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Brian’s mom is Hannah Wren. My dad’s high school sweetheart.
Colt’s mom is Mia Vitale, part of a prominent Italian-American family in Mistpoint.
My mom is Bethany Reed. “Wait—my mom was Colt’s nanny.” I feel sick, already knowing about her from the bits of information I’d been told. “She was twenty-three.” I always thought my dad was heartbroken after Mia died and found some comfort in Bethany, even though she’d been much younger than him.
The truth is that she slept with Brian? A fifteen-year-old boy? Through my confusion I feel disgust—knowing my mom was an adult when Brian was just a teenager. How could she do that?
“Twenty-three,” I murmur again, trying to make it make sense.
“I know,” Brian nods a few times. “Dad was never with Bethany. I thought I loved her—turns out, I didn’t know what the fuck that really meant. But I didn’t want her to get in trouble for sneaking around with me, and Dad and I came up with a solution. He’d pretend to be your father, and I’d be your big brother. Of course she was happy about that.”
Brian.
His voice is hoarse as he says, “And then she died. In childbirth—just like my mom and Colt’s mom—and nothing made sense. I was scared. She had reassured me that she’d know what to do. She’d take care of everything, and now I was left with a baby. Dad saw me…and he just said, ‘Son, it’s okay. I’ll take her from here.’ And I let him raise you until I felt like I could do more than be a burden.” Brian shifts, his gaze boring into me as he croaks, “I know you didn’t know it, but I always loved you like a daughter. And I got my shit together by the time you were four. I tried my fucking hardest to be there for you.”
“You wanted me to stay in Mistpoint Harbor,” I realize, tears touching the creases of my eyes. I’m still in a daze.
He nods slowly again. “I always wanted to tell you the truth, Zoey. There were so many days where I thought, say it now. But Dad and I agreed that we wouldn’t tell you until you were eighteen.”
“I don’t understand why.”
His chest collapses. “Because it was supposed to be your curse!” He’s pained. “Zoey Durand. Didn’t discover her true father until her eighteenth birthday. And I begged you—I pleaded with you to stay in Mistpoint so I could tell you.” He can’t restrain tears. “And then you left, and I thought, what’s the point anyway? You’re gone for good. I’ll never see you again. You cut us out because it was easier, and I get that. At that point, I wanted you gone so I could erase the most painful part of my life. The daughter I loved and the daughter I fucking lost.”
I pinch my watery eyes. “And then I came back.”
“And then you came back,” he repeats. “I didn’t think you’d be here for a week, let alone a month. So I wasn’t going to tell you shit. I wanted you out so I wouldn’t have to go through the hell of losing you twice, and then I started thinking today, maybe she will stay. For your girlfriend. Maybe you’ll stick around. Maybe I’ll get to tell you the truth. Maybe you’ll have a curse that won’t put you in a grave or terrorize you in the night. Maybe, just maybe, this will all work itself out.” He nods to himself, face caught between something dismayed and something furious. “But it’s too late.”
“What do you mean?” My voice sounds unfamiliar. Raspy, panicked and pained. “You just told me the truth.”
“You’re already cursed, Zoey.”
“No, I’m not,” I refute.
He points at the door with the baseball bat. “You unknowingly dragged a stalker or rageful ex-boyfriend back to Mistpoint with you—that is your fucking curse.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I look around at Parry, Colt, Babette, October—none of them seem ready to debate Brian on the status of my curse. And I guess if I were in their shoes peering in, I’d be quicker to see what’s right in front of me.
And Brian is right. If I had stayed in Mistpoint Harbor, I would’ve never been in Chicago. I would’ve never met Ashton.
I could’ve had a different curse. The one Brian wanted for me.
Shit, I could’ve known he was my dad six years ago.
Brian Durand is my father. Processing this will take some time. A part of me feels duped, but the bigger part understands Brian. Because he always let me know who he is, and he’s faced so much tragedy in his life—I just had no idea I was a part of it.
“You might need to file a restraining order,” Parry tells me.
“Might?” Colt lets out a dry laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, I will.” I want to protect myself any way I can, especially when I return to Chicago.
