THE CHASE - Connor x OC (I Am Sequel)

Chapter 8

I opened up my mailbox and saw the small packet of documents from the Internation Adoption Society. The manilla folder was a little damp, probably from the rain yesterday. I took a deep breath before opening it.

"Twins?" I exclaimed. I'm not ready for twins. Gavin isn't ready for twins. I only prepped a room for one baby, not two. Did I mark that on the application? What happened?

I read the letter which was unceremoniously tucked in the very back of the packet.

Dear Nick Lance,

The International Adoption Society accepted your application 58 days ago. Recognizing the spike in the number of orphaned human and android children, your application was set for rapid review due to your excellent background check, and financial stability.

I suppose my bitching to that lady worked...

Unfortunately, no single children could be matched to you for your specifications. We were able to locate a pair of twins from Egypt - Hamza and Ahmed - two boys in need of loving fathers. You can select one of the twins, but we highly recommend keeping families together. We may also not be able to guarantee that we can separate the twins. If we cannot meet your request, and you reject the offer, you will be moved to a waitlist which can be for up to 5 years.

It is imperative that if you wish to adopt the twins you respond within 30 days, and within 180 days pick them up from our orphanage in Cairo.

Thank you,

IAS

So, I don't have a choice. That's what I gathered from that. I picked up the phone and called Gavin.

"So...tell me...how do you feel about twins, honey?"

"Twins? Don't tell me-"

"They gave us twins! Yay..." I cheered weakly. I sat down the curb.

"Well-well can't you reject them?" Gavin stuttered.

"No," I explained. "If we reject them we get placed on a waitlist for 5 years."

"5? 5 years?"

"Yeah...well up to 5 years, but we both know what that means."

"I guess we're having twins, Nick."

"I guess we are, Gavin."

I hung up the phone and purchased tickets for Cairo 5 days from today. I can't help but think that Charlotte is going to kill me. In two days we have an undercover mission which could change our life...and I'll be gone for 6 months on paternity leave.

I guess I'll hold off on telling her for a minute.

She's going to fucking kill you, Nick.

I know. I know. Maybe she'll understand though.

No, wait.

I trust Charlotte with my fucking life. She will absolutely understand. She won't just understand, she'll be happy for me. I still can't tell her today. If I do, she might panic before the undercover investigation. We can't have that. We might very well have the biggest arrest of our careers, and if Charlotte is even slightly thrown-off, that will upset her. More so, if we miss him, we have the fucking FBI on our asses.

God. Federal agents. They're all dickheads. They're cocky, and stupid, and insanely fucking lost. Charlotte doesn't know that though, and she's way too trusting. She won't act like it but, someone could take a shit on her desk and she'd apologize to them. And she'd still trust them with a firearm. God knows that if she meets a federal agent, she'll trust her fucking life with him. After all, they had to get a badge somehow.

Newsflash, Charlotte, dicks get badges too. I got one, didn't I?

And I can't tell her not to trust him. She'll probably throw back that I just had a bad hookup with one in my 20s, so I'm just being sensitive about all of them.

Again, newsfuckingflash, Charlotte. You learn a lot about a person in the bedroom. And I learned that every single federal agent, is a dickhead.

No excuses. Nada. All of them. There isn't a single good one. All of them are bad. And that's the fucking reality.

Maybe Hank was right and I should've gotten out of the game a long time ago. I'm already too hard boiled. It can't be normal. I'm 30 and bitching to myself about federal agents while sitting on a sidewalk curb outside of my own house.

God damn it, Nick. Grow the fuck up...