rambling a mile a minute. Fuck, I’ve got a kid.
Sighing, I gotta come to terms with that.
But why the hell is he with Amaya and not Emilia? Is he the reason she’s been calling me constantly?
Could Amaya have stolen him from his mom?
Motherfucker. I don’t need or want to deal with this stuff but glancing down at the little boy who enters the room holding Amaya’s hand, I realize I don’t have a choice.
The kid is mine and I’ve never been one for games and it seems right now I’ve been played. Now I’m finding out I’ve had this prize for the longest time without realizing it.
Damn.
I lift my gaze from the little boy to Amaya, taking in her jet-black hair she’s wearing pulled into a braid hanging over one of her shoulders. The golden caramel color of her skin beckons to be touched. Upon further inspection of her face, I notice the dark circles under her eyes like she’s not been sleeping. This makes me want to ask her why.
There’s always been this thing about Amaya that drew my attention to her, but I never understood why. I barely remember her speaking to me. Shit, the first time I’d seen her had been the night I met Emilia. She’d been standing at a table by herself. I’d intended to approach her but never got the chance to. I’d gone to get a beer from the bar with the intention of heading to her table to talk to her. But then Emilia came up to me soon after I sat on a stool and started charming me with her radiant smile. Of course, I’d been a fool in allowing her to become my snake charmer.
Shit.
If
