seriously doubt he’s actually watching it.
“Three weeks,” I inform him.
“Huh?” His head snaps in my direction.
“When the doctor examined me, she mentioned being able to do a paternity test at ten weeks.”
His eyes dart from mine to the blanket covering my stomach.
“But that could hurt the baby.”
And there is the concern for the tiny human growing inside of me that I was hoping for. He may not know much about relationships or women, but he’s willing to voice his concern for a child that may not even be his. He’s so different from Jeremy. I feel a little guilty for thinking for a second he could raise his hand and hurt me.
“They have a blood test they can do on me and swabs for you and Rocker at ten weeks.”
“Really?” He still doesn’t look like he believes me.
“Really,” I answer. “Technology has come a long way.”
His smile reaches his eyes this time and I have to wonder if he’s happy we can find out sooner because it means he may be off the hook quicker than he initially thought.
It kind of leaves me wishing there actually was a third guy in the running.
Chapter 7
Rocker
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I ignore Matthews as I cross the parking lot at Simone’s apartment complex.
“Not that I’m surprised. Hey.” Matthews grabs my arm before I can walk past him.
I look down at his grip on my skin, but he doesn’t back away.
When I look up, it’s easy to see he’s exhausted, not angry to see me.
“This is an open investigation.”
“And you know damn well you’re wasting your time. It was self-defense.”
“She stabbed him twice.”
“He hit her five times that many before she did.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but I have a case to work, and I won’t let my feelings on the matter taint the investigation.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “Jeremy Murphy is a piece of shit, and the fucker better be glad he’s dead.”
Matthews nods his head in agreement, his eyes darting to the sidewalk leading to Simone’s ground-floor apartment. We don’t say a word as the medical examiners head our way with a body bag on a gurney.
“She’s pregnant,” I confide after the corpse is locked away in the back of the medical examiner’s van.
“Not her husband’s,” Matthews deduces. “Our records match her account. He only got out of prison a few days ago. The prison logs say she never visited him.”
“Not his,” I agree, but I don’t offer anything further.
“I see.”
I look back over at him, squinting my eyes at the rising sun. “You have an opinion on the matter?”
“She didn’t mention a pregnancy when I saw her earlier. Did she know, or did the doctors discover it when she was admitted.”
My muscles tense. He’s a thorough bastard, I’ll give him that. “Trying to build a case against her?”
“If she knew and was protecting her unborn child, it won’t do anything but help her case.”
That’s good news, but I can’t focus on that part. “Her case?”
“Come on, Callum. You know how this goes. There’s a dead guy. No 911 call. He’s been in the apartment with her for days. She admitted herself she let him in and didn’t ask him to leave.”
“She was terrified.” Anger fills my blood until I can’t help but clench my hands open and closed. The body is gone, but the complex is swarming with cops right now. Punching this fucker in the jaw wouldn’t end well for me.
“And I understand her being scared.”
“Do you?”
He snaps his head in my direction. “I do. I’ve seen it over and over. I’m not immune to the trauma she’s suffered, but I’ve also seen juries that don’t understand. People in society, especially women who’ve never suffered at the hand of an abusive partner, can’t fathom getting hit and not walking away from the situation. They don’t understand the mechanisms that make men violent to the opposite sex, and they sure as hell won’t feel sorry for her. I don’t fucking agree with it, but it is what it is. A baby helps her. It will be easier to convince people of self-defense after years of abuse if the situation changed. If she was protecting her child when she couldn’t protect herself before.”
“All of this is so fucked up.” I feel like Jinx when I scrape my hands over my head.
I now fully understand what it feels like to be helpless in a situation, and I fucking hate it.
“So, you’re the father?”
“We don’t—maybe.”
He doesn’t seem shocked, and I don’t know if that’s a