“Brock is what?”
“Your father,” he said calmly.
“The cannibal? Grimm’s––that would make––”
“I’m your half-brother,” Grimm cut in.
What the entire fuck?
This wasn’t what I was expecting. I was expecting Romero to admit David was his father; the evidence of that was astounding. David hugged him, and David had only ever hugged his sons. He didn’t let any man that close to him without making a power play. That’s why the hug had always bothered me so much.
He came from The Order. He and Grimm weren’t blood brothers, and Brock clearly was Grimm’s father, making the signs point back to David.
One of the most obvious red flags was the fact that he was able to leave the Order at all, and only David would have allowed that. If it were anyone else ,they’d be dead, but Romero was his son, and David’s sons were like gold to him.
He and Brock weren’t close. Jonah told him his father was proud of him—referring to David—and that’s what really honed it in for me.
Romero owned the Badlands. He was strong and lethal. He was everything David would be pissing himself in joy over, because he washisson.
My brain was ready to implode. Romero did a lot of morally questionable things, but I knew he’d never touch me if I was his sister. I didn’t ever consider the possibility of my real father being a goddamn cannibal. Or that the man I thought was my father might have no relation to me at all, depending on who my mother was.
“This is…this is…”
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. Why don’t you and Arlen ride with Grimm? We need to go, and I know you want space.”
Glancing up at him, I wasn’t sure what to say.
We all began branching off, leaving the burning church behind us.
Romero remained silent as he walked me to the passenger seat of the second jeep.
“I love you. Just thought you should know,” I said softly. I didn’t need a special moment or shining stars, and I was likely to kick his ass if he tried to give me a candlelit dinner, so what better time than the here and now?
What better time than when I needed him to know I was still all in? It would always be him in the end, even if the foundation beneath our feet caved in and the walls came tumbling down around us.
“I know you do, baby.” He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips to my forehead. “This shit won’t always be easy. Love…is just a word to me, but you taught me how to define the feeling. It’s how I feel inside, and how fucking insane you make me. I want to kill you half the motherfucking time, but the need to keep you is overwhelming.
“You’re the queen to my king. I’ll worship the ground you walk on as long as you always walk beside me.”
“I’ll always be beside you. I don’t need perfection, Rome. I just need you and all your insanity.”
He cupped my face in my hands, kissing me hard before stepping back again to open my door. I climbed inside and watched him walk away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
We drove for hours.
The first two, it was awkward as hell.
Three was unbearable, and I had to say something.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tossed out honestly.
That apparently was the right thing to say; Grimm seemed to relax visibly. I studied him from my peripheral. We looked nothing alike. His skin was tan and covered in tattoos. His hair was dark brown with naturally lighter strands on top.
He kept it brushed back or trimmed short. Same with his beard; it was either full or freshly shaven. His eyes were dark, too.
Everything about Grimm had an edge of darkness about it, just like the man himself. He was quiet and hard to read. I could easily see how he and Romero had ended up so close.
