“You heard me.” He took a step toward me. “Dead. As in six feet under. How the fuck are you alive?”
Clutching the shirt front, I pulled in a deep breath. Anxiety I’d buried a long time ago surfaced, gripping my heart in deadly grasp. “I-I don’t—”
“Fuck.”
We both turned as Trent walked in. His face pale, his gaze shifted between me and the other man.
“What are you doing here, Easton? You were supposed to call before coming out.” There was no mistaking the threat in Trent’s tone or the sudden anger masking his usually calm features. “Outside. Now.” He pointed to the door.
“But—” Easton’s words died at the look on Trent’s face. “Fine,” he muttered and walked out, leaving me baffled.
“Are you okay?” Trent asked, nearing my side, his smile hesitant.
“Who...um...what did he mean?” the flustered words rushed out as I struggled to grasp what I heard.
“Can you give me a second? I just need to have a quick chat with him?” I wasn’t sure if he was pleading with me. I nodded. “I’ll be right back. Wait here, okay?”
The second the door shut behind him, I opened it slightly and peeked out. I could hear their voices coming from the dining room. I tiptoed there and put my ear to the door.
“I don’t fucking understand,” Easton grunted.
“Keep your voice down,” a vicious warning tainted Trent’s hard tone, something I never thought I’d hear. My curiosity morphed into anxiety. What was he keeping from me?
“What the fuck, Trent. Your fucking wife is alive.”
What the— I frowned. How?
“It was an accident. She doesn’t know,” Trent muttered.
Who doesn’t know? I wiped my clammy palms down the shirt front. What the hell was happening?
“You...” a pause, “...killed your wife?” Easton sounded shocked.
Trent moved because I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then, “She survived.”
I reared back. Panic eating into the air I needed to breathe. Did Trent kill his wife? Oh, my God. I balled my fists. My phone and purse were upstairs. I was miles from Zayne even if I called him. I was alone. Was I really sleeping with a killer?
“So that woman in your kitchen is...” I couldn’t hear the rest of Easton’s words.
Who was I to Trent? Judging by Easton’s tone, I was someone he knew. I stood back and glared at the door. What was going on? Why were they talking about me and Trent’s wife? Was there a connection? I raked a hand through my hair, tempted to burst through the door and demand—a sudden movement told me they were coming back. Quickly, I tiptoed back to the kitchen and paced for a moment before the door opened and Trent walked in. Nothing in his expression indicated he’d just had an incriminating conversation with the other man. Was I in danger?
“You okay?” He reached for me and I jerked away from his touch. Startled, he dropped his hand.
Swallowing down the sour taste in my mouth, I fought for control. I shivered so badly, I couldn’t even muster my voice. He stared at me for a lifetime before his hands came together and cupped his neck. My trembling grew frenetic in the pregnant silence. I was afraid I’d hurl the contents of my stomach if I didn’t say something.
“Who was that?” I finally managed, glad I sounded relatively normal.
“Don’t worry about him.”
That got my hackles up. “You can’t be serious! Did you not hear what he just asked me? A man I don’t know, that I’ve never met, is asking me why I’m alive and you’re telling me not to worry. What kind of dumb do you take me for, Trent? Who is he?”Wow.Was that me speaking with such conviction, belying the chaos my head had become the second Easton opened his mouth?
Trent stared at me, his complexion pale. Dragging a hand down his face, he paced to a chair and perched on the edge. He leaned over his lap and with his fingers steepled, his leg bounced. His stiff shoulders showing his inner battle.
“Trent?” The single word was calm, contradicting the tempest raging in my lungs, threatening to wipe my very existence with a quick snap of the oxygen I desperately needed.
He stood and faced away for just a fraction of a second then turned with his hands on his hips. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he blew out a frustrated breath. “He’s your brother, half-brother, actually,” he muttered.
Shock massacred my breathing. I gulped air like a fish out of water. “B-brother?” I stared at Trent, waiting for him to elaborate. When he said nothing, I swallowed. “How?”
