“You don’t think that’s going to kill me too?” she choked out, trying to keep her voice down as she stared into his eyes. “My heart’s stopping just thinking about it, but the alternative is you not being there at all. How would I even make it through the delivery without you? Forget about just the delivery. You could be in jail for years.” Tears streaming down her face, she caressed his hair. “You’d miss holding this baby within a few minutes of it coming into this sick and beautiful world. You wouldn’t hear its first cry or first word. You wouldn’t see first smiles or steps. You’d miss birthdays, recitals, and the first day of school. I need you to think about what you’re saying. But more than anything, I need you to think about every first you’ll never get back.”
Completely. Fucking. Torn.
Gavin’s heart split at the seams; he swore he heard it ripping open. He couldn’t deny the truth in Emily’s words. He knew missing any one of those things could put him in his grave. Every single one of those reasons owned a little piece of something that added up to everything he was looking forward to. Everything he existed for. On the other hand, his gut wretched at the thought of sharing any of those moments with Dillon. The whole situation was poisonous on its own, but now, Dillon would douse it with the last bit of arsenic. In those seconds, as Gavin watched Dillon emerge from the bathroom, something Gavin’s father had said to him years earlier flittered through his mind.
“Son, sometimes being a man means you have to know when to drop the heavy sword you’re holding during a battle. If the reason you’re fighting for is already wounded, you need to count your losses and put a stop to senseless pain. While your head may hang low in defeat, the outcome will end in your favor. Honor isn’t found in victory. It’s found within the wounded reason that needed you from the start.”
Dillon was the battle…
Emily was already wounded…
And here and now, she needed him to concede defeat. He only prayed the outcome would indeed end in his favor. Gavin leaned into Emily, his lips a whisper away from hers. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the vanilla scent of her skin. “I need you to trust me right now, Emily. With everything you have in you, I need you to trust I would never do wrong by you or this baby. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she quietly cried, her breath warm against his face.
“Good. I need you to play along with me starting right now. Get up.”
Emily nodded, her gaze ripping from Gavin’s when Dillon took a seat. She stood, and Gavin slipped from the booth, reaching for her hand.
He looked at Dillon, who appeared confused. Placing his palm on the table, Gavin hunched over, his eyes narrowed. “You think you’ve won, but you haven’t, Dillon. Not only have you tried to insult my intelligence by assuming I’d cave to your psychotic requests before seeking legal counsel, you’ve insulted the woman I love. That really pissed… me… off. You think I’m the type of man who would allow you in the delivery room while you get off on seeing Emily in pain? Wrong again, asshole. I’d rather die in prison than watch you enjoy any more happiness from her pain.”
Letting go of Emily’s hand, Gavin leaned in closer. Dillon slid away, his back flush against the wall. “While you were draining your snake, I called my family. They’re prepared to take care of Emily and the baby for as long as I’m away. And let me remind you my father’s a lawyer. He also spends weekends playing golf, drinking, and barbequing with some of Manhattan’s highest criminal judges. But that’s not even the best I have for you, Dillon. In all the confusion and mayhem over the last thirty minutes, my head became… twisted. When that happens, I sometimes forget things. It just occurred to me I know some information about you that can send your whole world spinning to the fucking ground as well.”
At this, Dillon lifted a curious brow, his eyes as narrowed as Gavin’s.
“Ah yes, my friend,” Gavin continued. A slow “I’ve got you now motherfucker” smirk slid across his mouth. “I know about your big ticket. You’re churning out your transaction-based accounts in order to make more money on the buy and sell side with your clients. Your return on assets is higher than some of the most powerful drug lords in Columbia. No wonder you don’t need my cash flow any longer. I wonder where you’re harboring all that money. You don’t live like you’re on top of the world, so I’m sure it’s buried somewhere. When one partakes in illegal doings, it’s safe to assume they need to appear… frugal in their spending.”
“Fuck you,” Dillon hissed. “I only make money for my clients.”
“Right,” Gavin drawled. “Will that be your defense when the Security Exchange Commission starts ripping into your files? The investigation’s a phone call away.” Gavin slid into the booth right next to Dillon. If it was possible, Dillon leaned farther against the wainscoting. Gavin chuckled at Dillon’s attempt to all but camouflage himself alongside a signed photo of Magic Johnson. “Emily,” Gavin said calmly, staring into Dillon’s eyes. “Go ask the hostess for a piece of paper and pen for me, sweets.”
“Okay,” Emily answered, turning to do as he said.
Nostrils flaring and breathing picking up, Dillon cleared his throat. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Gavin popped a smirk, resting his chin in his palm as he continued to stare at Dillon. “I’m getting rid of poison. We’re about to come to a… truce, Dillon. A halfway mark. You’re going to sign, in your finest penmanship, a piece of paper saying you’re no longer going to fuck with me or Emily. I’m no fool. I know you can petition the courts to try to gain access to the doctors’ visits and delivery. I’m willing to be a nice guy and allow you to the doctors’ visits because I’ll be there and I’m more than sure you’ll be on your best behavior in front of my girlfriend. That’s where I draw the line.
“You will not be in the delivery room while she gives birth. You have no right. That’s reserved for her and me, no matter whose child this is. You’re also not dragging me to court because I beat your ass when you deserved nothing less than a slow death. Try to challenge me by not signing, and I’m on the phone first thing in the morning with my lawyer, who’s a pitbull who’ll rip you to shreds in court, and the SEC.” Gavin paused, his smirk widening. “Looks like you and I might be doing a bid upstate together, Dillon. And orange would most definitely look better on me than you.”
Before Dillon had a chance to mutter a word, Emily returned with a blank piece of paper and pen. She handed them to Gavin, and he started writing down everything necessary to cover his ass. Once finished, he slid the paper and pen to Dillon. Gavin’s dimple deepened with his beaming smile. “Your John Hancock makes this relatively easy for us all. No Hancock, and my phone call tomorrow makes it quite difficult. Wouldn’t you agree?” Gavin could recall two times in his life when he wanted to stop time dead in its tracks. Hold the minute hand down, preventing it from ticking by another second. The most important was the first time he saw Emily. Next was right now, staring at the man he loathed more than words could define. Gavin observed Dillon’s eyes drooping in this battles defeat. His shoulders slumped, and his face held not a hint of victory. After what appeared to be a moment’s hesitation, Gavin watched Dillon sign the paper. Rising from his seat, Gavin swiped the paper from the table. For the second time tonight, without another threatening reminder spoken, Dillon surged to his feet, exiting the dinner like a flaming bat out of hell.