To Claim His Own

Cal’s features turned grimmer. “Who was she with when she got killed? I know she wasn’t alone.”

“After Connie left you, she hooked up with some biker. They were both killed in the accident.”

“Were they married?”

“Not that I know of,” Hammond responded. “Rumor had them shacking up together.”

“Then how do I know the kid’s mine?”

“Your name’s on the birth certificate,” Hammond pointed out bluntly.

Cal lunged out of his chair, reaching for the legal document his attorney held out to him. After perusing the birth certificate, seeing his name stare back at him, he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead he walked to the window and stared into the glaring sunshine.

It had been over a year now since he’d been free to do something as simple as stand in front of a window and not fear for his life. Working undercover as a government investigator forced him to live mostly in the underbelly of society, in the dark and dank places of the drug world.

Before he’d gone undercover, he’d thought of himself as a fairly normal guy—maybe wilder and more head-strong than most. But still normal. Then he’d married Connie Jenkins, and immediately he’d begun to question whether he was normal at all, realizing he’d made the biggest mistake of his life so far.

Now, thank God, he was free to begin his life over, to hope that he had rejoined the ranks of normal people living normal lives. But underneath his outward calm, fear festered. Since he’d been living and dealing with the scum of the earth, he was no longer sure where he belonged or even who he was. Hell, maybe he’d become one of the scumbags himself. Only time would tell.

One thing he did know, he would never go back into the dark, which had nearly driven him over the edge. He winced inwardly, recalling the lighted stick of dynamite that had just been dropped in his lap.

Hell, if this child was his—and he wasn’t ready to admit or accept that yet—he wasn’t fit to be a parent. He could learn to be, if it turned out this baby had his blood flowing through its veins.

He might be a sonofabitch in many ways, but he was never one to shirk his duty, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Cal, are you with me?”

He let go of a pent-up breath, then whipped around and met his friend’s inquiring gaze. “My mind’s still trying to process what you just told me.”

“You can get a DNA test done, of course,” Hammond said. “Probably should, since that’s within your rights since she lived with another man.”

“I could forget you ever told me there was a child.” Cal kicked up an eyebrow. “That’s also an option. Right?”

Hammond shrugged. “That’s your call, of course.”

“Only you know I’m not about to do that,” Cal said with force. “If my name’s on the birth certificate, then he’s my child, and I aim to accept the responsibility.”

“That doesn’t surprise me, my friend. You’ve never been one to do things by halves. It’s all or nothing with you. And that ain’t a bad way to be either.” Hammond moved his tall, lanky body out of his chair to the bar where he helped himself to a cup of coffee, then gestured to Cal.

Cal shook his head.

After blowing on the liquid, then taking a swig, Hammond added, “On second thought, maybe this is one time you should let sleeping dogs lie, if you get my drift. Maybe you should just walk away from this, start your life over and simply forget about the child. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen.”

“For me it would,” Cal said harshly.

“I’m sorry to hit you with this when you’ve only been back in town two days. But I wanted you to find out from me rather than the gossip mill. You know how Tyler, Texas, is. It’s not quite large enough for people to mind their own business.”

“Don’t apologize. I had to know, and I’d rather hear it from you than anyone else. At least, I can trust you.”

“You can trust a lot of people, Cal.” While Hammond’s tone was solemn, it also had a confident ring to it. “You have friends who are delighted you’re back in civilization.”

“I know. It’s just going to take me a long time to convince myself of that.”

“It’s a given you can’t discuss what you went through or even where you were, but was it as bad as it appears?”

“Worse than bad,” Cal said tersely.

“Well, at least you’re done with the whole shebang.”

“If this security company gig works out,” Cal responded, “I will be for sure.”

Hammond sat down and sipped on his coffee. “I thought you’d been hired.”

“I have—if I want the job, that is. I have six weeks to make up my mind.”

“Even before I told you about the child, I got the impression you were hesitating.”

“Hell, Hammond, it’s in a foreign country, albeit a safe one.”

“So?”

“So, maybe I want to stick around the good ol’ U.S. of A. for a while.”

“Which tells me you’ve been out of the country.”

Cal narrowed his eyes on his friend. “I didn’t say that.”

“Okay. Again, I know I’m not privy to anything that pertains to your work, that it’s all top-secret mumbo jumbo.”

“You’re right, so stop fishing.”

Hammond’s mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Well, you might as well put a lid on that curiosity because my tenure with Uncle Sam’s not something we can ever discuss.”

Hammond grinned. “I bet you were damned good at your job, whatever the hell it was. You’ve always had a reputation for being a real bad-ass.”

“You must’ve been talking to my ex father-in-law.” Cal meant that as a sarcastic joke, but when Hammond didn’t smile, an alarm bell went off in his head. But then, his brain was trained to pick up on the slightest thing that seemed out of sync.

“Strange that you should say that,” Hammond drawled, looking away.

Cal went into full alert mode. “Have you been in contact with Patrick Jenkins?”

“Nope,” Hammond said, his gaze returning to Cal.

“I hear a ‘but’ coming, right?”

“Right.” Hammond stared down at his highly polished boots.