Thank you for your continued support. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Stuck-Up Suit.
SAM
I barked at my driver to head to Queens before I even knew Mercedes' father's address. Luckily, there was only one Marshall Jones in the borough, or I would've been knocking on doors.
My gut told me her visit wasn't going to go well. And upon arriving on Catalpa Avenue, I had no idea if she was inside or not, so I settled in the back of my town car and waited.
I didn't have to wait long.
A few yards ahead of me, a front door flew open, and Mercedes came barreling down the walkway towards the street.
I barely made it out of the car in time to grab her; she clearly hadn't seen me.
But with that haunted look on her face, I wasn't so sure she was able to see anything at all.
She struggled in my arms at first.
"It's me, Mercedes."
At the sound of my voice, her eyes seemed to come into focus.
Sadly, I watched as they filled with tears and then she melted into my arms.
Her full weight leaned on me as I tightened my hold around her.
"I have you, baby. I have you."
She made a gut-wrenching noise and then her body began to shake, tears streaming down her beautiful face.
It physically hurt my heart.
Seeing her like that, hearing that sound of pain come from deep within, it felt like someone had cracked open my ribs and gripped my beating heart in their hands, only to nearly squeeze the life out of it.
I held her as tight as I could for a few minutes while we stood in front of the house.
When I lifted my eyes and saw a man standing in the doorway watching us...a man who from the looks of him was without a doubt Marshall Jones...I decided it was time to go.
"Come on, let's get in the car."
Mercedes never looked back as I helped her into the backseat. But I did. And her father simply nodded and watched us pull away.
The ride from Queens was quiet.
When her crying finally subsided, Mercedes kept her head on my chest and her eyes closed.
I hated that this was all my fault. I'd fucked things up between us royally.
Not only had the situation with Jennifer thrown a wrench into our relationship, but it had brought Mercedes' old demons back to the surface.
Now she was relating who I was...back to a man who had disappointed her for most of her life.
Stroking her hair, I finally broke our silence.
"I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
"No. It's not. I don't know why I went to see him. What was I expecting him to say?"
"It's only natural, baby. You're trying to make sense of his choices because of everything that's going on."
"I guess..."
"I know you left upset, but did he tell you anything that helped?"
"No. He said he couldn't tell me if he would've stayed with my mother if he hadn't met Patricia."
Fuck!
I shifted in my seat so we were facing each other.
"I need to tell you something, Mercedes. Whether I have a daughter or not, even if I had not met you, there is no way in hell I would be getting back together with Jennifer."
"But you loved her at one time, Sam."
She stared down at the floor.
"Mercedes, look at me." She lifted her head and her eyes met mine. "That woman cheated on me with my best friend and then didn't tell me that I could possibly have a child. For four years. Trust and loyalty are important to me. I wouldn't even hire someone to work in my business who I couldn't trust, no less build a life with. We are not getting back together, no matter what."
My next words came out slow, each one given careful consideration, yet I was still cautious about saying them.
"Your father could've been involved in your life while he was married to another woman. People do it all the time. He made his choices. And if you ask me, he made poor ones. I am not your father."
Just then, Mitch, my driver, interrupted.
"Mr. Evans? Are we heading back into Manhattan or to Brooklyn? The exit for the Belt Parkway is coming up."
"My place or yours?" I looked to Mercedes.
I was relieved to hear a flash of my girl come back.
"You're assuming an awful lot with that question."
"I'm just being a gentleman. You've had a tough afternoon. And I know the perfect remedy to make you feel better."
"Of course you do."
"It's my duty, and I take it very seriously."
"You know what would really make me feel better?"
"Name it."
"You, not being a gentleman."
The corners of my mouth twisted up while my dick hardened at those words.
I didn't take my eyes from hers as I spoke.
"To my place, Mitch." Then I whispered in her ear. "And to think, I was going to screw you full of nice. You never cease to amaze me, Mercedes. It would be my pleasure to leave the gentleman at the door and fuck you four ways dirty."
The next few days, things returned to normal between Mercedes and I. Her anxiety over the prospect of my having a child seemed to diminish.
During the day, I threw myself into my work, and at night, I worked just as hard at pleasing her.
If she was going to be weighing her options soon enough, I needed to make her decision to cut me loose as difficult as possible.
And pleasing her sexually was my favorite part of that plan.
On Monday morning, the lab came to my office at seven to collect my DNA. They had an appointment with Jennifer to take a sample from Madison a few hours later.
I'd paid a fortune for fast results and by Wednesday, I'd be certain whether I was a father or not.
