Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“No,” Rook pointed into the box, “that’s your fuckin’ baby.” He added a snort.
“I ain’t gettin’ rid of my car. It’s a fuckin’ classic and worth some scratch. And, anyway, we don’t even know this is my kid.”
“When you gonna get the DNA test?” Rook asked.
Cage looked up from staring at the infant, whose blue-gray eyes were open and staring at him. Her little legs moved whenever he spoke. Huh. That was not a good sign.
He pursed his lips as he considered the baby. “Don’t know. Today? Got no idea where to go.”
“Well, I bought a car seat,” Reilly announced. “You’ll have to figure out how to latch it into the Chevy. I left it out there with a bunch of other shit I bought for now. Someone needs to go out and bring the rest in. Plus, I’ll bet she’ll want a bottle soon. I got a bunch of formula. However, I don’t know shit about babies. Maybe we need some help from someone who does. And by we, I mean you, Cage.” She shot him a big grin.
Great. “Like who? Red?”
Rook shook his head. “Fuck no. She ain’t ready to deal with an infant yet, stupid ass.”
“Reilly? You can learn,” Cage suggested.
“I’m not taking care of someone else’s kid,” she huffed. “If I wanted to take care of a baby, I’d have one of my own.”
“That’s just fuckin’ selfish, woman.”
“Fuck you. You trying to pawn off your own offspring is selfish. You made it, you take care of it.”
“We don’t even know she’s mine! A note ain’t no proof.” He groaned.
“Got an idea,” Dutch growled.
Thank fuck. “Yeah?”
“How ‘bout you take care of your own fuckin’ kid. Just like I had to take care of you two knuckleheads after your fuckin’ useless momma left.”
“But I know nothin’ about babies.”
“Ain’t much to know about havin’ snot monkeys. When they cry, you shove somethin’ in their mouth. When they shit, you change their nappy. When they get older, they break your shit and steal it, too. They eat the last fuckin’ piece of fried chicken and put the container back empty in the fuckin’ fridge. They cost you a fuckton of scratch. There you go. Now you’re up to speed.”
“Speaking of a fuckton of scratch, here’s your card back, Dutch,” Reilly said pulling the credit card out of her back pocket. “I might have hit the limit.”
Dutch shook his head. “Gonna take it outta his pay.”
“Look, I’ll go try to figure out the formula. I’m sure it has instructions on the can. I got everything I can think of to at least get through today. In the meantime, you figure out how to get a DNA test. Then figure out what you’re going to do with this sweet little girl during the day while you’re working since I’m not going to be a babysitter. Between running the office here and helping out Ozzy in the evening, I have enough to do. Get a house mouse like Cassie and Judge did,” Reilly suggested.
That wasn’t a bad idea.
Saylor. She was an option.
“You still never said where you and your snot monkey are stayin’,” Rook reminded him.
Snot monkey.
He might have his very own snot monkey now.
He glanced at the baby, whose eyes were drifting closed. “Reilly?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m awake, right?”
“Oh, you’re definitely awake.” With that and a grin, she left the office.
Fuck, he was afraid of that.
Thank fuck the garage had a spare vehicle. Sometimes they loaned it out to their customers, sometimes used it for a parts run or to grab lunch, or for whatever.
Like strapping a car seat into the back.
While not Cage’s preferred method of transportation—that would be his ’75 Shovelhead or his ’65 Chevy—it had to do. For now. Once he got the results back from the cheek swabs he and the baby just had done—and if the results came back saying he was the father—then he’d reevaluate getting something better to haul the kid around in.
Until then...
“When the results come in, give them to me, I want to do it like Maury Povich does on his talk show.” She deepened her voice and shouted, “When it comes to the case of newborn Duchess Dietrich... Caaaage... you are the father!”
“First of all, I’m done havin’ fantasies about you,” he muttered. “Second, the fuck if her name is Duchess.” Her laughter filled the car, getting on his nerves. “So glad you think this shit’s funny.”
“I see it as karma for how much you guys are hos. None of you are picky where you stick your dickies. Maybe this will be a lesson to you all.”
Cage doubted it.
“At least she didn’t do it on purpose to trap you like Ry’s mom did to Judge. This was a true accident. Especially if you really did wear a condom.” He heard a sharp inhale from the passenger side of the four-door Accord. “Wait, did you even remember wearing a condom with Tonya? Or are you going to be surprised with baby number two in nine months.”