Free One More Time by RB Hilliard

I noticed Dillon. He was standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face. Brutus was sitting at his feet, also staring at me. An embarrassed flush warmed my face, before I noticed the giant bulge in the front of his jeans. Really? My eyes drifted from his crotch to his face where our eyes met and held for a minute. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen. Brutus followed behind him and I wanted to shout, “Bad dog!” Instead, I fought the urge to laugh. If that little scene turned him on, just wait. He hadn’t seen anything yet.
    Dillon and Brutus stayed in the kitchen until I was finished feeding and changing Amelia. When they reappeared, I patted the sofa beside me, hoping he would sit so I could explain why I was here. He didn’t. Instead, he plucked a dirty looking dishtowel from an overstuffed chair across from me and tossed it onto the floor, before sinking down.
    Taking this as my cue to talk, I began. “I need you to take a paternity test.”
    His eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open. Apparently, it hadn’t crossed his mind he could be the father. His surprised gaze drifted down to Amelia, who was now asleep on my lap, and then back to me.
    “That is not my kid,” he said, slowly shaking his head back and forth.
    His denial caused something ugly to twist deep inside of me. I lifted Amelia onto my shoulder as if to protect her from him, before staring him in the eyes and continuing. “Maybe she is, maybe she’s not. Either way, I need to know.”
    He swept me with a cold stare before stating, “Not from me, you don’t.”
    The chill in his voice made my stomach clinch. He has to .
    “Please, Dillon?” I calmly asked. “All you have to do is take a simple blood test. Once we find out the results, we’ll be on our way and you’ll never have to see us again.” His unblinking stare was too much and I had to look away.
    “Why are you here, Isabella? Why aren’t you in Charleston right now having this conversation with whatshisface?”
    The icy cold tone of his voice made me snap. “Because, Dillon, if you don’t take this blood test and prove, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you are Amelia’s biological father, whatshisface is going to take her from me!” I shouted. Amelia jumped in my arms but quickly settled back down.
    A myriad of undecipherable expressions flitted over his face, but all he said was, “Explain.”
    So I did. I explained how I came to discover I was pregnant and how Jimmy threatened me when he found out about it. I told him about Sally taping the conversation and the restraining order. Then I told him about the night Amelia was born and how I had slipped in the puddle of water, hit my head on the side of the counter and ruptured a portion of my placenta. “If Sally hadn’t come home when she did, the baby and I both might not have made it.” I explained how Sally found me and how I had to stay in the hospital for two weeks recovering. Finally, I pulled out the letter sent three days ago by Jimmy’s lawyer informing me I had until the end of the month to legally name James Marsden as the father or he would sue for sole custody.
    “He’s going to take her from me, Dillon.” I gave Amelia a squeeze and she snorfled in her sleep. “He has money and connections. I sell songs, gig on Saturdays at my uncle’s bar and teach guitar lessons part time. I can’t compete.”
    “What if she is his, Isabella? What then?” he asked.
    “Then I’ll have a very different fight on my hands. Look, I don’t want anything from you except a paternity test. I promise, as soon as we get the results, we’ll be out of your hair. Please Dillon. Please do this for me…for her?” I pleaded.
    He stared at Amelia for a minute before nodding his head. “Fine, we can go first thing in the morning. You can stay here until we find out the results.” I opened my mouth to thank him but he raised his hand to silence me. “Once we know, though, even if she