Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 174

jump up and touch it myself.

"I was indeed," Daniel says, pulling a messy clump of hair from his pocket. "Sorry that it's...all in a heap," he murmurs, awkwardly handing the lump of Kent's hair to the doctor. I feel very odd, watching it change hands, fighting a ridiculous urge that rises in me to Don't be so creepy, I chide myself. Or desperate.

So, I force myself to relax back in my chair, watching the doctor take the sample and seal it into a little clear bag. Then, he takes the tube with Daniel's cheek sample and tosses it in the trash.

"Will that be enough?" Daniel asks, anxious. The doctor holds the bag up to eye-level to take a better look.

"Should be," the doctor says, looking closely. "I'm seeing some roots there, so, it should be good."

"Two days?" I ask, standing up for real now and coming to Daniel's side.

"Two days," the doctor says, nodding to us with a smile. "And no reason to suspect anything will go awry. Leave it with me, and we'll get you the results you're looking for."

"Thanks," I say, wrapping my arms around Daniel's arm and resting my head on his shoulder. "We owe you one. Big time."

"Your generous payment is enough," the doctor says, giving us a wink and boxing Kent's hair sample up with my blood sample, ready to be sent off to the lab. "But also," he says, hesitating before looking up at us with hope in his eyes. "If you wouldn't mind...putting in a good word with Janeen..."

"She'll be keeping an eye out for you at the club," I say, giving him a little wink. "You have our assurances on that." Janeen was in on it, of course - Dr. Banks has been her customer at the club for months now. She's the one who introduced us.

"A chance with a girl like that?" Dr. Banks says, sighing and sinking his hands into his pockets. "That's the real reward."

I grin at him, pleased he sees what I see in my sister.

And then, saying our grateful goodbyes, Daniel and I head out the door.

By the time we get to the parking lot, Natalia and Alessi are already gone. I look up at Daniel, who is already looking down at me.

"What next?" I ask, curious.

"You tell me, mastermind," he says, giving me a little nudge with his elbow.

I smile at him, knowing that he's asking me for more information about what I have planned - about why I wanted Natalia and Alessi here, and why I want them to believe, vehemently, that this is a Bianci baby.

But...those plans? They're just not fully in place yet. So, I answer his question in another way.

"Do you want to go to McDonalds?" I ask, hopeful. "I didn't get my snack in there, as promised."

Daniel laughs and we head off to the car together. "I think I like pregnant Fay," he murmurs, cheerful. "She's got her priorities in the right place."

We spend a pleasant evening at home that night. Papa Thompson makes a lasagna from scratch and we spend hours sitting at the table outside, eating piles of garlic bread and talking cheerfully about nothing in that way that family does. The entire evening, I feel Daniel's eyes on me. But I ignore it, needing to not face him right now, to not...not talk about it.

Because while Daniel and I are on good terms - great terms, even, now that we're husband and wife - I know he wants me to ask about his morning at the jail with Kent.

And I just...can't go there right now.

And I haven't really figured out why.

So, I ignore all of the opportunities he makes for me to step aside with him for a private word. He started it first in the car after the clinic, and then when we had lunch - just opening little conversational opportunities for me to ask. And at each one, I not-so-skillfully passed.

He let me, at first - probably thinking I just wanted to be comfortably at home before digging into it. And maybe I thought so too.

But now that I'm home?

God, the bare idea of even...talking about Kent. It raises an almost physical pain in my chest - all of the fear, and the anxiety, and the grief of these past few weeks just comes roaring back.

I do my best to pat those emotions down in me as I nurse the non-alcoholic beer my dad brought me - bless him, always so considerate and wanting me to be part of the group. But Daniel's looking at me again, not-so-subtly nodding towards the edge of the deck, where we know Janeen and Jerome will leave us alone.

But I just pretend I don't see his nod, turning to laugh at Janeen and Jerome's conversation about whatever sports team is playing right now. I don't know which one - I haven't been listening. But it doesn't matter - I just allow myself to be carried away in the empty bliss of a pleasant conversation.

