I didn’t force myself out of the cozy bed until I heard the front door click shut. As soon as I was out of the comfortable embrace of the blankets, goosebumps rose on my skin. Starting the bath would take a minute, and I didn’t want to walk around naked, so I grabbed one of his sweatshirts out of the closet and went to the room I used to stay in to tug on a pair of fleece leggings.
Nearly every night since we took the leap into being more, I’d slept in his room. Looking at the guest bed, it felt weird to think we were apart before. Sleeping next to him felt as normal as breathing.
In the bathroom, I turned the warm water on, periodically checking to make sure it wasn’t getting too hot. I was overly paranoid about baths while carrying this baby, but I loved them too much to give them up.
While watching the water rise, my stomach let out a low rumble. The more pregnant I became, the more hungry I constantly was. It was both nice because I loved food and terrible because I could rarely do anything these days without needing a snack in my pocket.
After another test of the water temperature, I padded down the hallway toward the kitchen to find something easy to eat in the bath.
I rounded the corner, eyes narrowing on my ankles and wondering if they were swelling. That was yet another paranoia of mine. Deciding it was my mind playing tricks on me, I looked up. And came to a dead stop.
There was a man in the kitchen.
And it wasn’t Beckham.
35
PARKER
“Hello, Parker.”
Every cell in my body was frozen, my fight-or-flight instincts nowhere to be found as even my heart seemed to stop beating. Disbelief washed over me as I did nothing but stare at the man before me.
“H-how are you here?”
The only reason I recognized him was because of the vertical knife tattoo on his neck. I’d seen my uncle in a picture before, one my parents hadn’t wanted me to see. I’d been in their closet, sticking my nose where it didn’t belong as I tried to find an extra pair of my mom’s shoes so I could play dress-up. No luck with the shoes—I came to find she only owned one pair—but instead I stumbled upon an old photo album.
My dad burned the album that night.
From what I’d briefly gathered from my cousin Axel about his father, my dad had been right to.
When I met Axel for the first time, he’d explained that I was the first extended family member his daughter had ever met. She never knew who her grandfather was, and he planned to keep it that way.
My uncle took a step, moving out from behind the counter to expose the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He had a build similar to my father, but it was apparent he was vastly younger than his brother. His brown hair flaring out from under a ball cap was layered with gray, but he had few wrinkles on his face, giving the impression that the man likely didn’t smile much.
“It took a lot of trial and error to finally figure it out. But when your life is on social media”—he shrugged—“anyone can find out anything. Plus, we’re family.” His toothy smile was unsettling. “Why wouldn’t you want to meet your uncle?”
“I don’t even know your name.” My hand slowly felt for my pocket, and I silently cursed myself for not grabbing my phone.
“My brother never told you?” He quirked his head to the side, inspecting me.
I shook my head.
“Or my son?”
“How do you know I talked to?—”
“Because I’m not stupid.” His smile fell, replaced with a look of disdain. “All that time traveling the country and you expect me to think you didn’t try to find any family? Your father kept you and your mother away from us.”
“Because you’re dangerous.”
His laugh could’ve rattled the windows. “Dangerous?”
“Axel told me you went to prison for murder.” My voice had quieted, like that might keep me from setting the man off.
“It was for a good cause.” That haughty smile was back, causing my limbs to begin to shake.
I fisted my hands, debating whether it was worth it to try to run to the bedroom to grab my phone and call for help. But he had a gun, and I had nothing to defend myself with, aside from a wooden door—if I made it that far.
