Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
He shook his head. “No. She’s not going back. It’s her. Without even showing her the photo I know. When she walked in the room, she looked familiar. I kept looking at her, trying to figure out why. She looks like her mom.”
“She’s twenty-nine,” Locke stated, as if we hadn’t all heard the doctor say that. “When did you know her mother?!”
He was pissed, and I wanted to laugh. Not the time though. I’d save that shit for later.
Mal inhaled deeply, then blew it out slowly before turning to look at his son. “Raven was your biological mother’s cousin.”
Whoa. Holy fuck.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Locke sounded as if he’d just been kicked in the gut.
“Like I told you, I was with your mom off and on for a few years. One summer, her cousin came to visit. Ravina was hard to overlook. Beautiful, wild, hard to see anyone but her when she was around. We…connected.”
“You mean you fucked,” Locke spat.
“Yeah. That too.”
Locke ran his hand through his hair and stalked across the room, putting space between him and his father.
Shortly after Locke had been born, his mom had disappeared. We all knew where she had gone and what had happened to her because Garrett had handled it. She’d shook Locke and screamed at him. Mal had walked in the house in time to witness it. But Mal never wanted to give Locke those details. He married Celeste—his current ex-wife—because he needed a mother for Locke. They were a shit show from day one, but she got pregnant and had Gathe. They tried to make it work—or she did at least—but in the end, the boys were better with them apart. Celeste was as much of a mom to Locke as she was to Gathe though. Locke had never gone without.
“I’ll go call Blaise,” Linc said. “You’d better come with me.”
Mal nodded and followed Linc out of the room.
The rest of the room—Bane, Oz, Fender, and Jonas, who had all remained silent—seemed to exhale at the same time.
“Holy fuck,” Bane muttered, looking at his dad.
Fender nodded his head in agreement.
“Why did I not know that Celeste wasn’t your biological mom?” Oz asked Locke.
Locke stood with his hands behind his head as he stared at the backyard. “Because she was the only mom that mattered.”
He didn’t look at any of us. I couldn’t blame him really.
“Did all of you fuck around like that back then?” Bane asked, then zeroed in on his dad. “You don’t have any kids floating around out there that Mom doesn’t know about, do you?”
Fender almost smiled when he shook his head. “No. The moment I met your mother, I was done.”
“He has always been a psycho where Grissele is concerned,” I added.
I might have lived in Ocala back when they met, but I knew that man’s eyes had never wandered. It was disgusting.
Fender smirked at my description.
“That’s not an exaggeration,” Jonas chimed in. “Grissele has owned him from day one.”
Oz narrowed his eyes as he stared at his father. “And you? Did Mom own you from day one?”
“Your dad stalked your mother until she finally caved and went on a date with him,” Fender told him.
This bunch needed their heads examined. Now, Linc had joined the ranks of lunatics who had locked it down to one cunt. It was like a disease, seeping into everyone. I’d be damned if it ever got me.
I walked over to the bar and got down a bottle of Carver’s special batch.
“You gonna drink before lunch?” Fender asked me, sounding like the boring married man that he was.
“Yeah, I think I am, seeing as the girl I was trying to save is Mal’s long-lost daughter, Thaddeus is going to show up at any minute to find out she’s not going anywhere, and, well, because I like this fucking whiskey.”
I put the bottle to my lips and took a long pull from it. Screw getting a glass.
After taking a long drink, I held the bottle out to Locke. “You want some? Fuck knows you need it.”
He looked at the bottle, then at me. Just when I thought he was going to say no, he reached out and took it.
“Probably real fucking relieved I stopped that kiss you were about to move in for,” I drawled.
He glared at me.
“Too soon?” I asked.
Instead of responding, he took another long drink, and I chuckled.
“Jesus, Luther, don’t start,” Fender told me.
I shrugged and held out my hand for the bottle. “All right, that one is mine. Go get your own if you’re going to drink away the sorrow.” When he shoved it at me, I took it and headed over for the sofa.
“Is anyone else wondering why her fa—the Halsten man was calling her by her sister’s name and why she was going along with it?” Oz asked.