“Don’t you see it?”
My eyes narrowed as they fell on the face of the main guy in the image. “Shit, Harper. What the fuck, I don’t have time for this. What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“He looksexactlylike you, Nix.”
I felt a mixture of shock and anxiety, and I peered down into the snap, taking in the brown eyes, square jaw, and dark hair.
What the fuck?
Recognition pulsed into my senses as I held the photo at a distance and then drew it back. She was right, there was a resemblance.
All the muscles in my stomach clenched.
My eyes darted to hers, and a bark of laughter split my lips. “What are you saying, that themayoris myfather? Fuck, no way.” I whisper-shouted, glancing down the tunnel before pushing the photo towards her chest. She grabbed it.
“Why else would your mother be here?” Harper volleyed back as a couple moved past us and walked down the tunnel.
Crap. I didn’t have time to get my head around what she was saying.
“But she said my father didn’t know I existed, so why would she be here now?” Nothing made sense, and it suddenly felt like there were fingers around my throat, and they were getting tighter.
Mayor fucking Summers? No way.
“Maybe she’s here to make things right. Tell him he has a sonbeforeyou find out. To warn him or something? At the sleepover at Storm’s, he had a file with her new address in there. They’re connected, Nix, they have a past.”
I released another strained laugh. Was Dominic Summers my dad? No freaking way was Ithatunlucky.
The emotions running through me wereoverpowering.
An angry mist was forming. Harper was speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words until I felt her tiny hand thread its way through one of mine.
“Phoenix, look at me,” she hissed, cupping my jaw with her free hand and aligning my head so she could reason with my flailing ass.
“Where are they now?”
Shaking my head, I managed to bring myself back from wherever the hell I’d just been. “Alex said they’re in the Press Box.”
I could see from the determination on her face that my girl was with me.
“Let’s go and get some answers,” Harper said firmly, grabbing her bag and shoving the photo inside. She then slid her arm through mine and pulled me down the tunnel
It was then that it hit me, like a sledgehammer.
There is a great possibility that you have found your father.
Disappointment was like the soundtrack of my life, and now it was time to change the record. I felt the buzz of a possible reckoning in my blood. Endless questions and an almost crippling fear only drove me forward as Harper, and I made our way up the stairwell.
The feelings I was experiencing were conflicted, just like those I had grappled with when I met my birth mother.
Following the signs to the VIP suites, we found the right corridor to the Press Box. Harper, who was now holding my hand, whispered. “Are you sure you're ready for this?”
Releasing a ragged breath, I glanced down at her. “I have no clue about anything right now. But I’m glad you’re here,” I replied honestly, squeezing her hand.
“Me too,” she said with a sympathetic expression.
My brother came into view. He was sitting on a chair outside the door to the Press Box, playing something on his phone.
He must have sensed our presence as he lowered his cell and stood up, smiling. I couldn’t return it. I was too het up. My palms were even sweating.
