"Yeah."Nick glances between Brian and me."You boys want to join?"
Brian shakes his head, retrieving his thrown water bottle."Got orders coming in at Six-Pack.Need to sort out this security system mess."
"Cole?"
But I barely hear Emma's question.Rage pulses through my veins as I picture some bastard leaving threats at Alisha's door.My knuckles crack as I flex my fingers.If the cameras at Six-Pack hadn't malfunctioned that night...if I'd gotten a better look at the fucker who put his hands on her...
"I'm good," I manage to say."You three go ahead."
Once they leave, I turn back to the bag.Each punch lands with brutal force as memories of Alisha's bruised face flash through my mind.The sick bastard who hurt her is still out there, still threatening her, and I'm standing here unable to do a damn thing about it.
The bag takes my fury until my muscles scream for mercy.Only then do I head for the showers, trying to wash away the helpless anger coating my skin like a second layer of sweat.
* * *
The momentmy ass hits the cushion of my outdoor chair, I let out an exhausted breath.Eleven hours of hammering out contracts, and all I want is to lose myself in this view.Downtown Boston spreads out before me, city lights starting to twinkle in the dusk.The static hum of traffic below usually soothes my mind, but tonight my thoughts keep circling back to that threat letter.To Alisha.
My phone's shrill ring shatters the evening quiet.Unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Good evening, Sir."A woman's professional tone crackles through the speaker."This is Emily Miller.I apologize for calling so late, but I'm trying to reach Mr.Cole Walker."
I straighten in my chair."Speaking."
She releases a heavy breath."Oh, thank goodness.I've been searching everywhere for you.Do you know a woman named Jessica Davis?"
The name hits like a punch to the gut.Memories I'd rather forget surface—my father's death, months in Los Angeles I've spent fifteen years trying to erase."Why are you asking about Jessica?"
"I'm Emily Miller from the Department of Children and Family Services in Los Angeles."She pauses, and something in my chest tightens."Miss Davis has passed away."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but Jessica and I haven't seen each other in fifteen years."My fingers drum against the armrest."Why are you calling me?"
"I'm looking for Samantha's father."
"Who's Samantha?"
"Samantha is Miss Davis's daughter."
"Look, I can't help you with that.I wish you luck—"
"Please, Mr.Walker.Don't hang up."
"Why not?"
"Because Samantha might be your daughter."
My brain short-circuits."That's ridiculous.What kind of game are you playing—"
"It says here, on Samantha's birth certificate, that Cole Walker is her biological father."
The city lights blur before my eyes.One word escapes my numb lips: "What?"
The phone nearly slips from my suddenly sweaty palm.Jessica Davis.Fifteen years.A daughter.Mydaughter?The carefully ordered pieces of my life scatter like leaves in a storm.
First Alisha stirring up emotions I'd rather ignore, and now this?So much for my perfectly uncomplicated life.
4
