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“Nolan, what the fuck is it?” I bellow, wedging the gun into his forehead.
He breathes in.
I breathe in.
James breathes in.
“He’s my dad.”
My gun drops like lead, my body moving back. “What?” I stare at the kid, flummoxed, not sure I’ve heard him right, as he shifts in the chair, looking small and uncomfortable, refusing to look either of us in the eye.
James moves in, crouching before Nolan. “Did you just?—”
“Brad’s my dad.” He looks defeated. “He’s my fucking dad.”
James grabs his face and forces him to give us his eyes, and the moment I see the pain in them, I know he’s not bullshitting us.
Fucking hell.
“Bean knew my mom. Took care of her, if you know what I mean. He said he’d have you all killed if I didn’t give him something to lock you up. He said he has endless shit on me to get me locked up too. And he said Brad wouldn’t accept me. He’ll make sure of it. That he’ll probably shoot me. I don’t want him to know . . . about me,” he whispers. “I don’t want this to change things.” Now, his lips trembles, and God damn my black heart, it cracks slightly. “I don’t want him to reject me.”
I stare, stunned, eventually turning my eyes onto James. He’s displaying a similar shade of shock.
Fuck. Me.
21
BRAD
* * *
The girls protested when I insisted that I was leaving Hiatus on my own. Except Pearl. She couldn’t even look at me, just stared at the bar while Beau rubbed at her back and glowered at me. She might recant that attitude when she finds out what happened. If she finds out. I saved her. Took a bullet. I’ve unintentionally fueled Pearl’s misconception of me.
I’m no fucking hero.
I sit outside the house for an age, hands on the wheel, staring at the windshield, my phone ringing off the hook. I feel lost. Hopeless. The men and I are back in a time when we all need to be functioning on a full tank of energy and alertness, no distractions. We’re vulnerable. Danny’s vulnerable. James is vulnerable. Now I feel vulnerable too. And we’re making everyone else vulnerable.
I slide out of my car, feeling so fucking heavy—heavy with guilt, heavy with tiredness. Heavy. I pull my phone out as I walk up the steps. Ten missed calls from Allison. A text from Danny asking if I’m home. Nothing from Pearl.
She told me she didn’t know the creep in the alley. I haven’t a clue what to fucking believe but, unbelievably, it took Pearl to remind me that she was a virgin, therefore an ex seems unlikely. Why didn’t I think of that before? That’s the state of my mind right now. The fact that she was a virgin escaped me as I put bullet after bullet in that sleazebag. Sending his ID to Otto confirmed it. He was a nobody. An opportunist. Not connected to anyone I should be worried about. So, again, who the fuck is looking for her?
I text Danny back and ignore Allison, opening the door. Esther is coming down the stairs, Maggie in her arms. She stops and looks me up and down. “What’s happened?” she asks sharply.
“We’re fine,” I assure her. “Everyone’s fine.” I’m far from fine. “They’re on their way back.”
I see her deflate, her feet picking up and meeting me at the bottom. “Tea?”
I smile mildly. Esther’s tea fixes everything, apparently. If only. “I need something a little stronger.” I look down at Maggie in her arms. She’s wide awake, her face rounder than when she was born. She’s found her voice, kicking her legs, flailing her arms. I reach for her chin and tap it with the tip of my finger, looking at her properly for the first time. Oblivious. Beautiful. Innocent. “She’s—” I retract my hand. “Did she just smile?”
“Yes, she’s full of them tonight.” Esther lifts her and nuzzles her face in her neck. “She needs a bottle.”
“Ah, here’s the wounded soldier.” Doc appears at the top of the stairs in his PJs with his bag. “Let’s have a look at you, then.”
“In my room,” I say. I don’t want everyone fussing over me when they get home. “I’ll meet you there. I need a drink.”
“As you wish.”
Doc reverses his steps as Daniel emerges in his pajama pants, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing up?” I call up to him.
