Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
I’m grateful he stepped up financially and without forcing Claudia to go through an exhaustive legal battle to get the money. But there’s no amount of cash that can buy my respect. And I adamantly do not respect a man who preferred to pay an exorbitant amount each month to keep his child firmly out of his life, forever. Seriously, how has this sorry excuse for a man slept a wink over the past two years? How did he not at least feel the desire, even once, to ask Claudia for a fucking photo of his child?
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” C-Bomb says evenly, his eyes boring holes into my face. “Talk to me in a civilized manner, or I’ll have no choice but to sick my lawyer on you.”
A soft whimper escapes my throat, and C-Bomb’s features soften, ever so slightly.
“I swear, I didn’t come here to threaten you,” he says quickly, one large palm raised. “I didn’t come to fight. I came here to meet my daughter and work with you, not against you, so she doesn’t wind up in the hands of Ralph Beaumont.”
“Ralph Beaumont?” I gasp out. He’s got my full attention now.
C-Bomb gruffly pulls out a piece of paper from his backpack. “His lawyer sent this letter to my lawyer. Can I step forward to give it to you, or will you scream bloody murder again, if I come near you?”
I roll my eyes. “I screamed when I saw you, as anyone would, because you were spying on me like a creeper, C-Bomb.” I march down the porch steps, closing the gap between us. And when we’re on the same level on the walkway, I finally grasp how tall he truly is: a full foot taller than me.
“Call me Caleb,” he says, as he hands the letter to me.
I don’t understand why he cares. I’ve seen countless interviews where the interviewer and even his own bandmates called him C-Bomb, and that’s what Claudia called him, too, even after his dick had been inside her. But whatever. As much as I’d like to continue rankling him, I’m also a firm believer in calling people whatever they’ve asked to be called.
“Fine. Caleb.” I snatch the letter from him and start to read; and with each passing sentence, my heart rate quickens some more. Midway through, I look up, aghast. “Ralph is demanding full custody? We can’t let that happen. He’s a horrible, violent man. Claudia never once let him anywhere near Raine.”
C-Bomb gives me a curt nod. “That’s why I’m here. Finish reading.”
I do as I’m told and find out Ralph thinks a judge would side with C-Bomb over him in a custody battle, since both men have never met Raine; but Ralph isn’t quite as convinced he’d beat me, if push came to shove. His solution? He wants C-Bomb to forge an alliance with him to knock me out of the picture, at which point, Ralph would then take Raine, through a private, side agreement with C-Bomb, under the same terms as C-Bomb’s arrangement with Claudia.
I look up from the letter in my hand, feeling like I’m going to vomit. “The ‘loving arms of her grandfather?’ Caleb, Ralph is a violent sociopath. As a kid, I personally saw him beat the shit out of Claudia’s mother, right in front of Claudia and me, and Claudia said he did it all the time. Please, we can’t let that horrible man—”
“We won’t. I won’t. That’s what I came to explain to you, Aubrey. I’m not going to let that motherfucker anywhere near my daughter, no matter what.”
I exhale in relief. The fact that he called Raine his daughter should freak me out, by all rights. But in this one specific context, the word choice is more comforting than threatening to me. If C-Bomb thinks of Raine as his daughter, then hopefully that will make him feel that much more inspired to keep Ralph the fuck away from her.
I feel the nonsensical impulse to throw my arms around this mountain of a man and beg him to keep his promise to keep Ralph away from Raine, no matter what. But, instead, I get ahold of myself, cross my arms over my chest, and ask, “How’d Ralph’s lawyer find out you’re Raine’s father? Claudia told me your identity was a huge secret and I could never tell anyone.”
One side of C-Bomb’s mouth hitches up, his implication clear: And yet, Claudia told you.
I wave at the air. “Claudia told me everything and vice versa.” When Caleb smirks, I add, “She trusted me not to tell a single soul about you, not even my parents, and I never did.”
C-Bomb assesses me for a longish beat. “I don’t know how Beaumont figured me out. My lawyer thinks someone from the coroner’s office with access to the paternity test might have told Ralph or the detective in charge of Claudia’s case, who then told Ralph. Either that, or someone from the coroner’s office contacted Ralph for a payout, in exchange for the information. You’d be surprised how many people come out of the woodwork, looking for a payday, when they’ve got dirt on a celebrity with deep pockets.”