Because the alternative? Of having to address my reality, to really think about what the hell I'm going to do next?

It's so overwhelming that I fear I'll drown in it.

God, how did Kent do this every day, year after year? He's so much stronger than me.

I successfully evade Daniel all evening, but at night? When it's just me, retiring to my bed alone?

He knows he has me trapped.

I kind of expect the tapping on my door when it comes. And in response, very immaturely, I quickly shut off my book light and close my eyes, pretending that I'm asleep.

I hear a sigh outside my bedroom door before it creaks open. Inwardly, I curse the loss of the little lock that Kent put on my bedroom door at his house. Why do I keep getting bedrooms without locks on the doors?

I keep my eyes closed so I can't see what Daniel's doing, even though the light from the hallway spills in and changes the darkness on the inside of my eyelids to a light orange-red.

"Fay," Daniel sighs, and I sigh too, knowing I'm trapped. "I know you're not asleep. I saw your light go out."

I open my eyes and stare at my wall, still unwilling to face him.

"Why won't you ask, Fay?" Daniel says quietly, closing the door behind him and coming to sit on the edge of my bed. "I mean - I won't tell you anything if you don't want to hear. But...why don't you want to know?" "Because," I murmur, and a sudden hitch comes to my throat. Daniel inhales sharply and moves upward on the bed, sitting behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder as I work to get ahold of myself.

"Because," I say again, forcing myself to turn to steel, to be tough. Because - in all of this, I have to be tough, or it will all collapse. "The point was that you got the hair, and you got him to agree to the plea deal. Any other information...doesn't matter right now, Daniel." "Doesn't it?" he murmurs, laying down behind me and starting to stroke my back in a comforting way. I close my eyes again. "Doesn't it matter, if hearing that he's okay will make you feel better?"

"But what if he's not okay?" I whisper, terrified.

"Well then I won't tell you."

"Well then your not telling me will tell me that he's not okay!" I protest, and Daniel laughs. Then he stops stroking my back and tugs on my shoulder, asking me to turn.

I do ask my husband asks, turning towards him in bed so that he can see the tears slipping down my cheeks. Daniel makes soft, comforting, chiding noises - telling me that it will all be okay as he wipes the tears from my cheeks. But I just shake my head. Because...I mean, it's probably not. I have this insane plan - and it's probably not going to work - and it's probably going to get us all arrested -

And I just have so many doubts about all of it - about me, and whether or not I can pull this off, and - and whether it makes me a bad person -

And a bad mother - to want to do all of this -

"Fay," Daniel says, stern, making my eyes flash up to him. He places a soft hand on my cheek. "You've got to stop second-guessing it."

"I can't," I cry, shaking my head.

"What would Kent say?" he asks softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"He'd tell me to let him do it," I reply, laughing a little hystrically and wiping my running nose with the back of my hand.

"Well, yeah," Daniel replies, laughing too. "But in this alternate universe - where Kent is in jail, and has agreed to take the plea deal and let you do whatever the hell it is you're planning. What would he say?" "He'd say stop wasting time crying," I sigh. "And get to work."

"Yup," Daniel says, nodding a little. "He's a jerk that way."

I laugh again, shaking my head. Because in saying that to me, Kent wouldn't be being mean - he would just be telling me what I need to hear.

"Kent has never been big on hesitation," Daniel continues. "If you have a plan, and it's a good plan? You don't get it done by constantly rethinking it. So..." he shrugs. "Let's do this thing. All right? We're all on board."

"Okay," I whisper, closing my eyes again and nodding, letting myself trust Daniel's trust in me.

"Kent didn't want to do it," Daniel whispers, and I open my eyes, biting my lip and looking up at him. "He didn't want to take the plea bargain," he says, and then his lips quirk into a smile, "was real pissed off about it, in fact." I laugh, imagining it, because of course he was.

"He only agreed when he saw your handwriting," Daniel continues. "He trusts you, Fay."

I take a deep breath, letting Kent's faith bolster me as well.

Because if Kent and Daniel think I can do this?

Well...maybe I really can.