AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The word again cuts through me, a dagger straight to the heart, shock waves of pain rippling through my chest.
“Jules, you’ve never let me down.” I cup her cheek, gazing into her eyes.
Beguiling.
She blinks, her long dark lashes fluttering, but says nothing. She still doesn’t believe me.
“You should call her, King.” She brushes past my declaration, focusing on the task instead. I freeze, chest tight with panic.
“What? No, I couldn’t. What would I say?”
“I’d lead with the truth. That you’re the son of her birth mother and you received her letter. You could meet up with her.”
I huff out a breath. The concept of being forthright in this situation doesn’t sit well with me. I wanted to check her out, get a quick look, and then report back to my siblings. Having an actual conversation with this Lacey woman—my half sister—is too, I don’t know, real.
I close my eyes, pinch the bridge of my nose hard.
“I’ll think about it in the shower. We should pack up, though. Head home today.”
Juliet untangles herself from the white sheets and stands, twining her arms around my neck.
“We can head home. But let’s meet Lacey. I’ll call her if you want.”
I cut my eyes and gaze out the window, at the clear blue sky, the golden rays of sunlight filtering through and streaking the wooden planks.
“I’ll do it.”
Reaching around her, I unplug my cell, then root through my wallet and find the now-well-worn sheet of aqua stationery. Scrawled at the bottom of the note is her phone number. I’m assuming a cell phone, but who knows? I know nothing about this woman and her life.
Damn, this is gonna be awkward.
Juliet stares at me, but I back away toward the bathroom. I love her, but this is a call I need to make in private. Alone.
Shutting the door behind me, I sink down onto the toilet seat and stare at my phone.
What the fuck am I going to say to this woman?
Hey, I’m King, your half brother. Our mom is dead.
Shit. That’s terrible.
I stare at the tiny floral pattern in the wallpaper, delicate pink roses climbing up toward the ceiling. With a deep breath, I dial the number on the paper, praying she doesn’t pick up.
One ring, two rings.
So far, so good.
Three rings.
“Hello?”
Dammit.
“Uh, hey. Um, hi. I’m trying to reach Lacey McCauliffe?”
There’s a half-second pause, then a muffled sound, like the speaker’s being covered.
“Mom! Someone’s on the phone for you!”
