CHAPTER II

SAMANTHA

      Samantha slowly lifts her head, mentally denying that her greatest fear had caught up with her. Silently praying that the ground will suddenly open and swallow her whole, with her son. She lifts her head only to be caught by the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. It was like those eyes are trying to ask her something and accusing her at the same time.Something that was far more different from the last time those eyes landed on hers.

      “You know him, mom?”, her thoughts were interrupted by her son’s voice. She was about to answer him when the host of the party talked and asked everyone to gather around the birthday girl and sing Happy Birthday.

         Samantha grabs her son and took the chance to escape as they got swamped with the crowd and went for the exit, almost running without even bothering a glance back.

         “Are we going home, mommy?”, he asked innocently.

         “Yes, honey. I forgot I have an important thing to do,” she answered, having a hard time catching her breath. She was relieved to finally see her car.

          “But I didn’t get to sing ‘Happy Birthday’,”

          “That’s okay sweetheart. There are a lot of kids out there and all of them will wish her a happy birthday,” she said with a smile as she settles her son in the car seat. “I really am sorry, honey. But I’m sure Angelica will love the gift you picked for her,” she said.

          “You, think so?”

           “I know so,” she said and smiled. “Now, I need you to stay put, okay? We will go home and have ice cream. Deal?”

           “Deal!”, he said, sounding happy. She felt relieved and got up. She closed the door and to her horror, he was standing there, with his arms folded into his chest.

           “I got to say, you don’t seem like the kind who participates in the marathon,” he said jokingly, but not looking funny at all.

            “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you,” she said and turned her back on him. She  was able to open the door of the driver’s seat, but was shocked by how fast he moved. He closed the door with a loud thud.

             “I’m still talking to you, damn it!”, he said with rage.

             Samantha turned and looked at him with the same rage shown in her eyes. “Oh, yeah? Well, guess what? I don’t want to talk to you!”, she said angrily.

              “Well, I’m not asking for your permission. You will answer every question I have and you will answer with all the truth!”, he said in a low but clear voice. And Samantha swore, even his breatheshouts dominance.

               “Let me tell you this your majesty,” she started sarcastically. “You are not the boss of me. That means you cannot order me around!”, she said, irritation visible in her voice.

                “You tell me everything I want to know, or I’ll tell him. Your choice, babe,” he said with a smirk. The looks he has tells her that he meant every single word he said.

                “You wouldn’t dare!”, she said, silently praying that he can’t see how terrified she is right now.

                “Oh, yeah? Try me,” he responded, challenging her.

                She was silent for a moment. Not bothering to blink. She sends him look as sharp as daggers. If only looks could kill, you were dead a minute ago, she mentally said.

                “If looks could kill, I’m dead,”

                “It’s fascinating how were you able to read my mind. That’s what exactly what I’m thinking,” she said. She can’t help but raise an eyebrow on his remarks.

                “Alright. Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? I’m not going to ask you again. Will you answer my questions or you want me to ask him myself?”

                “Do it and I’ll kill you!”

                “Oh trust me, baby, I will. Now it’s time for you to make the decision. And make it quick. I don’t have that much patience.”

                “Fine!” she said after a while. “What do you want to ask?”

                “Let me get this straight first. One question, one answer. No lying. Unless,” he said ,then glance at her child inside the car.

                “Okay, fine! Let’s do this and get over with,” she finally said.

                “Is Samantha your real name?”

                “Yes.”

                “Is he your son?”

                “Yes.”

                “What’s his name?”

                “Tam.”

                “How old is he?”

                “Four”

                “Liar,”

                “He’s four –“

                “He’s just three years old. He just told me when we were in the bathroom.” He said, sounding confident.

                “Whatever. He’s turning four so it’s the same,” she said, trying to explain.

                “He’s mine.”

                “No.”

                “It’s not a question, Samantha,” he said. Looking at her directly. It’s like he’s trying to get the truth out of those eyes.

                “Look, Mister, you can’t just go around claiming any random kid as your child,” she said sounding matter of factly.

                “I can because he’s mine,” he insisted. “And don’t call me ‘Mister’. I’m pretty sure you remember me very well.”

                “No, he’s not yours and no, I don’t know you,” she said trying to sound tough.

                “If we,” he said, referring to the boy and him, “looking exactly the same isn’t enough of a proof to you, you’re welcome to get my specimen for a DNA test,” he continued.

                She took a deep breath.

                “Fine. What do you want, Clyde?”, she finally said.

                “My son.”

                “Yeah, like I will let that happen,” she said in a sarcastic tone.

                “As if I’m giving you a choice,” he replied.

                “Right. I’m done with all your meaningless crap. Enough talking. It’s getting late, and we really need to get going. So, if you don’t mind, move and we’ll leave you at peace,”

                “You will introduce me to him, Samatha. I want him to recognize me as his father,” he ordered.

                “And if I refuse?”, she challenged.

                “Then we will see each other in court. And just so you know, I am a very rich and influential man. So we both know where this will lead us to,”he said in a threatening tone.

                “If you want to have my son, you need to kill me first!”

                “That sounds good enough, too. Won’t even make me sweat. I can just hire someone and you’ll be gone in a snap. That would be such a waste, but, it can work,” he said smirking.

                “You murdering assh –“

                  “Oooopppsss. Watch your mouth, baby. I woudn’t want my son hearing such foul words, from you especially,”

                She looked at him accusingly. Trying to calm herself and think of a better way to get away with this bastard.

                “Mommy? Everything, okay?”, her thoughts were interrupted by a little voice. She looked on her left side only to see her son staring cluelessly at her.

                She smiled, “Yeah, everything’s fine sweetie. Get back to the car.”

                “You sure? Are you crying? Is he hurting you?”, he asked.

                She was about to respond when she saw Clyde turned to face her son. He kneeled to level his eyes with him.

                “No, buddy. I did not hurt your mom. And I am not going to. Now why don’t you do as mom says and get in? Your mom and I will just have a few moments to talk,” she can feel his smile with his voice.

                “You won’t hurt her, right sir?”

                “I won’t, I promise. Scout’s honor,”

                “Okay,”Tam answered and she watched him get inside the car.