Ready Or Not

Ch 10 - Fucked

** Luke's POV **

So what does a 21 year old guy do when he receives a call from his lawyer informing him that someone is requesting that he take a paternity test? He flips the fuck out.

Thank God I was alone. I had just moved into the house that I bought in Sydney before the tour started. We'd been home for a whole three days when I got that call that would change the rest of my life.

"How's it going, Luke?" Scott asked when I answered.

I had no idea why he'd be calling me, but assumed it was something about the house. "Hey, Scott. Everything's good. Just getting settled in the new house. What's up?"

Scott cleared his throat before continuing. "I've been contacted by Amy Wheeler, a lawyer in the States. Nashville, Tennessee to be exact. She has a client who is claiming that she is pregnant with your child."

I took a seat right there on the floor where I was walking because my legs were suddenly like jelly.

When I didn't say anything, Scott continued. "Now, Mrs. Wheeler has insisted that this woman, a Jordyn McIntyre, has requested that we go about this as discreetly as possible. The good news is, at least it seems that this lady isn't doing this for attention. The bad news is that, by wanting to keep it private, it's probably legit." He paused for me to respond. "Luke? Are you with me?"

Shock now had me in autopilot mode. I was numb and didn't hear much of what he said. "Yeah, I'm here. Uh, so what do I have to do?"

Scott went on to tell me that if I cooperated, we could do all of the legal crap privately, without getting the courts involved. He could arrange for me to come into his office to have the test done, which merely consisted of someone swabbing my cheek. That way I wouldn't be seen having it done in a hospital or clinic or whatever. The results could take up to two weeks. But if I was willing to spend the money, it could be a lot quicker than that. And if it turned out that I was indeed the father, we'd discuss things further when we found out the results. I was thankful for that plan, because my brain couldn't handle anything else at the moment.

Of course I was willing to do whatever it took to keep things quiet. I didn't want another living soul to know about it, including my mum. Especially my mum. Oh my god. If I really had fathered a child, I didn't even want to think how Mum would react. She's great, she really is. But even now, she tends to be a little overbearing and protective, especially of me, because I'm the baby of the family. That was the main reason why I finally bought my own house, even though I'd only be staying in it about three months of the year.

I wanted to get the test over with as soon as possible, so Scott said to come on over and he'd work on getting someone there to collect the sample.

On the drive over, my brain wasn't working and I couldn't remember what he had said the woman's name was. Not that I would be able to put the name to a face. Unless... Could it be that one girl I slipped up and didn't use a condom with? That would be the most likely culprit, obviously. I'd thought about it a few times right after it happened, but hadn't given it any thought in some time. And I couldn't remember her name. Jessica? Jenny? I was pretty sure it started with a J or maybe it was a G? Dammit, I could remember her gorgeous face like it was yesterday. But I sucked at names.

It drove me crazy trying to figure it out on the way there. I was asking Scott what her name was as I walked through his door. When he said "Jordyn" I knew it was exactly who I was thinking of. I remembered thinking it was a pretty name. And she was a damn pretty girl. I also remembered how different she was. I mean, she was just your average girl-next-door type, but that's what made her different from what I was used to fucking around with. And that's why, out of the countless girls I'd been with, I remembered her. That oddly put me at ease. A little.

I let the lab dude swab my cheek, talked to Scott a few minutes about getting the results, and headed back home. As soon as I closed the kitchen door behind me, that's when I flipped out.

I'd never had to deal with such a huge issue before. And anything that I did have to deal with, my mum always helped me through it. But it was at a time when I was trying to prove my independence, so running home to Mummy wasn't an option. But talking to Michael was.

Yeah, I know. Michael: "The Mouth of the South," as I called him. But out of the band, I was closest to him. And I had no one else that wouldn't go straight to my mum. I wanted to keep it to myself until I knew 100% for sure that I was the father. Except I had to vent to someone because talking to myself wasn't cutting it. I felt like I was going to explode. Or implode.

I sent Michael a text.

To Mike: Are you busy?

Luckily, he answered right away.

From Mike: Nope. What up?

To Mike: Can you come over? Like right now.

From Mike: omw

He must have taken the hint that it was important, because he didn't ask questions.

It's a wonder I didn't wear out the floor from pacing while waiting on him. Twenty minutes later he was there.

"Bro, what's going on?" Seeing Michael genuinely concerned was almost humorous, and in most instances, I would have laughed my ass off. It wasn't something one saw often. But I wasn't in a laughing mood.

"Mike, swear to me that this will stay between us. You won't tell Cal or Ash, or anyone. Okay? Say it. Say you swear."

"Geez, Luke. Yeah. I swear I won't tell anyone. I promise. What is it, mate?"

"I fucked up, Mike. I really fucked up."
I told him everything from the unprotected sex to the call from Scott and the subsequent DNA swab.

"Damn. You really did fuck up."

My sarcastic side revealed itself at that moment. "Thanks for the words of encouragement. I appreciate it." I even gave him a thumbs up.

Michael just watched me in silence for a couple of minutes as the last of my sanity slipped away.

"What the actual fuck am I going to do with a baby?!" I was frantically pacing back and forth, running my hands through my hair like a mad man. "FUCK!!" I yelled one more time, at a loss for what to say or do. How could I have been so fucking careless?!

Michael, who I completely expected to come off with some idiotic shit as usual, offered his two cents. "I don't know, bro. But I do know one thing."

He paused too long for my liking. I hated when he did that. I held out my hands and shrugged, nonverbally asking "What?" so he'd get on with whatever stupidity he was getting ready to say.

With a dead serious face, he said, "Liz is gonna fucking murder your ass."

He'd never been more right about anything ever.

As it all it hit me, I broke down into a hysterical laughing/crying fit. I really had no idea how I felt or how I should be feeling. I only knew one thing:  I was fucked.