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“Everything okay?”
“Hmm… I don’t know. Emo wants to see me.”
“Sounds serious,” she remarks, pressing a kiss to my shoulder blade.
“Yeah.”
I twist, forcing her to lean back, grab her waist, and haul her into my lap. She sits sideways across my thighs and her arms slide loosely around my neck. Her smile is sleepy and entirely way too pretty.
“Hi.”
When I lean down for a kiss, she shakes her head, scrunches her nose, and covers her mouth. I cock a brow at her.
“I need to brush my teeth,” she mumbles behind her hand.
Chuckling, I grab her wrist and yank it down. “Give me that mouth woman. I don’t care about fuckin’ morning breath.”
Before she can protest further, I swoop down and give her a kiss that makes us both delirious with need. She’s panting by the time I pull away, and it’s apparent morning breath is no longer on her mind. Even my own breathing is labored.
“Legs around my waist, Gypsy. We’re killing two birds since I don’t have much time; a shower and sex.”
Once she’s situated with her legs tightly gripping my waist, I get us both up from the bed and haul her to the bathroom, where I eat her pussy, then fuck her against the shower wall.
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, because you just can’t rush shower sex, Eden and I are walking through Emo’s front door. Grace is in the kitchen. With a wave to Grace and a kiss to Eden, I leave the women and go to Emo’s office. He’s at his desk, reading over something on the monitor in front of him. He looks like shit, but I’m glad to see it’s not as bad as the last time I saw him.
“What’s going on?”
He gestures to the computer with his chin. “Come take a look.”
I walk over and stop behind his chair. At first, I don’t know what I’m looking at. It’s just a bunch of jumbled medical terms. When I notice the name at the top of the screen though, I take a closer look. It’s a medical record. On my father.
I read over the record. Then read over it again. My gaze slides to the doctor’s name and address. It’s a doctor’s office in San Antonio. When I glance at the date, it confuses me.
“Where did you get this?” I ask Emo, reading the record for a third time. “This can’t be right.”
“There was a floppy disk shoved in between a couple of the tapes. It’s all legit.” He closes the record and pulls up another one. The name on this one is someone I’ve never heard of before. “The clinic and the doctor are real. And the signature is spot on.” He points to the signature at the bottom on the screen. He’s right, it matches perfectly with the one on my father’s record.
“But it says my father had a testicular rupture due to an injury. One that couldn’t be repaired through surgery. It made him infertile.”
“Yes.”
I grit my teeth impatiently. “Emo, this has to be a fake. The date on that is eleven months before I was born. I’m here, so apparently, my father could have children.”
“Unless your father isn’t really your father,” he states quietly.
I’ve already thought of that, but it was so crazy the thought left my mind the moment it entered. I mean, yes, my parents were some twisted individuals because of their roles in Hell Night, but they appeared to genuinely love each other. Always affectionate, always declaring their love. They had stars in their eyes when they looked at each other, for fuck’s sake. I can’t imagine my mother ever cheating on my father. I also can’t imagine my father being okay with her cheating and raising another man’s child.
“It was obviously something they didn’t want people to know,” Emo continues. “That’s why he saw a doctor outside of Sweet Haven.”
“But why? And more importantly, who in the hell is my father?”
“I don’t know, but I figured this was something you needed to know.”
I drag my hands through my hair, frustrated with this new development. It doesn’t really matter who my father was. Ninety-five percent of Sweet Haven’s adult population participated in Hell Night, so the chances of one of the other sick fucks being my father is pretty high. I just want to know who it is so I can make sure he’s dead.
“See what you can find out and get back with me.” He nods and turns back to the screen. “How’re the tapes going?”
His hands freeze on the keyboard, and I see the muscle in his jaw twitch. “I’m almost done.” He types something then swivels in his chair to face me. “Do you remember Jenny’s parents?”
