Until she finally crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.
“No.” The sharp edge of my father’s voice makes Peyton flinch, her shoulders involuntarily tensing as if struck by an invisible force. I clench my teeth tightly, feeling a surge of unexpected anger bubbling within me, an intense desire to land a punch squarely on my father’s face for proving such a reaction in her.Where the fuck did that come from?I barely know thegirl. If anything, I feel sorry for her, but not enough to care if something so trivial frightens her.
So you say.
“I’m not going to tell you everything,” my father softens his voice. “That isn’t my story to tell. But know this—John Denver is your father, and the paternity will prove so. You are his spitting image, and if he had known about you, he would have kept you despite what led to you being born.”
It isn’t hard to see she doesn’t grasp the full meaning behind his words. She doesn’t need to. If he can help it, my father will never allow her to know the truth of what her mother did to her father.
Peyton parts her lips to speak, but the sudden, sharp rap of a knock on the door cuts her off. Rising from my chair, I make my way across the penthouse. When I reach the door, I pause to glance through the peephole, ensuring our visitors identity. Satisfied, I turn the lock with a soft click and swing the door open, welcoming our guests.
“Thanks for coming out.” I shake John and Elias’s hands as they step inside. They’ve both been briefed on what we discovered and what is needed.
“It’s no problem.” Elias smiles as he strides toward my father who stands from his chair to greet them. “I’m always happy to help.”
“And you know we’ll pay you well,” my father jokes as he shakes Elias’s hand and leads him over to a small table where he can set up everything he needs.
John is slower to approach, but I can see from the way his shoulders stiffen as he catches sight of Peyton for the first time how much she looks like him. He sees what my father does. This girl is his daughter.
It is hard to miss. They both have the same dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. His skin is slighter darker due toworking in the sun most days, but hers holds the same golden hue and curved jawline.
“Hello, Peyton,” he greets as he approaches her. “My name is John.”
Peyton’s gaze flickers to my father, who gives her a small nod of encouragement. Taking a deep breath, she gracefully rises from her chair to introduce herself.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she whispers, holding out her hand for him to shake. When he doesn’t take it, she awkwardly lowers it back to her side, sadness at his rejection shadowing her eyes. Jesus, the least he can do is shake it. John occupies the empty chair on my father’s right, leaving Peyton standing stiffly on her own. He takes a moment to study her while she gathers herself and retakes her own seat.
John Denver may be my father’s best friend, but sometimes he can be a douche.
“Here is what is going to happen, Peyton,” John begins, his tone harsh and unforgiving. I’ve heard him use this voice before. It’s the same one my father uses when he is giving an ultimatum to someone who has crossed us. I don’t like how he is using it with his own fucking daughter. An innocent in all this. “Once we’ve verified the paternity, you will come stay with me in Texas.”
Defiance flashes like dynamite in Peyton’s eyes. So, she does have some fire to her.
“And what if I don’t want to stay with you?”
John sneers, his gaze darkening at her words. “You have no job. You have no home. Your mother left you with more than a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of debt you cosigned and therefore become responsible for.” He leans forward in his chair, eyeing her like a lion does his prey. “Feel free to keep living in a homeless shelter, because it is the only place you’re going to be able to afford when the IRS and loans come due.”
Peyton’s lower jaw trembles at his cruel but truthful words. Sadie Masterson left her daughter with a shitload of debt and from the look on Peyton’s face, I’m wondering how much of it she knew about.
“You will live in my house and get a proper education,” John continues coldly. “Sadie may have been a traitorous bitch, butifyou are my daughter, the past doesn’t matter and you will be taken care of.”
“John,” my father warns his best friend. Taking the hint, John leans back in his chair and motions for Elias.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Peyton opens her mouth obediently when Elias goes to swab her cheek. In less than twenty-four hours we will know the truth of her parentage. When Elias finishes, Peyton quietly excuses herself from the room, claiming a headache.
Nodding, my father lets her go.
And here I thought my summer was going to be dull. It looks like that is about to change.
2
A light drizzlefalls from the gray sky, mixing with the few stray tears I let fall on my cheeks as I stand at the edge of the small cemetery. The Reverend’s voice is low and steady as he recites the final rites over my mother’s polished casket. The weight of her absence presses against me every passing second.
A gust of wind sweeps across the small site, cutting through the worn-down jacket, chilling me to the core.
The ancient graves here stretch back through the generations, each one a resting place for those ties by blood and history to the nearby Black Diamond Ranch. My mother didn’t talk about much when it came to where she grew up, but she did talk about longing to be buried here, among her ancestors and the sprawling land that cradled her childhood adventures. Yet, even in death, her parents were intent on denying her this peace. Their sudden change of heart remains a mystery to me, but I am thankful for their eventual consent.
