I took the time to lather myself up right. I took the time to wash my hair and clean myself up. I was tired of smelling like lies and blood. I was tired of walking around, clueless as to when I’d be able to go home. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it at the clubhouse. Honestly, it was growing on me. It all was. They all were. But I missed my family. I wanted them to know that I was okay. I wanted to make sure they were all right.
Because for all I knew, they were just as much of a target as I was.
And that revelation was enough to pull me out of the shower.
“Shit,” I hissed, turning off the water.
I barely got the towel wrapped around me before I dashed out of the bathroom, on a mission for clothing as I threw open drawers and flung open closet doors. I scrounged around until I found a t-shirt that was much too big for me and a pair of sweatpants that could have drowned me if I gave it the opportunity, and I stopped to draw in their scents. They smelled like my guys. Sandy and wind-torn with just a hint of leather.
I could have crawled into bed and gone right back to sleep in those clothes.
But instead, I threw the clothes on and booked it for the kitchen. Those papers had to be somewhere, and the last place I had seen them were on the table. My gaze fished around the place, and I made a pot of coffee. I threw open cabinets and pulled open drawers, hoping, and praying I’d come across that manilla envelope. If I wanted to help my family and save myself, I had to figure out why the hell my twin sister hadn’t been adopted. I had to figure out why in the world she was doing all of this. Maybe it had nothing to do with me, but maybe it had everything to do with me.
And the risk to my family was enough for me to consider all sides of the equation.
“Looking for this?”
Dante’s voice popped up behind me and it made me smile. I caught his gaze in the kitchen window and I saw him leaning against the doorframe, looming over the only entrance in and out of the room. I slowly turned toward him, leaning against the countertop as I folded my arms across my chest. And while the coffee percolated in the glass container, he stalked toward me with those hunter green eyes of his, pinning me to my spot.
“Thank you, Dante,” I said, fluttering my eyelashes at him.
He chuckled as he settled it silently onto the countertop to my left. “Morning.”
I smiled up at him. “Morning.”
“Enjoy your evening?”
I blushed beneath his gaze. “Want some coffee?”
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t mind if I do, thanks.”
He tossed me a playful wink before moving toward the coffee pot. His long, languid movements caught my attention as I mindlessly placed my hand on top of that folder. I knew the answer was in there somewhere. The reason for all of her shit was buried within the contents of the words on the papers Dante had pieced together of his own volition. I watched as he poured himself a mug of black coffee. I watched the way those thin lips of his curled around the edge of the cup, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his silent movements.
There wasn’t a damn thing about him that I didn’t find completely intoxicating.
And he knew it.
“Church calls,” he said, turning toward the hallway.
“Will it take long?” I asked after clearing my throat.
“Why?” he asked, making his way to the doorway. “Miss us already?”
I giggled. “Something like that.”
He peered over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t be long.”
Then, he disappeared toward the stairs before floating up them like the fucking ghost he was.
“Wow,” I whispered and quickly dropped my attention back to the document.
The coffee was soon forgotten about while I dove into the medical records of our birth. It didn’t shock me that they had mine, and I rummaged around for anything to write with as I tried to figure out the medical jargon typed and scribbled about. I finally found a green highlighter, of all things, and found myself perched at the countertop next to the piping hot coffee that sat on the hot burner, just waiting to be chugged.
“Come on,” I grumbled as I mindlessly reached up for a mug above my head, “you’ve gotta be in here somewhere.”
But I didn’t even get my first sip of coffee in me before my gaze landed on the one word I had been looking for.
And I sure as fuck didn’t need Google to tell me what it meant.
