“Chance? Can you please come get me?” I hiccup through a sob.
CHANCE DIDN’T ASK ANY QUESTIONS. He pulled into my parents’ driveway thirty minutes later and honked the horn. I didn’t even pause. I got my purse, grabbed the bag with my meds, and walked out the front door. I could hear my dad yelling when I jumped in the passenger seat and slammed the door before locking it.
Chance looks at me with questions in his eyes before he looks past me to where I’m sure my father is fuming.
“If I drive out of here right now, is it going to get me killed?” he asks.
“Right. Well, seeing as I like being alive and I plan to keep on breathing for a while longer, I’m going to step out of the truck and have a chat with your dad.”
Before I can stop him, he opens the door and steps out.
I can hear them talking, but not what is being said because the window is up and the hum of his engine is drowning them out. Hesitantly, I reach over and press the down button until the window is cracked slightly.
“ . . . just came because she called me and sounded upset. I owe it to Cohen to make sure she’s okay, sir. No offense, but if she isn’t okay here, then I’ll step in.”
“Is it yours?” my dad barks.
“Is what mine?”
Chance looks over his shoulder at me. His face is stoic, but his eyes flash in warning. Warning of what, I’m not sure.
“I was unaware that Dani was expecting, sir.”
“Cut the bullshit, Chance. Are you sleeping with my daughter? With your roommate’s girl? Do you think I don’t know about the nights she’s been sneaking over to your place?”
Holy shit. This is bad.
I look between the two men standing toe-to-toe in my parents’ driveway to see my mom running down their porch steps.
“You need to step away right now. This, all of this, is none of your business, and as much as it kills you that it isn’t, it’s time to shut the hell up before you cause your daughter more pain. We will have words later about what you’re accusing her of.”
God, I love my mom.
Chance doesn’t give him a second to reply. He steps away, turns, and walks back to the driver seat.
Mom calls his name and gets his attention before he can shut the door. “She needs to be watched tonight after her fall. Wake her up every few hours. I trust you to take care of her?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shuts the door and backs out of their driveway.
I can tell he has plenty to say, but he’s keeping quiet.
“I’m sorry, Chance,” I whisper.
He doesn’t speak, but he reaches out and grabs my hand, holding it tight in his and giving me just what I need at the moment.
Someone else to be my strength.
The second we got back to the apartment, I took off to Cohen’s room. By the time my head hits his pillow, I was ready to crash. Chance gave me the time I needed—and wanted—to be alone. The only time I saw him was the two times that he woke me in the middle of the night.
I can’t believe that my own father would think so low of me. Even through my hurt that he would even say such a thing, I can see where the thought sprouted. Cohen’s been gone, and by his own account, he knows I’ve been coming over here. It makes sense, even if his lack of faith in me is heartbreaking.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the bed depress.
“You want to talk about it? I’m not good with the chick shit, but I can try to help.”
“I think you’ve guessed that I’m pregnant?”
“Figured as much when your dad was about to rip my head off and assumed I had slept with you. I thought he knew you and Cohen were together?”
I sigh. “You should know him well enough to know that, when he’s mad, he gets . . . irrational. I guess he didn’t consider that it was something that happened before Cohen left. And everything that happened today, with the note and then the baby bomb, I guess he just lets his emotions get the best of his.”
“I won’t insult you by questioning if this is Cohen’s or not, but you do realize that it’s going to be on the top of everyone’s assumptions that this baby isn’t his?”
“I’ve waited for him my whole life, Chance. Everyone who knows me knows that. I just can’t believe my own father . . .” I trail off and leave it hanging. No sense in beating a dead horse.
“Why don’t you tell me about the note? Then give either your girls or Liam a call. You need your friends around you, and honestly, Dani, I like you enough, but I don’t know how to be the shoulder you are bound to cry on at some point.”