Ten Thousand Lies (45 page)

Lilla had to leave to pick up Maddison from daycare around three o’clock, but Xanthe stayed with me until darkness fell. We were drinking tea at the kitchen table.

“Do you want me to be here when you tell him?” she asked, looking at the clock above the microwave.

I shook my head. “If Oliver texts you one more time, I’m going to go crazy.”

“He just worries, you know…after the whole George episode.”

“I don’t blame him. You’re a big-shot author now.”

She sighed. “Opie called me a few days ago.”

“How’s she doing?”

A tender smile graced Xanthe’s mouth, and I couldn’t help but adore her that much more for it. She was such a beauty, and she didn’t even know it.

“She, uh…she met someone.”

“Finally?”

Xanthe snorted. “It’s so twisted. I can’t even!”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not official
yet
, but apparently…” She grinned wickedly. “She needed to make sure I was okay with her seeing him first.”

“Why would you have anything to say about who she should date?”

“Because…it’s Deo.”

I stared at Xanthe, who stared right back at me, fighting not to bust out laughing.

“
Are
you okay with it?” I asked.

“Too bloody right, I’m okay with it! She told me she’d had the hots for him since way back when we were roommates, but she knew he and I were, you know…whatever we were. Well, I told her to jump on and ride like the wind. I mean, think about it! They’re bloody
perfect
for each other! I can’t believe I didn’t think about it myself. You know what the funny thing is?”

“What?”

“He didn’t even remember her when he started chatting her up. He’d met her only once. Remember when I had that fucking flu that nearly destroyed my ass?”

“Oh, yeah. Deo rushed to Oxford because you answered the phone, sounding like you’d been beaten within an inch of your life, and told him to ‘kill me now,’ right?”

“Yeah. She heard me answer the door and got worried when she heard his voice. Thought he was forcing his way in because he was all pissy and shit. She whacked him on the back of the head with a broom.”

I cracked up. “And he doesn’t remember her?”

“Well, she looked like complete shit, too, as we’d both been on death’s door with that illness. She was so embarrassed; she went back to her room and wouldn’t come out. Deo went and got us all sorts of meds and soup, and I had to crack open her door and slide it into her room.”

“Did you tell him who she was?” I asked.

“Nope. He’s already figured it out for himself.”

“Keep me updated. This sounds like it could be absolutely epic.”

“You can count on it,” Xanthe replied, standing up and taking her teacup to the sink. She rinsed it out and popped it into the dishwasher. “And tell me all about how Ricki reacts to the news.”

“Will do.”

Ricki

After spending all of Monday trapped at headquarters, catching up on paperwork, I was fried. I was starving, too, and hoping Jaime would be up to grabbing a bite to eat somewhere. My wife wasn’t much of a cook. She’d cook chicken, but she was so afraid of poisoning us that it’d end up the texture of wood. She didn’t eat red meat of any kind, so if I wanted a steak, we would have to go out.

Xanthe called her a vege-chicken-arian. Except when we went to King’s. Then, Jaime was a vege-crab-leg-arian.

When I walked into the house, it was so quiet, but the lights were on. A strange feeling came over me as I kicked off my boots and took off my coat and hat.

“You home, Dollface?” I called out.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she called back.

Shite. She even sounds weird.

Worried, I hurried down the hall until I came into the kitchen. Jaime was sitting at the table, a mug between her hands. I could smell green tea with ginger, which she would drink when she was nervous or had an upset stomach.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but…” She shook her head. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“What?” My heart was pounding a million miles a minute.

She smiled, the kind that shattered my soul and made me feel high all at once.

“I’m pregnant.”

Frozen in shock, I stared at her, my mouth hanging open.

Then, hellfire blazed beneath my sternum. Fury, rage, pain, heartbreak. It was so bad that I was close to choking.

“You’re fucking what?” I asked, hearing the poison in my own voice.

“I could hardly believe it myself,” she said, getting to her feet. “But I took three tests, and all of them came back positive. My queasiness, falling asleep at work…”

A roaring filled my ears, and my vision tinged pink. This wasn’t the sort of wrath I was used to, the kind I controlled.
It
was controlling
me
. I was shaking with it.

“What the fuck, Jaime?” I croaked.

Surprised, she froze where she stood. “What the fuck what?”

“Who is he?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Her calm, quiet innocent demeanor made me snap.

“Who the
fuck
fathered your fucking kid?” I screamed.

