Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(66)

What would Jake do when he had the opportunity to speak to his son for the first time? Would he tell Franklin the truth? And how would Franklin react if he did?

Her sweet boy had no experience with a father. The concept, in its solid form, was foreign to him. As far as he was concerned, a daddy was nothing but an abstraction. A story like all the stories she read to him before bedtime. How would he handle the appearance of a living, breathing, all-too-real father?

“Snake,” she heard her brother say, “I understand how you feel. Really I do. But you need to give her a chance to—”

“She’s had all the chances she deserves,” Jake snarled. “Three long years of them. When do I get my chance? I want my son, Boss.”

The room tilted and began to close in on her, and she realized she wasn’t breathing. The thought of losing Franklin…

“I know you’re hurting right now, man. I know you’re pissed beyond measure. And you’ve got every right to feel that way. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take that boy away from his mother.”

A solid thump sounded against the wall, and she was pretty sure Jake had attempted to put his fist through it. That supposition was confirmed when a long silence ensued, which was eventually broken by her brother asking, “Feel better now?”

“Not really,” Jake mumbled.

“We’re going to find a way to work this out, man.”

Really? Did her brother have a time machine? Because, as far as she could tell, the ability to change history was the only way she could fathom them being able to work out anything.

“I want my son, Boss.” Jake repeated. “I deserve the opportunity to be a father to him.”

***

“Hey, honey, you lookin’ for date?” The red-haired whore with the gargantuan fake tits grabbed one of her nipples through her bustier and gave it a squeeze as Johnny breezed by her on his way to the elevator at The Stardust Hotel.

“Maybe later,” he muttered, too preoccupied with the task at hand to give her much more than a passing thought.

Of course, if he couldn’t find Michelle Carter tonight, he might be in need of some relief from the fire in his veins, and the whore, though certainly not his first choice, would do in a pinch.

“Well, I’m here when you need me,” she purred.

He winked at her and waggled his tongue as the silver doors closed behind him. Snapping his fingers impatiently, he groaned as the elevator made its noisy, slow journey to the sixth floor. He should’ve snuck in the rear entrance and climbed the back steps, just like he’d been doing since he’d checked in to The Stardust Hotel. But he’d been too anxious to get his hands on the information and had falsely thought the front door and elevator would be faster.

It wasn’t.

But finally, finally the elevator door slid open. Hurrying down the smoky hall, he fished in his pocket for his room key. Pushing inside room 602, he rushed to the bed and thumbed through the folder the PI had sent him until he found what he was looking for.

Lisa Brown.

The file said she was a part-time graduate student at Northwestern University in Liberal Studies—whatever the hell that was—and a full-time nanny for Michelle Carter. Scanning the sheet for the information he sought, he smiled when his eyes landed on an address.

Folding the piece of paper, he tried shoving it in his jacket pocket only to stop when his fingers brushed against something glossy and flat.

He pulled out the photo of Michelle with her son and unfolded it, running a thumb over the full line of her lush breasts. What the red-headed whore in the lobby had paid a plastic surgeon a pretty penny to construct, God had given naturally to Michelle.

His blood began to pound in his cock, and he reached down to adjust himself.

Oh, we’re going to have some fun, you and I. A whole lot of fun…

Tossing the photo on the bed—he didn’t need it, he’d know her face anywhere—he shoved Lisa Brown’s information into his pocket and strolled from his room, whistling happily.

***

“Snake, can I talk to you out in the hall,” Boss asked, causing Jake to glance away from the sweet, innocent face of his sleeping son.

His son…

Yo, it’s going to take some time to get used to that.

He was a father. He had a son. Maybe if he said it over and over again, he’d finally be able to believe it.

“I guess,” he said, pushing up from the stiff chair he’d pulled beside Franklin’s hospital bed. The boy looked like a little doll among the covers, so small, so pale. He tried to see some of himself in him…

And it rankled more than he’d ever admit to find none of his physical characteristics in that cherubic little face. It was insult added to injury. After all, he’d already been denied his rights as a father, was it fair the universe had decided to deny his genetics, as well?

Franklin stirred, a small frown wrinkling his brow, and Shell reached up to brush the boy’s hair back from his face, whispering words of comfort.

“You comin’ or what?” Boss asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, striding toward the door, refusing to glance at Shell as he passed her.

Pushing into the hall, he closed the door behind him and crossed his arms as he leaned against the jamb, glaring at Boss. Oh, he knew his former CO was innocent in all this, but it didn’t help that the guy was determined to take Shell’s side in everything.