A father.
Having never really had one of my own, the thought in itself was a novelty to me. If it was confirmed Madison was mine, there was no doubt I wanted to be involved in her life.
Although I had no fucking idea what that looked like.
What did a grown man do with a little girl who became his child overnight?
Hell if I knew. But I would learn, because her happiness was paramount.
Monday night I had to go out of town, up to Boston for a quick meeting early Tuesday morning.
My flight was delayed, so I sat in the airport reading the paper.
Before Mercedes, I started with the business section first. These days, I turned to Ask Sue, before catching up on the market watch.
Between soap operas and now reading an advice column daily, I was in danger of having my man card revoked.
Someone wrote...
Dear Sue,
My mother was recently remarried. Bob, my new stepfather, has a nineteen-year-old son, Alan, whom I had never met until three weeks ago. Alan was away at college and came home to live with us for the summer. The problem is, I'm extremely attracted to him. I'm pretty sure the attraction is mutual since the sexual tension is so thick, sometimes it's hard to breathe. Is it wrong to be with my stepbrother?
-Katie, Manhattan
Dear Katie,
While technically you are not blood-related, there is still a familial connection and many people will frown upon a relationship between the two of you. By your writing the letter, I suspect you think it's not right to be with Alan, and you're looking for someone to give you permission to go against your own beliefs. My advice to you is to be true to yourself, and the rest will fall into place.
I texted Mercedes.
Sam: I'd do you even if you were my stepsister.
Mercedes: LOL. You read the column?
Sam: I do and I did. I like to figure out which ones you have a part in responding to.
Mercedes: How can you tell which ones I responded to?
Sam: I just can.
Mercedes: Did I write today's response?
Sam: Do I get a prize if I answer correctly?
Mercedes: I thought I gave you your prize last night.
Damn. That she did.
For a few minutes, while she was sucking me off, I thought about getting my own tongue pierced just so she could feel that cold metal ball all over her nether regions.
But my staff would surely think I'd lost my mind entirely, if I walked into a Monday morning staff meeting tripping over my words with a swollen, bedazzled tongue.
It was bad enough this morning I was smiling in the middle of the meeting when my mind wandered.
When I didn't respond right away, Mercedes knew what I was doing.
Mercedes: You're thinking about last night, aren't you?
Sam: I am. And it makes me want to leave the airport and blow off my morning meeting. Blow off for a blow job?
Mercedes: Perv. So…did I write any part of the response to poor Katie today?
Sam: Not one damn word.
Mercedes: Very good. What about yesterday? The woman who was stealing from her elderly uncle's change jars?
Sam: Prisons are filled with people who started with petty theft.
Mercedes: OMG! How did you know? That was literally the only sentence Sue kept from my response.
Sam: I know...because I know you.
Mercedes: That's a little bit scary!
Tell me about it. I'm scared fucking shitless these days.
My flight had just begun boarding when my phone buzzed in my hand. At first, I thought it was another text from Mercedes, but my smile dropped seeing Jennifer's name flash on the screen.
For a brief moment I considered not answering it, but then I realized it could be about Madison.
"Jennifer."
"Sam. How are you?"
"Busy. Is everything okay with Madison?"
"She's fine."
"What do you want then?"
She sighed loudly into the phone.
"You're going to have to learn to speak civilly to me. I don't want our daughter exposed to the way you bark at me."
"Our daughter? You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you? The test doesn't come back until Wednesday morning."
"It's just a formality for me. I know in my heart she's yours."
"How fucking nice for you! Perhaps you could've shared that little bit of information a little earlier. I don't know…say…four years ago?"
"Stop yelling at me!"
"Stop calling me!"
Another sigh of frustration. If I didn't know better, I'd swear this woman had balls. Giant ones, bigger than her head.
"Listen. I'm boarding a plane. I need to hang up."
"Where are you going?"
"That's none of your damn business. I'm hanging up, Jennifer."
"Wait! I called for a reason. I want to be there when you get the results on Wednesday morning..."
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"It's the opposite of yes. Perhaps you should've tried saying it four years ago when my best friend told you to spread your legs."
"Sam..."
"No. We're not a happy family waiting for the stick to show a plus sign. I'm waiting to find out if you've robbed me of four years of my daughter's life. Either way, it won't be a Hallmark moment, and you won't be sharing it with me."
"I'm coming to your office on Wednesday."
"I'm warning you not to."
There had been muffled sounds of traffic in the background, and they suddenly quieted.
"Jennifer?"
The bitch hung up on me.
Stay safe!