I heard Zena’s shocked gasp before his words began to slowly register. “What are you saying, Lorenzo?” I didn’t recognize my voice, it was so tight from the ball of emotion wedged in my throat.
“Jardin is your son,” he and Zena said it together, their expressions polar opposites of remorse on Lorenzo’s and disbelief on hers.
“The day after I got here, I had a DNA test done to make sure he was yours,” he said.
I could feel the blood drain from my face. I blanked out, not bothering to ask details of the how and the when. Everything from dread to pain anchored in the pit of my stomach, weighing me down, making my body immobile. I wanted to move, to launch myself at him and shout out that he was talking shit. But my legs failed me, my lungs even more. With effort I didn’t recognize as mine, I clutched my chest, forcing air into my lungs, begging myself to breathe. Then I staggered back a few steps. Lorenzo reached out a hand to touch me and I shoved it away before turning my back on them, wishing for the earth to open up, swallow them hole and spit out the bones. Because their betrayal ran like poison in their marrow.
“Ray—” Zena began.
“Don’t fucking speak,” I growled without turning around.
Grabbing the edge of the desk between my stiff fingers, I took deep, slow breaths, trying to calm the agitated banging in my brain. But the pain was persistent and too fucking severe, devastatingly acute, pounding in my head, my ears, my heart.
When I could muster the strength to put an end to this soap opera drama that just festered out of stupidity, I swung around, glaring at Lorenzo. “All this time you knew? Three fucking years, you knew I had a son and you kept that from me,” I yelled, letting that ache take control of my body’s next movements.
I launched myself at him, my right fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbled back into the wall behind him while Zena screamed for me to stop. I didn’t care. My left fist hurtled into his stomach and he doubled over. He straightened, his face devoid of emotion as though egging me on. And I did. My fists rained a fireball of blows on his hard body, my shouts of hurt, spewing out with each hit, like fuel to the flames of anger. And he did nothing. He just stood there, hands at his side only flinching each time my fist connected, taking it all as though he deserved it. He did.
If that wasn’t enough. Déjà vu smacked me in the face like a brutal taunt. Only, this time I wasn’t a young boy fighting a desire I didn’t understand. This time, it was a young man battling the loss of three years with a son he didn’t know he had.
“How could you, Lorenzo?” Spent, I gripped the front of his shirt, shaking him until I sagged against his body. I didn’t care that I was giving up the fight. I didn’t care that Zena’s voice was hoarse from screaming for me to stop. I didn’t care that his hands came up around me. Holding me tight while I breathed harshly into his chest. As long as I didn’t give into the tears that squeezed every nerve cell making me want to puke, I didn’t care anymore.
“I’m sorry, Rayden. I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered.
“But you did. You all did,” I whispered as months of anguish seeped into my bones, sucking out every emotion I felt for all these people who’d been part of my life. Zena, Sianna, my father and now Lorenzo. When his hands tightened around me, I pushed against his chest and he let me go. I glared at him, taking in the trickle of blood down the side of his lip yet it brought no me satisfaction.
“I’m sorry, Rayden, I had no idea,” Zena’s soft words had me pivoting sharply.
“I don’t need your fucking pity, you started all this shit,” I sneered. “Between you two, I can’t tell who’s more cringeworthy.” I barked out a laugh. “And all this time, I thought I was fucked-up. Go figure.” I shook my head.
Tears streamed down her face, her large eyes pleading. For what? I had no fucking clue and I didn’t care. When I turned my back on her, she hissed in a breath between her sniffles. “Lorenzo,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for everything and I have no right to ask this, but please can you let me go. I’ll disappear and you both will never see me again—”
“What the fuck!” I yelled, turning around to face her. “I just found out Jardin is mine and now you’re asking to take him away—”
“I wasn’t asking that, Rayden,” her soft words cut me off, her gaze roamed my face, looking for what I couldn’t give her. Forgiveness.
“Then what were you asking?”
She looked at Lorenzo and he was just as curious. “I’m asking for you to letmego. I wouldn’t dream of taking Jardin away from you, Rayden. I know you will give him the life he deserves.” Her voice broke on the words.
Some part of me knew I should’ve felt something, but I couldn’t. Maybe I just wasn’t ready right now. Could anyone blame me? Then something clicked. “How did I become a father, Zena? We always used condoms?”
“Would it make a difference?” She pleaded, like revealing any more lies would set her free. I didn’t have to answer, my look said it all. “The week before you left for the trip with your father, we attended Katy’s birthday party. We returned home drunk and had sex that was a little more rough than normal. The condom broke.”
“So, all this time you knew I was Jardin’s father but made Lorenzo believe it was his.” The level of animosity in my blood became toxic fodder for my mouth. “Were you born a lying manipulative bitch or was it fucked into you?”
She sobbed harder but I was beyond feeling anything for this woman. “I truly thought it was his, Rayden and—”
I held up my hand. “What you thought or didn’t doesn’t make you any less of a bitch I never want to see.”
“The chopper will take you back home,” Lorenzo said, his tone clipped, and I guessed he wasn’t feeling charitable toward forgiveness either.
“I really am sorry I hurt you both.” I could hear the regret in her shaky voice.
“While obsession will kill logic when you need it most, revenge is like a drug, Zena, it will either kill you or rule you. Judging by what you’ve done, you straddled the lines of both with little to no chance of redemption.” This time Lorenzo’s words held no menace just exhaustion and I felt the fatigue in my bones too. I wanted this whole shitstorm over.
“I know and I’ll never ask for that.” She sighed then looked at me. “I do, however, wish you both the best and hope the people you love are much more accepting of you than I was, Rayden.” She was gone before I could say anything further.
I looked at Lorenzo, trying hard to ignore the pain in his eyes, the plea for forgiveness. “I need to go.”
