Fold

I pay for Becca's food and walk around the takeout section of the restaurant, fighting off thoughts of going back to the casino.

After perusing various pictures of healthy dishes on the wall, and hearing yet another Enya song start to play, I've had about all I can take.

My phone rings as I step outside and when I see it's Asher calling for the third time, I press the ignore button. There are only two reasons he'd be calling me this morning and I don't need to hear him lecture me about how I should leave Breslin's friends alone, or about how I shouldn't be getting drunk at casinos.

I pocket my phone and have a look around. The restaurant is located on a strip of one of the many overpriced and quaint little shops here in Co

I'm browsing a random shelf in a Mom and Pop shop when something stops me in my tracks.

The elderly woman standing nearby gives me a strange look as I study the stuffed animal, but I don't care. Evidently, she never got the memo that dragons are badass. Not only because they look scary, but they attack anyone who tries to hurt them.

The thought makes my stomach clench as memories zip through me.

Back when I was a kid, the only way I could fall asleep was to pretend I had a dragon in my room looking out for me.

It's completely asinine, and I'd die before ever admitting it to anyone, but it was the only thing that helped me feel safe.

This dragon doesn't look mean like the one I used to imagine, but he is colorful and cool looking. I can't help but wonder if my son might like him too.

Something tells me he would.

Whenever he's scared, I can assure him he has nothing to worry about because both me and this dragon will keep him safe.

A smile touches my lips. Maybe I won't be so bad at this parenting thing after all.

“Are you okay, young man?”

The clerk's voice snaps me out of my haze. “Yeah.” I grab the dragon and walk over to the counter. “I think I am now.”

At that, he raises an eyebrow, but I pay him no mind because nothing can dwindle my spirits. I'm practically drunk on sheer optimism.

After I swipe my card, I take my dragon and start walking back to the restaurant, my smile growing wider.

Everything is going to be okay.

The sound of my phone ringing again interrupts my happy thoughts, and I bring it to my ear. “Let me guess, brother. Kit told Breslin I called her last night, and Breslin's pissed.” A

“I'm sorry. Is this Preston Holden?”

The unrecognizable voice catches me off guard. “Who wants to know?”

“I'm calling from DGL. This is the number we have on file to call with the paternity results. However, I need you to confirm you are Preston Holden before I can disclose them.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, surprised they're calling today instead of Tuesday like they said they would. “I'm him.”

The man clears his throat before delivering the news that will change my life forever. “The sample we collected from you is not a genetic match.”

I feel like someone just tore the entire ground right out from under me, and I have to brace myself against the nearest storefront.

“I'm sorry, I think there's been a mistake.” I swallow and it feels like glass going down. “What exactly was the percentage? I know it's supposed to be 99.9% or better, but I'm a numbers guy. So if it was, let's say, 98.9% or something—”

“I'm sorry, sir. That's not how the paternity test works. There's a percentage only if the genetic markers are a match and none of yours were. You're welcome to have another test done, but—”

I hang up because the more he speaks, the worse it all becomes.

Becca swore I was the father repeatedly.

I looked right into her eyes each time she did—her lying, manipulating, whore eyes.

Pain radiates through my ribcage and my heart pounds a mile a minute. The ache from this blow is like nothing I've ever experienced. It's the cruel torment that comes with the sobering awareness of not realizing just how much I wanted this baby to be mine until now.

Now that he's gone. Now that I have nothing.

Now that I'm back to being Preston Holden—the fuck-up, the gambler—instead of a dad.

My body trembles with rage, the force of it is so intense, I almost drop right there on the sidewalk.

It’s a good thing Becca isn't near me because every bit of it would be directed at her. Despite the small part of me that hates myself for insisting on the paternity test in the first place now.

The sound of my phone ringing once more makes me contemplate throwing the fucking thing into traffic.

But I don't, because I'm hoping it's the lab calling back to tell me they've made a grave mistake. “Hello?”

My hopes are dashed at the sound of my brother's voice. “I've been trying to call you for hours.”

“This isn't a good time, Asher.”

I'm about to hang up, but then he says, “He's in the hospital.”

I have no idea who he is until Asher's breathing becomes uneven and he grinds out, “He hit a patch of black ice and crashed his new Mercedes into a tree. The hospital tried getting in touch with Mom, but she's on a cruise. They called me because I'm listed as his emergency contact.”

My first thought is that karma must be catching up to him.

But my next thought, the one regarding our last conversation, has my insides twisting. “I'm on my way.”