Liam’s brows furrow in outrage, but it’s what Declan says that I cling to.
“No. Liam works for me. I don’t have any children.”
Why does hearing that hurt so much? I’m being rejected again by a father I never knew about.
“Except for me.”
Declan shakes his head. “I apologize. That was rude and not at all what I meant. Your mother—”
Fuck, I didn’t even consider her. Was Cecelia McCarthy even my real mother, or was that a complete lie as well?
“She was.”
“What?” I ask, confused, then realize that I said my thoughts out loud. I really need to stop doing that.
“Cecelia was your mother. She and I had a brief affair a long time ago.”
And I was the unwanted result.
“Where is she?”
I want to hear her say it. I want her to tell me to my face that Declan is my real father. That she knew it and kept it from me. That she allowed another man, a man who was her husband, rape her only daughter.
Declan inhales deeply, but his gaze never wavers from mine. “She’s dead.”
Is it bad that I feel nothing when he tells me that? It explains why I haven’t heard from her or seen her in over a year. Then again, she dropped me in Switzerland and left me there.
“What happened to her?”
His violet eyes watch me closely. I know he’s about to confirm my suspicions that Max murdered her. But I was not at all prepared for him to simply state, “I killed her.”
All the oxygen whooshes out of my lungs like bellows. Well, fuck me.
“I think I’ll take that shower now.”
Declan nods at Tessa. “Of course. Tessa will help you.”
She knows not to get near me right now. I’m a hair-trigger away from a berserker rage. I’m also covered in my own vomit, and I stink.
Tessa waits for me to follow her, but it’s hard to get my feet moving. With one last lingering glance at Declan, I walk back into the room I woke up in.
She flicks the lights on and disappears inside a small bathroom. I survey my surroundings. Tessa’s bright pink carry bag is slumped on a chair in the corner, along with her favorite jeans jacket covered in colorful anime patches. A pair of sneakers sits on the floor at the end of the bed. This must be her room, or where she sleeps. For kidnappers, Declan and Liam sure do know how to make their prisoner feel welcome and at home.
I go over to the window and pull back the curtains. It’s too dark outside to see anything. Pitch black with no streetlights or neighboring lights to help me figure out where the hell I am. From the wood walls, I would hazard to guess that we’re in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. My fingers touch the latch for the window, and a flicker of hope swells.
“I put a towel and washcloth out for you, and some clothes,” Tessa says behind me. “I’ll sleep in the other room tonight so you can have this one.”
I turn around and look at the person who I thought was my friend. Things are so messed up and it’s fucking with my train of thought.
She shoves her hands in the backs of her blue jeans. “I know what you must be thinking.”
A humorless laugh escapes. “That’s highly unlikely.”
“Alex, look—” She brushes a hand through her hair, the strands gliding through her fingers with ease.
“When Rafe showed me his phone with the text message I sent to you, I was scared out of my mind. I thought you were in trouble. That he had taken you. Were you even kidnapped? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.”
Her face falls with regret. Coming over to the bed, she sits down and locks her hands together in her lap.
