With that, she turns and rushes out the door, leaving me with so many fucking questions and absolutely no answers.
I rear back as I watch her scamper away. There’s one question that keeps reverberating around in my mind, and that’s,What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?
“Who’s this?” Data asks having returned from the bar with fresh beers in hand.
“I don’t know,” I admit, “but she’s cute as hell. The woman who gave her to me said she’s mine, though, Data.”
“Did she give you any information?” he questions looking off in the direction where the woman disappeared.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I answer, “Yeah, she said it was in the diaper bag.”
Right now, I feel like I’ve been transported to the twilight zone or something. Becca looks at me and asks, “Is she your little girl, Prophet?”
“I think so,” I reply, gazing at the baby’s face. She’s the perfect blend of Rosa and me and my heart suddenly starts beating so fast I feel a bit faint.
“Come and sit down, brother, we’ll get this figured out,” Data says.
“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Prophet?” Colt asks as he walks over to where I’m sitting with Data as he looks over the papers that we pulled out of the diaper bag while I feed her.
My daughter.
Camille Rose Cortez. Of course, I’ll be getting that changed as soon as possible since Iamlisted on the birth certificate. Data has his ever-present laptop, as well as a notebook and he’s jotting shit down that I’ll need to take care of as soon as possible.
“What’s up?” I question.
“There’s a… there’s a woman sitting in her car outside of the gates and she’s been crying ever since she left. I didn’t know what to do, so I left Preston up there and came to find you.”
Shit. I bet it’s the woman who brought Camille to me and then left like her ass was on fire. There’s no way I want to take the baby outside since it’s a bit chilly, so I look around the room and spy Rebel and Holly. “Pres? Need y’all for a few minutes.”
I’m unsure how no one has actually come up to the table yet, unless it’s the fact that the alcohol is copiously flowing. I know that Esther and Paul are keeping an eye on Mina, Ruby, Becca, and little PJ so the adults can enjoy themselves, but the fact that Data and I have been sitting hereandI’m holding a baby, and nobody has nosed their way into the situation is a bit strange.
Rebel and Holly walk over and the first thing out of his mouth is, “What the fuck? Whose baby is that?”
“Apparently, she’s mine,” I admit. “Seems Rosa didn’t want me to know she was pregnant.”
“And how is it that you have her now?” Holly asks, holding her hands out. I give her the baby and watch as she expertly burps her, grinning when I hear the loud belch coming from such a tiny little thing.
“Uh, some woman dropped her off then left,” I reply. “In fact, that’s why I called y’all over. She’s apparently just outside of the gate, crying her eyes out. I need to see what the fuck is going on.”
“Go, we’ve got this,” Rebel instructs.
I don’t waste any time as I stand and head out of the clubhouse toward the SUV that I can see just outside of the gates.
When I make it to her vehicle, I don’t immediately knock on the window because she’s got her head bent over the steering wheel and even though they’re rolled up and closed, I can hear her obvious grief. Granted, I don’t know what or who she’s grieving, but once she calms, I intend to take her back into the clubhouse so I can get some answers.
I stand there for about ten minutes before she finally sits back, her cheeks rosy from crying and tears still running down her face. Before I can knock, she turns her head and seeing me standing there like a stalker, screams as though she’s being killed.
Rolling the window down, she asks, “Eli? Why are you out here? Where’s Cami?”
Cami. It’s a cute nickname for the little girl who’s apparently my daughter.
“I’m out here because one of our prospects saw you break down when you pulled through the gates. My president and his wife have Cami,” I reply. “How about you come back inside with me, and we’ll go somewhere a bit more private so I can ask you some questions.”
“I-I-I’m sorry that I just bolted like I did. I didn’t… I didn’t think it would be so hard to hand her over, even though you’re her father,” she admits.
“Pull back into the lot and park,” I suggest. “You can see where the other cars are at, the bikes have priority and are in front of the clubhouse.”