Page 72 of Madden

As much as I want to believe it’s true, too much isn’t adding up. I hate to think she’d use a baby as a ploy to convince me to be with her.

I’ve always thought Hanna was calculated. Every step she makes is methodical. We grew up together, went to the same high school, and ran with the same crowd.

She wasn’t from the music industry and wasn’t tarnished by fame. I thought that meant I could trust her, and maybe she wasn’t after me for my money.

“Well, congratulations, Hanna, but forgive me when I say I won’t believe it until I get a paternity test confirming it’s mine.”

“What?” she screeches, turning in her seat to look at me. Her jaw clenches, and she’s practically shooting daggers my way.

I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white and shake my head.

“It’s not, and we both know it. I don’t know what you’re trying to do right now, but it won’t work.”

I shift the car into drive, revving the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. You need to get out.”

“You’re making a mistake, Madden.”

“You keep saying this, but the only mistakes I’ve made are coming here and messing around with you.”

She quickly blinks her eyes, fighting off the forming tears.

“You don’t mean it,” she grits. “Take it back.”

“Please get out.” She reaches for the door handle before I stop her. “I’m going to say this to you one last time. Please leave me alone. I’ll be in touch with my lawyers and we’ll figure out arranging the paternity test.”

The tears she was holding back give way, streaming down her face. I swallow past the ball of guilt forming in my throat, knowing if I give her any sign of sympathy, she’ll twist it to mean something else.

I wait until she’s back on the sidewalk before I gun it down the road.

I should’ve known better than to come here. What the hell was I thinking?

The entire way back to my house, all I can think about is how I’m going to break this to Brielle.

I should’ve ordered Hanna to show me some sort of proof. I can’t explain it, other than the feeling in my gut, but I don’t believe she’s pregnant for a second.

There’s no foolproof way of preventing pregnancy, but the few times we were together, I wore protection, and she told me she was on birth control.

My phone rings. It’s connected to my car Bluetooth, cutting off my music. I jam the button on my steering wheel to answer the call.

“Hi,” I say dejectedly.

I hadn’t paid attention to my tone before, but now that I’m talking to Brielle, I’m keenly aware of the growl in my voice.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, picking up on it right away.

I turn into my drive, and the gate slowly opens. It’s not until I see it close behind me that I exhale a low sigh and shake my head.

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t even know.”

“Madden, what does that mean? What happened?”

I pull into the garage and cut the engine, leaning against the headrest and squeezing my eyes shut.

“I need you here,” I say, the words hitting me in the chest.