“I’m not sure who that could be, so stay in here, okay?” I commanded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
She nodded in understanding, and I left her to open the door.
What I found when I did so had me seething.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Rachel stood there with puffy eyes and runny mascara. Her clothes were wrinkly and she looked like hell. I wanted to slam the door in her face, and I would’ve if I didn’t think she’d ring the doorbell consistently until I opened it for her again. It was best to see what she wanted so she’d go away. And after our last conversation, I was surprised to see her here.
“I need to talk to you,” she stated sternly.
“You could have just called, Rachel. What the fuck do you want?”
She jutted her hip out, placing her hand on it.
“Aren’t you at least going to invite me in?”
I scoffed and walked out onto the steps, closing the door behind me. I didn’t want Emma to hear whatever it was Rachel had to say.
“No,” I said, annoyed, crossing my arms over my still bare chest. “Get on with it or you can get off my property.”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, her voice cracking as she started to cry.
“Not my problem.”
I turned and was about to open the door when she spoke again.
“You’re really going to leave the mother of your child on your doorstep?”
I turned back toward her with a scowl.
“Rachel, it would be wise for you to learn your facts before you start accusing people of impregnating you. I’m unable to have kids and from what I can remember, John is, also. So either you’re being a lying, condescending bitch, or you were fucking around with more than just me.”
Her lip started quivering, and she averted her eyes before she broke into a sob.
I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. This was the last thing I wanted to fucking deal with.
“I don’t want to be a dick, Rachel, but do you have any idea what kind of man you’re marrying? I really hope this is all a lie because I can guarantee you that if you are indeed pregnant, John will not claim it and there’s no telling what he might do.”
She wiped her eyes and looked up at me.
“What do you mean, what he might do?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath before slowly letting it out. I couldn’t just tell her my theory of what John might do because there was no guarantee he would get rid of her.
“I didn’t mean anything. Listen,” I commanded as I placed a hand on her arm. “My suggestion to you is to figure out who the father is and either confront him about it or get rid of it. I really don’t see any other way.”
She pulled away from me. “I’m not getting rid of it.”
I didn’t think she would. “Then find the father. Do you even know who the father is?”
She sniffed and licked her lips before diverting her eyes once again. “He’s not going to care, Mason. He’s not the kind of man who’s going to want a kid.” Tears ran down her face again and she wiped at her eyes. “I was drunk, and I just didn’t care at the time. He was being so nice to me. Comforting me. John’s never home and I just wanted to be touched. You’d stopped texting and he was there.”
You reap what you sow. I had no sympathy for her. She was a gold digger and jumped on the first opportunity to be with John. She took advantage of the life, and this is what happened.
“Who is it?”
She shook her head, not wanting to tell me, but I wasn’t going to back down. “Who’s the fucking father, Rachel?” I asked sternly.
She looked up and met my gaze.
“Donicko,” she stated in a whispered breath.
I stared at her blankly then ran a hand through my hair.
Fuck.
I knew for a fact that things would be bad for her if she confronted Donicko. But the question was: Do I act like a dick and tell her to fuck off, or do I help her get out of the trouble she’s in?
I let out a sigh and placed my hands on my hips, debating on what I should do.
“Look, Rachel. I’m not exactly sure what you thought you’d achieve by coming here, but there is nothing I can do for you.” There was no way I was dealing with this shit, especially with Donicko being involved, no matter how many tears she shed. “My suggestion to you is to reconnect with your family and break things off with John. I’m not getting involved.”
“But—”