Page 142 of Your Last First Kiss

“Don’t talk about my future wife like that.”

“Ah, I see. Sloppy seconds. There really is someone for everyone, I guess.”

I growl. I don’t mean to, but he’s poking the bear and knows it.

“Penny isn’t here because she’s at home taking care of her kids.”

“That’s her job,” he says with a scoff.

Pick your battles. Pick your battles. Pick your battles. I chant until I know I can form words that aren’t going to end with us fighting to the death.

“I’m here to offer you the best attorney money can buy.”

This has him sitting up taller in his chair. “Bullshit. Nobody gets nothin’ for free in this life.”

“Oh, it’s not free. It comes at a cost much higher than money can buy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll hire you an attorney, the best I can find, if you sign over all parental rights to Penny.” Then I can adopt them. I don’t say it out loud, but it sounds off loudly in my mind. “It’s a good deal. Even if you do get out in a few years, you’ll only ever be allowed supervised visits. Penny will make sure of that. And you’ll have to be sober to see them.”

“I am sober, asshole.”

Only because being in prison forces it.

I start a new mental chant. Do not roll your eyes. Do not roll your eyes.

“It’s a good deal. You’ll never have the relationship you could’ve had with those kids, so cut them free and give them the opportunity to have a happy, healthy childhood.”

He sits back in his chair and studies me. The minutes tick by on the clock on the opposite wall like a bomb about to explode. We don’t speak for a full five rotations of that second hand. But when he does, I know there’s no redeeming this asshole ever.

“See, I’ve been sittin’ here trying to figure out why you’re so invested in this. I know you’re fucking my wife…”

“Ex-wife.”

“But I’ve had her. That pussy isn’t worth it, so it must be something more…sentimental, shall we say?”

He says it with a sneer that sets my teeth on edge.

“You wanna adopt them. That’s what this is. Well, guess what, asshole? I’m not givin’ them up. Not ever. They’ll wear my name and follow the same path that my father and I did. The Damon name will never leave them. Those ungrateful assholes can carry around the shame of being my children, it’ll make ’em stronger. Build character. Ya know?”

I slide a piece of paper across the table. “Take the deal,” I grind out.

He uses one dirty finger to slide it back to me. “I don’t think I will. Those kids are Damons, and they always will be.”

I stand and take the papers with me. Before I reach the door, I turn to him. “They may carry that name, but I’ll make sure we change the stigma behind it if it’s the last thing I do. Those kids will never carry the burden of your shame. I won’t allow it.”

His laugh is wet and raspy. “What are ya? God? You won’t allow it. Get the fuck outta here. I’ll fight for my rights to those little peckers just to spite ya.”

I’m at the table and in his face in the blink of an eye. “Spite me? Spite. Me? I will fight to the death for these kids. Come at me, come at them ever again, and I will end you.” The security guard takes a step closer but doesn’t interrupt us. “Understand me? You can rot in here, bitter and petty as hell. I will find a way to make sure those kids, my kids, are never ashamed of who they are. I can promise you that.”

I step back and watch his face contort as he processes my words.

“Your kids…”

“And let me be very clear on this. Unlike you, Ineverbreak my promises. Sit and spin, you fucking asshole.”

Fury rampages inside me as I leave the prison. He’s hurtful just to be hurtful. There’s no reasoning with a person like that.