“Your mother named you after Rhett Butler fromGone with the Wind. It was one of her favorite movies.”
“So, why isn’t it my name?” I mean, I’m not unhappy it isn’t. I definitely dodged a bullet there. I can only imagine the slagging I’d have gotten in school if I was Rhett O’Donoghue. But I know my parents, and they wouldn’t have changed my name.
“You didn’t deserve to keep it,” he snaps. “She died and the name died along with it.”
“Felicia Maria Lancaster,” I whisper, speaking my bio mother’s name for the first time. If this prick is telling the truth, that is. All of this could be a lie, though I’m struggling to understand why any Yank would show up out of the blue and spout lies when there is nothing to gain from it. I’m too old to be kidnapped and trafficked. I don’t have anything of value to be stolen, and this guy isn’t short of money. Unless he’s a complete psycho, I doubt he’s crossed the ocean to murder me. He has some of the details of my adoption, and the resemblance between us is too strong to ignore.
No, unfortunately, this is legit. He is the man who helped to give me life, and he’s a complete dick.
“My wife.” I hear the pain in his tone and lift my head, watching his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Your mother.” His eyes narrow into pointed daggers. “You murdered her when you were born.”
I stumble back, and the piece of paper escapes my fingers. “What?” Ma told me my mother died in childbirth, but to say Imurderedher? It’s not like I haven’t thought of how she’d be alive if I hadn’t been born, but I’ve never thought of it like that. Murder suggests intent and how could a baby intentionally kill anyone? “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t… You can’t say that to me.” Hurt mixes with anger as he bends down and retrieves the errant certificate.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you the truth hurts, boy?” He shoves the paper at my chest, and I immediately push him away and step back. “Phrase it however you want, but it doesn’t alter the facts. The love of my life died giving birth to you. She only lived long enough to give you a name. You took Felicia from me, and I’ll never forgive you. You’re lucky I gave you up for adoption because I’d most likely have killed you had I taken you home. Icouldn’t bear to look at you then. Like I can’t bear to look at you now.”
He glares at me with so much hatred burning in his eyes it’s not hard to see how much he truly loathes me. Pain spreads across my chest making breathing difficult.
“You ruined my life, and I won’t let you ruin Reeve’s.”
“Reeve?” My brows knit together.
“Your brother.” My eyes pop wide as I stare at him. “Reeve is your twin brother. Felicia was a bigSupermanfan, and she named Reeve after the actor Christopher Reeve. Looking at you is like looking at him.” He thrusts his phone in front of my face, showing me a picture of himself with a guy who looks scarily like me. They are both wearing suits and fake smiles. Reeve’s hair is a bit lighter in parts, and he’s got a mole over his lip, and his nose doesn’t look like it was ever broken fighting, but other than that he looks identical to me. A shiver works its way through me, and I’m drowning in a pool of confusing feelings. “Get in the car, Dillon, and I’ll explain.”
My legs are like jelly as I walk in a daze to the car. A guy jumps out from behind the wheel and opens the back door for Simon.
Simon slides in, looking up at me with a scowl. “Get in the other side.”
I move as if on autopilot, almost taking a tumble when I step off the curb. I have a brother? I’m a twin? I open the door and flop onto the back seat, beside the wanker, in total shock.
“Reeve is an actor, and he’s going to be a big star. He doesn’t need any skeletons in the closet causing issues for him. The last thing he needs is his long-lost twin resurfacing.”
“He lives with you?”
He nods.
“Does he know about me?” I ask. My voice doesn’t even sound like my own.
“I told him when he was twelve.” Simon flicks a piece of lint off his trousers. “I offered to reunite him with you, but he said no. He didn’t want you either.” His cruel eyes bore into mine. “We are just fine without you.”
“So why are you there then?” I bark, fighting the urge to curl into a ball and rock. Even my twin didn’t want me? How am I so bad? Unless they’ve been watching me and all the fighting and trouble I get into seemingly validates their opinion.
“To make sure you don’t mess things up for my son.”
I’m not quick enough to hide the hurt from my face even though it’s all kinds of fucked up because I’m not his son in any of the ways that count. But I’m barely holding it together, and I can’t shield everything from him. Knowing he kept my twin but rejected me hurts. “Reeve asked me to come talk to you. You can’t come forward, Dillon. No one can know you exist. You are never to contact Reeve. You need to slink into the shadows and stay there. Pretend like you’re invisible, if you will.”
“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth. “I hate both of you.”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, pulling a stapled document out of a large envelope. “This is an NDA. Nondisclosure agreement,” he adds. “Sign this, agreeing to never approach Reeve and never to talk about him or me to anyone, ever, and I’ll give you half a million dollars.”
“Hush money.” I clench my hands into fists.
“Protection for my son.” He shrugs again, and I’m so tempted to smash my fist in his face and fuck up the illusion he presents to the world. He might look rich and polished, successful and confident, but behind that veneer, he’s the devil.
“I’m guessing Reeve was born first.” It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
“Felicia held him in her arms. She was so happy until the midwife said there was another baby, and then everything turned to shit.”
“Only a sick fuck would blame innocent babies for something uncontrollable.”
