Their acceptance means so much to me. There’s only one thing holding Grace and me back from being a family, and I need to correct that.
It wasn’t hard to find Gavin’s address.
I just asked Georgia, the detective. All she needs is the internet, and she can find anything about anyone in minutes. Pulling up to the two-story home he recently moved into with his wife, I think twice if this is the right plan. It could result in doing more harm than good, but I need to take my chances. If there’s a way I can get Gavin out of the picture, I’ll take it. If it ends up going bad, I’ll deal with the consequences.
Exhaling a deep breath, I step out of my car and stroll up the walkway. Three days have passed since the baby shower disaster, and Grace and I have worked on devising a plan to get rid of Gavin.
The door is answered within minutes after I ring the doorbell, and a dark-haired pregnant woman stands in front of me.
I lean back on my heels. “I’m looking for Gavin.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend.”
“Gavin doesn’t have friends here.” She shakes her head. “Well … male friends.”
I can’t stop myself from snarling at her response. “Look, I need to talk to him. Is he home?”
She doesn’t move.
Since being vague isn’t working, I go for lying next. “It’s about his job.”
Her shoulders straighten. “What about it?”
“Vivica, that’s Grace’s boyfriend.”
Vivica whips around, and Gavin stands a few feet away from her, his eyes narrowed in my direction. She goes to slam the door in my face, but I dart my hand out to stop her.
I lower my voice. “I promise, this is only to help you. Hear me out.”
Gavin doesn’t say a word, just delivers a dirty look as I walk in. I can’t decipher whether he is only allowing this to keep from pissing off his wife or if he’s truly interested in why I’m here. We pass two kids playing in the living room, and Vivica asks them to go play in their bedrooms.
Gavin stands straight, clasping his hands in front of him. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Finn?”
“I want you to stay away from Grace,” I demand.
“What are you talking about?” Vivica asks. “He told me he hasn’t talked to her since he took his leave.”
“That’s a lie.” I scratch my head and put all my attention on Vivica. “He showed up at her baby shower, causing a scene and telling everyone he was going to fight for his rights as the baby’s father.”
Vivica takes a step forward. “Excuse me?” She whips back to glare at Gavin. “Is this true?”
“I …” Gavin stutters for the right words. “We were in an argument … and I was … just trying to figure out what to do.”
“How did you even know where her shower was?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I still talk to a few teachers, and they overheard Grace and Georgia discussing it. They also invited some coworkers, and I got my hands on an invite.”
“You bastard!” Vivica slaps Gavin across the face, doing the work I wish I could, but I’m trying to stay out of trouble. “You promised me you’d stay away from her! You swore to quit pulling this stuff and finally be faithful.” She rubs her stomach. “We’re having another baby, for Christ’s sake!” she cries out. “You’re destroying our family.”
“I’m sorry!” Gavin croaks. “I’m trying to do better. I promise.”
“You showing up at my girlfriend’s baby shower isn’t trying to do better,” I argue. “It’s you doing worse.” I step forward. “You want to make things right with your wife … with your family? Leave mine alone.”
“Is she okay with that?” Vivica asks. “She doesn’t expect anything from Gavin?”
I shake my head. “Not one damn thing.”
“Looks like yet another lie,” Vivica says, words directed at Gavin. “You told me she is suing you for child support and won’t let you get out of this.”
“Not true.” My attention is also on Gavin as I pull out the envelope from my back pocket. “I can make it easy for you to fix your marriage.” I open the envelope and slap the papers against his chest. “Here are papers to sign over any rights you’d have to Grace’s baby. We will pay you ten thousand dollars to get you the fuck out of our hair.” My gaze swings to Vivica. “We won’t ask you for a dime, and you won’t have to worry about any extra baby-mama drama.”
Being the kick-ass attorney she is, Faith drew up papers and went through all the legalities with us on possible scenarios to get Gavin out of the picture. Grace’s parents offered the ten thousand in hopes it’d convince Gavin further. I’m grateful as fuck for everything they’re doing for us.
Vivica snatches the papers and quickly scans them before shoving them into Gavin’s chest the same way I had. “Sign the papers, Gavin, or I’ll have my attorney draw up divorce papers tomorrow.”
Conflict covers Gavin’s face. I’m not sure how the guy is as a father, but as a husband, he’s a piece of shit.
Will he be willing to say good-bye to his child?
All he seems to care about are games of manipulation. He’s most likely using being the father as an excuse to get Grace back because not once has he asked about the baby’s well-being.
“Think of what you could do with ten grand,” I say, going with my next strategy. “That’s a lot of money.”
“He’ll do it,” Vivica bursts out, grabbing a pen from her purse on the entryway table. She smacks Gavin’s cheeks a few times as if to wake him up and hands him the pen.
He slowly grabs it. She rifles through the pages until she gets to the last one and pounds her finger against the dotted line. With a sad nod, Gavin signs … and I nearly fall down in relief.
One more stop.
One more stop until I can go home to my girl.
I wasn’t sure if I’d go through with it. It’s a stretch, and it could disappoint me if it doesn’t work out. But since I’m on a roll, I might as well keep going until everything is lined up.
I take the steps up to my apartment two at a time. My dad and I have only talked a few times since the night Grace had her nightmare. I’ve been so busy with figuring shit out with us and helping to get the townhome baby ready. He hasn’t asked me for money—shocker. Worry hits me when I open the door. I never know what I’ll walk into with my father, so I’m expecting a trashed place and an even more trashed father.
The TV is on, and when I walk into the living room, a man is sitting on the couch, sipping on a Pepsi.
“Who the fuck are you?”
I made it clear to my father that I didn’t want any of his friends inside my apartment. He can take that shit somewhere else because the last thing I want to worry about is drugs here or people stealing my shit.
The guy smiles up at me. “I’m Darryl.” His voice is friendly, not slurred—a first for one of my dad’s friends. He’s also not high … and he’s dressed in clean clothes.