Just Like That (The Kings)

I had been staring at the envelope for eleven minutes.

Its crisp white edges and the Remington County DNA Diagnostic Center stamp stared back at me.

Whatever was inside that envelope would change everything.

Or maybe it changed nothing?

Fuck, I don’t know.

My hand scraped against my jaw as my stomach bunched. My palms were sweaty and my neck was hot.

“They’re here!” Teddy’s elated shouts rang through the house as he dashed toward the front door.

Hazel’s hands had been shaking when she had gotten the mail and showed me the letter. Quietly, we’d both agreed that opening it in front of Teddy was a bad idea. She’d called Sloane, explained the situation, and asked if the twins would be up for an ice-cream cone. Thankfully, Sloane was more than happy to entertain Teddy for a little while so we could open the letter and read the results.

Teddy was still in his school clothes—a gingham shirt with a navy bow tie and jeans. In the mirror by the door, he straightened his tie and gave himself an approving nod.

My chest squeezed.

When he pulled open the door, the noise expanded with Ben and Tillie talking over each other to say hi to Teddy. Without so much as a backward glance, he was gone.

I hung back, still staring at the envelope, as Hazel thanked Sloane. My sister-in-law leaned in to give Hazel a quick hug and offered me a tiny wave before she left.

Hazel walked back toward me, her eyes trained on the envelope in front of me.

We stood, shoulder to shoulder, and she sighed. “Are you ready?”

It didn’t matter if I was ready or not. Whatever truth that lay within that envelope wouldn’t change. It didn’t care about my feelings.

Without a second thought, I ripped open the envelope and unfolded the papers.

My eyes scanned, searching for the words I was looking for.

Beside me, Hazel sucked in a breath and whispered, “I don’t understand.”

My eyes fell to the words she had read.

Probability of Paternity: 0%

I stared at the zero like a black hole sucking me in.

“What does that—but . . . how?” Hazel’s voice cracked and my heart cracked alongside it.

I read the paper aloud. “The alleged father, John Pierce King, is excluded as the biological father of the tested child, Theodore Adams. Although paternity is excluded, there is a significant number of shared alleles between John King and Theodore Adams across multiple loci. This suggests a close biological relationship, but is not consistent with a father-child relationship. Probability of paternity: 0%.”

Hazel shook her head. “I don’t understand all of the science words.” She snatched the paper from my hands. “What is it even saying?”

Despite the panic rising in her voice, mine was painfully cold. “Keep reading.”

Hazel’s worried eyes flicked back to the paper as she continued reading, “Probability of paternity: 0%. However, the relatively high number of shared alleles may indicate that John King is a close relative, such as a half sibling (sharing one biological parent), to Theodore Adams.”

The pit in my stomach expanded with every word she read aloud.

“JP?” She was on the brink of tears. “What does this mean?”

Frustration got the better of me. My head snapped up, and sharp words were on my tongue. “It means I’m not his father. I’m his . . .” I could barely say it. “I’m his fucking brother.”

I watched in horror as I witnessed the ghost of another life in her eyes.

Another life where the letter confirmed I was Teddy’s father and we laughed. Where I scooped her up and hugged her as we excitedly planned how to tell Teddy the incredible news.

But that life was gone.

He had taken that from me.

My spine was steel and my steps wooden and I reached for the envelope. It crumpled in my fist as I strode to the door.

“Wait. JP!” Hazel called after me, but I didn’t stop. “Wait, where are you going?”

With the door in my hand, I glanced back at her. My tone was cold and hard. “My father has some explaining to do.”

My foot stomped the accelerator as I wove through highway traffic toward the prison where my father was still being held.

“I don’t give a shit if it’s after visiting hours. You’re his attorney. Get me in a room with him. Now.” The venom in my voice dared Dad’s attorney to have the audacity to not line up and follow my orders.

I hung up the phone without waiting for an answer.

My hands gripped the steering wheel as blind rage drove me toward the county jail. By the time I got there, Dad’s attorney was already waiting for me.

His dress shirt was rumpled and his expression was well past annoyed.

“This is highly unusual,” he said.

