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“But not with you.”
“Ouch?” J.T. retorts, clearly confused regarding the right response to have.
“I think we need to go talk to Monica.”
“I don’t think so!” Evie screeches in the background.
Ignoring her is fairly easy considering how often I do it. “When you say we do you happen to mean like the royal we?”
“No.” His hands casually slide into his pockets. “I mean the actual we. As in you and me.”
“As in you, Wes, and me, Bryn?”
“Say it in an octave lower and that shit would sound like Tarzan porn,” Puppet Boy impishly points out under his breath.
My mouth twitches a smirk when the man standing definitely states, “Yes. We as in the two of us. Together. United.” Wes lets his head angle slightly to the side. “I want you there with me.” He briefly presses his lips together before correcting. “I need you there with me.”
“For an alilie?”
“Alibi,” corrects the male beside me.
“Depends on what he plans to do to her once we’re inside her room.”
“Talk.”
Pursing my lips together in disgust can’t be helped.
“Look, putting aside the test results-”
“We should not put those aside,” I swiftly interject while shaking my head. “We should definitely focus on those. On the fact you are not related. That that fucking head hunting Hirogen isn’t going to be an aunt to our unborn child.”
“Ooph,” mumbles Puppet Boy. “She brought out Voyager. That’s a new level of hatred, dude.”
Wes struggles not to smirk at the comment prior to sighing, “I understand where you’re coming from, little prey-”
“Then this conversation should be over.”
“However-”
“I hate that word almost more than that show.”
“However…Monica and I are still connected.”
“A restraining order will take care of that.”
“Despite those test results, my father did have an affair with her mother.”
Chomping on my cookie is the only rebuttal I can make.
“My father was around for her birth.”
Another harsh bite is executed.
“And he cared enough about the two of them to go to extreme lengths to ensure they were well taken care of, literally until her dying day.”
Slowly chewing what remains in its entirety becomes my wordless surrender.
“She’s most likely hurting, Bryn.” The sight of his shoulders falling prompts my own to do the same. “She has no one else in her life. She most likely feels abandoned. Helpless. Hopeless. Isolated. Like the only thing she has left in this world is work.” Undeniable sympathy invades his stare. “I know exactly what that’s like.”
