Page 71 of Doubting Hearts

I was shaking my head, unable to process this information. “If he’s my father, where has he been all these years? And why is he getting in touch now?”

There was silence. “Mr. Prentiss, we can talk about this when we see each other. Are you able to come down—”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me the answers to my questions.” I gripped the receiver tightly. “I’m just not.”

Tammy was looking worried now. She kept mouthing words at me, but I couldn’t see what she was saying. I knew I should be over the moon I was being told I had family, but something deep in my soul just knew it was too good to be true. The sense of foreboding doom was too strong. Celeste remained quiet, and I heard the rustle of papers. I heard her take a deep breath, and I knew she was about to tell me something momentous.

“Your father has been in prison, Mr. Prentiss. And he has cancer— he’s dying and isn’t expected to live much longer. We normally find in these circumstances that people want to right wrongs, make peace. That’s why his solicitor approached us.”

I put the receiver back on the hook gently. I couldn’t face any more news. I thought perhaps if I put it down it might be as if the whole incident had never happened. I sat there, waiting for the world to keep turning and hoping it would go back to where I’d been before, talking to Tammy about mundane catering requirements. I heard the phone ring again, saw Tammy pick it up and talk quietly to whoever was on the other end. I watched as she put the phone down and walked over to me. She wrapped her arms around me from behind, laying her cheek on the top of my head.

“Toby, sweetheart, you need a cup of tea.” Her voice was unsteady. “That lady that called back has given me her telephone number and told me to ask you to call her if you change your mind. I’m going to call Rain and get him to come back here. I think you need him. But first—tea.”

She disappeared out of the office. I was still sitting there when she returned with a steaming cup of tea, the balm for every ill known to an Englishman. She made me sip it while I thought about what I’d just been told.

“She says my father is alive and in prison. She says he’s dying of cancer, Tammy.”

Her face looked shocked, but she tried to keep it brave for me. “She didn’t say what it was all about, just that it involved your dad wanting to see you.”

“He’s not my dad,” I said between gritted teeth. “Don’t call him that. I don’t even know him. And from the sounds of it, I never will. Isn’t that just peachy, being told you have a long-lost father and he’s dying.” I laughed harshly. “The story of my fucking life, Tammy. Giveth then taketh away. Just like Maestro.” She would have no clue who or what Maestro had been to me.

“Toby—” She reached out a hand, and I stood up, my eyes hot with unshed tears.

“I need to be alone right now, Tammy. I’m going to my room.” I dashed out of the office, up the stairs, and into my room. I flung myself down on my bed, buried my face in the pillows, and then the tears came, scalding buckets of pure frustration and grief that seemed to never stop. I was spent, and I lay with sobs racking my body as I fell slowly into the deep, dark pit of sleep. I woke to the touch of someone stroking my hair and soft lips on my tearstained cheek. I opened my eyes blearily, looking into Rain’s loving blue eyes.

He reached out, wiping the sticky bits of hair from my face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

I sat up against the pillows. Rain scooted me over and sat next to me, pulling me into his arms, stroking my hair. I leaned into his strength and his warmth and felt a little more whole.

“Tammy told me what happened,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Toby. I called Celeste back and explained you’d got upset. She understood. She sounds nice enough. I said I’d talk to you and see whether you wanted to go and meet her to find out more. She wouldn’t discuss it with me, obviously.”

“What’s to know? I didn’t have a father because he was in prison, and now he’s dying, I’m not going to have one anyway.” My voice was bitter. “I was definitely a chip off the old block, wasn’t I? The apple didn’t fall far from the fucking tree—”

“Toby, shut the fuck up.” Rain’s voice was firm. “Stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself.”

My mouth dropped open in disbelief, and I struggled to move away from him, anger surging inside. But his strong arms held me like a vise grip.

“Rain, I swear, if you don’t let me go, I’ll punch you,” I threatened. He snorted, tightening his hold. It was like being in a straitjacket. Except I really didn’t want to get out of this one. I felt his heart beating in his chest as he pressed my head to it.

“I’d like to see you try, sport,” he murmured. “Now you listen to me. You don’t even know the circumstances behind why your alleged father is behind bars. And no matter what the reason, you are not like him. I couldn’t care what he did or didn’t do, I know my Toby. And my Toby is a decent, great man who didn’t deserve the shitty life someone dealt him but who still came through to be the man I love. And there’s another thing Toby has that no one else does.”

“What’s that?” I managed to get out through a mouthful of cotton shirt. I knew the answer, of course. I just wanted to hear it from his lips. I didn’t know you could feel a grin through the warmth of a manly chest, but I swear I did.

“Me” was his simple reply. “So, stop all this drama-queen stuff and sit up, kiss me, and then we’ll talk about what you want to do about all this.”

I huffed and sat up, rubbing my eyes. He watched me with amusement, and I already felt better just by having him near me. But despite his gentle teasing, I saw the concern in his eyes.

“I don’t think I want to kiss someone who just told me to shut the fuck up and called me a drama queen,” I muttered moodily. “That was a little rude.”

He ignored me and pulled me closer for a kiss anyway. It was gentle and caring, and I lost myself in it. Then he let me go, licking his lips. “You taste salty,” he murmured.

“Yeah? Well, you taste of chicken. What the hell have you been eating? Ugh.” I licked my lips in distaste, and he chuckled.

“I was feeling peckish earlier, so Lucas bought me a chicken sub.” He grinned. “You’re lucky it wasn’t the one with extra onions.” His face grew serious. “Toby, you don’t have to do anything about this whole thing. You can tell BAAF that you don’t want to meet anyone who says he’s your father.”

I looked at him. “I know I can. But honestly, Rain, a man is dying and wants to see someone who he thinks is his son. What kind of person would I be if I refused—as long as he is my father, of course, and that still remains to be proven.”

Rain’s eyes were tender as he looked at me. “Spoken like a true Toby. Then call her back, tell her you’ll meet her to verify this man is your family. Then we can decide what to do from there.” He hugged me fiercely, and I felt a surge of relief that I wasn’t alone in this.