Still, he led the way toward the visitors’ center, presenting his credentials and assuring the receptionist and guard that he was requesting an emergency attorney-client meeting. A few smooth words and placating smiles later, I was led to a room where we waited for my father.

The attorney’s attention was focused on his phone when it rang. “I need to take this. Don’t speak with him until my return.”

I nodded, fully intending to say whatever I needed to, whether or not my father’s attorney was present.

Fuck that guy.

The air in the room was stifling, and the cool metal table in the center of the room suited my grim mood.

When the door opened and my father sauntered in, it took everything inside me to not come unglued.

“JP.” He smiled. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Sit down.” My voice was ice, and even the guard’s eyebrow pitched up. He stayed silent as he uncuffed my father and allowed him to sit.

When he moved toward the corner of the room, my eyes sliced in his direction. “Get out.”

My father crossed one leg over another. “Now . . . that’s no way to speak to this gentleman.” He gave the officer a kind smile. “Please excuse his appalling behavior. I think we just need a moment to speak in private.”

The officer nodded with a smile and removed himself.

I scoffed. “You say jump and people fall over themselves to ask how high.”

He spread his hands before clasping them in his lap. “It’s a gift.”

This was fucking ridiculous. I wanted to cut the shit and get at the heart of the matter. “I came to you and asked you about Olive Adams.”

Dad rolled his eyes and let out a mocking laugh. “I thought we already dealt with that?” He laughed again and my blood ran hot. “You’re losing your touch, kiddo.”

His patronizing tone grated on my nerves. “The child that Olive had. It’s not mine. We had a test to confirm it.”

He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his pant leg. “I could have told you that. In fact, I’m pretty sure I already did.”

I just stared at him.

Realization dawned on him and he laughed. “It’s not . . . mine, is it?”

He laughed again and I was struck mute by blind hatred.

He exhaled with a laugh and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “It didn’t take much comfort before that whore spread her legs for me, but damn.”

His hand moved over his mouth as he tried to wipe the grin from his face, but it clung to the edge of his lips. “I did not see that one coming.”

Red rings of fury seeped into my vision as my voice rose. “How dare you. How dare you call Teddy’s mother a whore. She was a young woman who’d come to you for help. For comfort.”

Unmoved, my father shook his head. “You really are that fucking stupid, aren’t you? She didn’t come to Michigan looking for comfort. She wasn’t even pregnant. She came looking for a payout.”

“A payout?” The pieces were rapidly clicking into place, and I was too stunned to believe it.

My father rolled his eyes as he continued: “She went to the office, looking for you. She had plans to tell you she was pregnant in order for you to give her money for an abortion.”

He scoffed and laughed again to himself. “When I found her at the café, she broke down and admitted everything. She was going to use your reputation against us. Turns out she left with what she came for. Well . . . maybe a little more than she bargained for, but it all worked out in the end.”

I felt sick.

“For years you kept paying her. Did you know about Teddy?”

He gave a halfhearted shrug as though the entire conversation was boring him. “I knew she had a kid, but I didn’t care enough to ask if it was mine. She warmed my bed on occasion, and I paid her handsomely for it.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back until the chair groaned against his weight. “That’s what whores are for.”

Fury seeped from my pores, and I vibrated with hate. “And Mom’s necklace?”

“Your mother didn’t need it where she was.” A sick grin slinked across his face. “Maybe with this kid, I can get it right this time . . . mold him in the way I could never quite do with you.”

I snapped and dove across the table.

My fists gripped his shirt, and I slammed him forward. Rewarded with his pained grunt, I reveled in the shock that crossed his face before it hit the metal surface.

Blood spurted from a fresh cut above his eyebrow and seeped down his face. He wasn’t laughing anymore, but I was. My fist landed in a sickening thud as it connected with his face.

My father fell back and onto the floor, the metal chair scraping as it tumbled with him. The commotion drew attention, and the door flew open. Dad’s attorney stepped in with an officer on his heels.

“What the hell?” He surged toward my father, but I pushed past him. “That’s assault, Mr. King!”

My father was enraged, wiping blood from his eyes and drawing ragged breaths as he struggled to stand. “I will press charges!”

I kept moving, leaving him and any shred of loyalty I had to him behind. “I hope you do.”