Her jaw dropped, and a similar anger to what I felt leaped into her China blues. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I can’t fucking have kids, Jaime. We
both
fucking know this! So, how you thought you’d pull this shite on me—”

“
Pull
this shit on you?” she echoed softly. Then, she went fucking nuclear. “Are you fucking high?
You
fathered this fucking brat! How
dare
you!”

“Who is he?” I demanded. “Who
the fuck
are you fucking on the side? Am I not enough for you, Jaime? Haven’t I given you everything you could possibly ever—”

“Go fuck yourself, you asshole!” she shouted, her eyes filling with tears. “I knew it would be a shock, but to actually be accused of cheating on you is beyond fucking low.”

“It’s the only way it could have happened!” I raged.

“Obviously the fuck not!”

“Who is he? Fucking tell me, or so help me God, Jaime, I will go on a homicidal rampage and wipe the male population off the fucking Earth!”

My wife very calmly walked up to me, cocked back her right arm, and said, “You are,” before she socked me in the jaw.

Two things were made perfectly clear before I hit the ground, unconscious.

One, I shouldn’t have taught her how to knock a man out.

And, two, I was going to be a father.

My aching fucking face.

Groaning, I pushed myself up. I was on the kitchen floor with a splitting headache and a sore-as-fuck jaw.

What the hell happened?

Glancing at the clock above the microwave, I saw it was nearly seven o’clock. I’d gotten home just after six. I was hungry, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to chew any food.

Dazed, I sat there for a few minutes, just waiting for my head to clear. When it did, I jumped to my feet, too fast, and I swayed, grasping the counter until the dizziness subsided.

“Jaime?” I said, making my head buzz. “Dollface, are you here?”

Nothing.

I made my way up to our bedroom where I found my wife had grabbed some clothes, leaving the closet door on her side open as well as her underwear drawer.

“Damn it.”

Pulling out my phone, I saw Xanthe had sent me a text.

Xanthe: Douche!

I could start hunting for Jaime, and I’d find her within the hour. She was either at Xanthe and Oliver’s, Ronen and Lilla’s, Rex and Trey’s, or Ellen’s.

Instead, I called the Locals’ hospice.

“Hello, Agent Conklin. This is Hilde. How can I help you?”

“Yeah, I need to come in and get my sperm analyzed. Is there someone there who can do it now?”

No questions asked. Just some furious clicking on a computer keyboard.

“There is. Come on in, Agent Conklin.”

“Thanks.”

Whacking off in a cup wasn’t how I’d planned on spending my Monday night, especially when I had a headache and a sore jaw, but somehow, I managed. I didn’t bother with the porn or the titty mags, but I thought of my wife, her amazing China blues, and the killer blow job she’d given me in my office at work a couple of days ago.

Then, I sat and waited for the results for nearly two hours. The fucking waiting room was cold, and I was jacked up on caffeine to counteract the badass painkiller the doctor had given me when he noticed it was painful for me to talk.

Dr. Henrik Kohl came in and sat next to me. Handing me the paperwork, he said, “Your sperm count is normal, Conklin.”

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“Well, I reviewed your medical history, and you haven’t had your testicles checked since you were sixteen, so you’ve never had your sperm count taken before. It said only the doctor who treated you after your accident hypothesized you wouldn’t have children.”

My face flushed. “My wife and I have had a really active sex life for years, and she’s not on birth control. We didn’t think we’d need it. But now…why would it take this long for her to get pregnant?”

Dr. Kohl shrugged. “Sometimes, it just happens this way. But talk to her and have her schedule an appointment as soon as possible.”

“We, uh…she’s been drinking—not like alcoholic levels. I know she hasn’t been drinking as much as she used to, but will that have damaged the baby at all?”

“Is she a heavy drinker?”

“No. We go for a pint a few days a week but not to get drunk. Just to unwind with friends a bit after a long day.”

“Well, it’s early yet. Chances are, everything is fine. But have her come in for a checkup, okay?”

“I will,” I told him, standing.

Once I find her and beg for forgiveness.

My wonderful, gorgeous, pregnant wife wasn’t answering her phone, and I had already passed by Oliver and Xanthe’s place where Xanthe flipped me off, and Oliver gave me a hearty clap on the back in congratulations.

“She went to Ellen’s,” the Brazilian beast whispered before shutting the door in my face.

So, that was where I was headed. Calling Ellen along the way, I let her know I was coming over and not to freak when I unlocked the door to the bookshop. Despite being eighty-four, the woman was still a sharp shot and wouldn’t hesitate to pop a cap in me arse.

Ellen was in her office when I showed up, and she waved to me as I made my way up to her apartment. Taking a deep breath, I tried to prepare myself for a raging wife.