Page 98 of Full Out Fiend
I glance down at Winnie and find her bright eyes staring right back at me. As soon as I look at her, she gives me another smile.
Lifting her into the air, I bring her little body to rest on my shoulder. “You’re so lucky,” I croon. Your daddy will always stand up for you like that. You won’t ever wonder if he loves you or if he wishes you were someone else. He’s already so good at loving you.”
Fielding walks into the room at that moment, followed by my parents. Our eyes lock as he gives me one of his megawatt smiles. I swoon from the sincerity—from the absolute adoration—in his gaze.
“He loves us so much,” I whisper to my daughter again, knowing it’s undoubtedly true.
Chapter 56
Fielding
Five Weeks Later
“Iwasnotprepared for that,” I lament, blowing out a long, dramatic breath as we make our way to the car. “I mean, seriously. You could have warned me.”
Daphne giggles and rolls her eyes, but I’m pretty sure even she was surprised at the way her coworkers swooped in and went gaga for Winnie.
Daphne’s best friend Serena has met her multiple times already, of course. She was at the house two nights ago for dinner and to do Daphne’s hair. But the rest of those women circled us like vultures: cooing and clamoring to hold the baby. I’m lucky to be leaving with all my limbs.
I hit the remote start button on my key fob as we make our way across the parking lot. It’s still chilly in the mornings, even though it’s almost Memorial Day.
As we approach my SUV, someone steps out from the other side. My hackles instantly raise.
“Hold up,” I murmur, placing one hand on Daphne’s back as we slow our stride.
Fuck.
The audacity of this asshole. My rage rachets up tenfold as I realize someone at the salon must have told him we’d be here today. There’s no way this isn’t a setup.
Daphne wordlessly hands me the baby, the first indicator that she wants to handle him herself. As soon as she’s perched in my arms, Winnie grabs at my face. I don’t have a chance to speak before Daphne is stepping forward and calling out to him across the length of two parking spots.
“What do you want, Anthony?”
His eyes flick to my face. I snarl on instinct, then school my expression for Winnie.
Focused on Daphne again, he takes a step toward us. I match his stride and glare.
“Heard you might be stopping by here this morning. I thought you’d want to see this,” he taunts, waving a manilla envelope in the empty space between us.
I stride forward and snatch it from his hands, then hand the thing to Daphne. I try to steady my breathing, swaying and humming to keep Winnie calm, but the motion does nothing to stop my own heart from racing with panic. This fucker looks way too fucking smug right now.
I have to assume the contents of that envelope are his hail Mary shot: the big reveal, the storm of leverage he thinks he has on me.
But what Anthony doesn’t realize is that Daphne knows everything now. I told her about the woman I thought I loved, about the year I spent trying to convince Tori in subtle and not-so-subtle ways to be mine. Daphne knows everything I can remember—as well as the things I don’t, thanks to Dem filling in the blanks.
I’m not a good guy. But I’m trying my hardest to be a better man.
I just hope I’ve done enough over the last ten months to prove to her that I’ve changed. That I won’t spiral. That she can count on me, and that I won’t be that person ever again.
Daphne holds the envelope away from her body and turns it over like it’s rigged to detonate. She’s not wrong to be wary—if he’s waited this long to make his move, I’m sure the contents of that envelope are damning at best.
Searching my face, she silently places the decision in my hands.
I nod. I just want this over with. “It’ll be okay,” I whisper and do my best to crack a smile. I decided months ago that living in fear of the person I used to be isn’t fair to her or Winnie. Or to me.
I can feel Anthony’s beady eyes on me as Daphne pinches together the metal clasp. Winnie coos in my arms as my angel slides out what appears to be a stack of photos, all blown up to 8x10s, black, white, and grainy from where I’m standing.
I watch, desperate and tense, waiting for any clue as to how this will go.