Searching for Swimmers–Chapter 40

Gabby parted the blinds just enough to peak out undetected. He was still there, sitting on the steps of her porch. He looked so pathetic that she almost felt sorry for him. Just the hormones, she thought. Why is this happening? Didn’t I go to a cryobank specifically for this reason, so I wouldn’t have to deal with some drunk fuck claiming right to my child?

            She walked back into the dining room and sat down in front of her laptop. After staring at the screen for a few minutes, she got back up again to look out the window. He was still there. “Shit.” With the security chain fastened, she cracked the front door. “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

            Jason jumped up and ran to the door.

            “Don’t think about trying your foot trick again.”

            “I won’t, but do you really think calling the cops is in your best interest?”

            “Uh, yeah. Single pregnant woman harassed by a strange drunken ass. You’d be lucky if the cops just took you to jail and didn’t lay a little resisting arrest beat down on you.”

            “That how you see it? I see it as guy has his sperm stolen by hard nose bitch. Can already hear the sound bite on the local news.”

            “I’m not sure where you’re from, but this is Texas. Here in the Lone Star state, law enforcement doesn’t take kindly to men assaulting defenseless, pregnant women in their own homes.”

            “First, by now I’m sure you know exactly where I’m from. Not to give you any credit, but you seem smarter than that. Secondly, I didn’t assault you. And last time I checked, Texas seems a bit too red to defend your life choices.”

            “True, but this is Austin, the little piece of blue in the middle of all that red.”

            “That statement just defeats your whole argument about the testosterone-riddled coppers beating down an innocent guy visiting the Lone Star state.”

            “Yeah, well regardless of the political color of this zip code, cops are cops.”

            “Which is exactly why you don’t want their interference. Hell, you don’t want my interference, but if you don’t even want to talk to me. I guess I can just walk away and call a lawyer.” Jason turned away from the door, grabbed his bag and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket.

            “I’m calling your bluff,” Gabrielle yelled.

            “Fine, I’m calling my lawyer.”

            He walked of the porch into the front yard and put the phone to his ear.

            She was pissed. Pissed that this had literally landed on her doorstep—so angry that she unwillingly unlatched the security chain on the door and stepped out onto the front porch.

            “Stop. Fucking stop. You want a conversation, you got one.”


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