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Still pressed to the wall, I growled my assent as I nodded.
“Do you have another brother?” he asked.
I was thrown by the question until I assumed he was testing me. “Jeremy—King.”
“What about Grant King?”
What he asked, left me speechless.
My cousin wanted to give the King’s of New York the benefit of the doubt. He suggested that Royce King’s sons may not have known about their uncle and him.
Deep in thought, Connor shook me out of it when I hadn’t answered his question. “Are you sure you don’t have a brother named Grant King?”
I was about to respond when a heavily accented Scottish voice barreled out, “What’s going on?”
A beautiful, heavily pregnant blonde followed the man I suspected to be my other brother, Jeremy King.
“I think Royce has some explaining to do,” Connor said to them.
“Why don’t we take this to the parlor before his face becomes our new wallpaper,” the blonde suggested.
I might have laughed at her deadpan delivery, but Connor’s hand tightened on my head.
“Maybe it’s time to redecorate,” Connor said.
The blonde had some kind of hold on Connor because she laid a hand on his forearm and said, “Maybe it’s time to tell Mr. Black to take a walk,” with a look that only he could interpret. I had no idea who Mr. Black was but assumed it was a private joke between them.
I was yanked away from the wall. Taken off guard, I stumbled as I was perp walked toward the back of the house and shoved into a room to the right as Jeremy spoke in such a heavy Scottish accent, I had no idea what he said.
Gaining my dignity, I managed not to fall onto the couch and turned to face the crowd of people in the doorway eying me like I was the main attraction. Maybe I was.
A gorgeous redhead stepped forward. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
By the murderous look on Jeremy’s face, she was his. “Lass,” he said.
The blonde held up a hand. “Let Bails get him something. Not like she should be here to see what comes next.”
Well, that meant I only had one potential ally.
“A bottle of water,” Jeremy conceded.
Connor held up a hand. “No, a glass will do just fine.”
He must have thought I was stupid. “If you want my fingerprints and DNA, I’ll gladly give them up to prove I ain’t lying.”
“And what makes you think you’re our brother?” Connor asked.
“My mother. And don’t say something stupid. My mom isn’t a whore. Your dad is just a lying sack of shit.”
“Aye, that we can agree about the old man,” Jeremy said.
“Why don’t you start by telling me what your relation is to Grant King?”
I chuckled a little. “Grant thought that maybe you all didn’t know about him. But the fact that you’re saying his name means you did. I guess when his dad gave up the family fortune to his brother, you all wrote him off.”
In the moment, I felt self-righteous until the brothers exchanged looks like I’d spoken gibberish.
“I know Grant because he flew me and my wife several months back. I didn’t use my legal name for the reservation for reasons that aren’t important now. I wrote off our common last name as this is the first time I’ve heard that we have an uncle, a cousin and potentially a brother. And you look like him,” Connor answered.
“What do we have here?” The voice was old yet strong.
Connor, Jeremy and the blonde, whose name hadn’t yet been revealed, filed into the room as a man in a wheelchair rolled in.
Royce King—my father.
I almost moved forward and held out my hand in the way my mother taught me manners. Instead, I stiffened my spine and said, “I’m Liam, your son.”
There were only a few seconds of silent tension until the old man’s cackles filled the room. “I could have guessed who you were. But you have your facts wrong. I’m not your father.”
As rage filled my very soul, I balled my fist- this time ready to pummel the man that had given me life. “Yet, you recognize me.”
“Only because my dear brother sent me a,” he waved his hand around. “What do you call it?” He snapped his fingers. “A come-to-Jesus letter along with your picture asking me to do the right thing a few years back.”
“Brother,” Connor said to Royce as I was no longer the center of attention.
“Yer a pie,” Jeremy said.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that except the disgusted look he gave Royce said it all.
“What? None of you asked,” Royce said.
“Ya reprobate,” Jeremy said.
“You—Jeremy.” He pointed at him.
“It’s Kalen.”
That caught me off guard, especially the murderous look he gave Royce.
“I named you, Jeremy. Your mother stole you away and started calling you that ridiculous name. Besides, it’s not like we’ve talked. You’ve only been here a few years and you don’t hide your disgust. And you—” he aimed his finger at Connor. “You were off at boarding school. Teddy had walked away from this family by then. Not the other way around. Therefore, it wasn’t important for you to know about him.”
