“Take your time, baby girl.”
“There were a few others over the years—Ballistic, Ridge, Grinder, Glacier, Flash, and...” Grace closed her eyes and reached up, placing her hand over King’s on her shoulder.
“And who, baby?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Freeway.”
King stepped back, removing his hands from my daughter’s shoulders. He walked across the room and slammed his fist into the wall. “Motherfucking son of a bitch.”
“What?” I asked, wondering why that last name made such a difference.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” King asked, as a tear slipped down Grace’s cheek.
“I was scared,” she answered.
“Who the fuck is Freeway?”
“Steele sent Freeway up here when he got out of prison a year ago,” King said between gritted teeth. “Said he was a liability, but he was a fucking spy.”
“Where is he?”
“Gone. He disappeared during the attack last summer.”
“How long was he in prison?” I asked, pulling my hand back. I knew I had to tell them why but wanted to stall as long as I could.
“Thirteen years,”
“He’s not the father,” I mumbled without thinking as my eyes closed.
“What?” Grace asked.
“She told me about the baby, Grace.”
Grace’s eyes filled with tears, and King moved immediately to her side, his hand on her shoulder. She took a shaky breath. “What baby?” he asked.
“I was... I think I was sixteen. Maybe seventeen. I came home late one night and found her crying in the kitchen.” Grace’s voice was barely above a whisper. “She was just... broken. I’d never seen her like that before. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me she was pregnant.”
“She say anything else?” I pressed, leaning forward. “About who the father was? About what happened?”
Grace shook her head. “No. She didn’t talk about the baby much. The pregnancy was hard on her though.” Grace rubbed a hand over her stomach, and I took a deep breath. I knew bringing this shit up would affect her deeply.
“She wouldn’t get an abortion, but she didn’t seem happy either. For months she wouldn’t talk about it. Wouldn’t make plans. I bought something for the baby. A onesie with a pair of handlebars on it.” Her breath stuttered. “She was so mad. Then I had a trip for school. I was gone for a few days. When I came home, she said she’d lost the baby. That he was stillborn.” A tear slid down her cheek. “She made me promise not to tell anyone. Said it was too painful to talk about.” My daughter looked up at me, and I knew what I was about to say would shatter her perception of her mother. “I kept that promise. Even after she died, I never told anyone. Not even King.”
King’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Just kept his hand on Grace’s shoulder, grounding her.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Grace, I’m sorry. If there was any way I could spare you this, I would.”
“Spare me from what?” Grace’s voice cracked.
“Christina lied about the baby.” I opened the journal to the page I’d marked, the one where Christina confessed the truth. “The baby didn’t die, Grace. He was born alive and healthy.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Grace stared at me like I’d just told her the sky was green. “What?”
“Your mother gave him away,” I said, the words tasting like ash. “She contacted Caroline to take him. To give him to someone who could raise him.”
“Caroline?” Grace’s face twisted in confusion. “Who the fuck is Caroline?”
