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“Welcome.” Jared’s voice met my ears, and I looked up to his face. Was this his house? What the hell were we doing here? Was this our new hideout?
Instead of saying something bitchy, I simply kept my mouth shut as I walked passed him and into what I assumed was his house. It smelled like a man and looked, well… like a bachelor pad. The walls were painted a deep gray. He had leather couches and a huge flat screen with various electronics in front of it. As I rounded the corner coming to stand in the living room, I took in the kitchen. It was simple but sleek. All black appliances lined the far wall, and it was then I started to wonder what made Jared and Zerro so different?
“I think you should sit down, Bree,” Zerro said behind me, his hand landing on my shoulder heavily. I looked down at it before bringing my gaze to meet his. His hand had brought me immense pleasure, but with it had come pain. Dark, stab yourself in the heart, pain. Such deep and angry pain, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to come back from it. I had saved myself from the hole, not with an ounce of help from this man—he had killed my father and yet, he still felt he had the right to protect me? To tell me what to do. He had lost those rights a long time ago.
“I think you should remove your hand from my shoulder,” I growled, taking a step back so his hand slipped from my shirt. In his eyes, a fiery rage stirred like a volcano ready to blow.
“Bree…” I turned my attention to Jared, who had concern etched into his features. His dark hair was a mess, and his eyes looked haunted as if he had been worrying over something. I knew something was going on. I guess there wasn’t any better time to tell me than now.
“Tell me. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on,” I demanded. Gone was the broken woman I was minutes before.
Both Zerro and Jared looked at each other, worried expressions matched one another’s.
“I think we should—” Jared tried to say, but I interrupted.
“I think you should tell me.” My eyes narrowed at the two of them. Keeping secrets in the situation we were in wasn’t good for any of us.
Zerro’s large hand curled into his hair as he went around the couch to sit down.
Taking a deep breath, Jared exhaled. “John isn’t your father.”
The words hit me like a brick wall, and suddenly, my mind was spiraling out of control. He was lying?
“You’re right because he’s nothing but a dead body on my childhood home’s wood floor.”
Jared cringed at the words I had expelled from my mouth.
“No, I mean John never was your father.” There was no real emotion behind what he said, and I took a hesitating step back. These people were trying to control me. They were making up lies. Zerro just didn’t want me to tell someone.
“You’re lying,” I cried out, not wanting to hear anything else he had to say.
Jared shook his head, dark locks falling onto his forehead. “My father is your father. We’re half-siblings. When I was digging for some info—”
“Stop,” I cried out as I backed up further until I was against a wall.
“I had to help Zerro find you. I went to my father and asked if he could help. I knew nothing, Bree. I swear—”
“Just stop. Make it stop,” I screamed, my throat aching. I couldn’t handle this. My fingers gripped at my scalp to bring something else to life. To make me feel something other than the pain of betrayal and death.
“Bree, we’re half siblings. John lied. He wasn’t your father.”
“I don’t fucking care… I don’t care…” I repeated over and over again as I slumped to the floor.
“Let me take care of her and get her cleaned up. Then you can talk to her,” I heard Zerro say to Jared. I was over everything. I wanted to turn it all off. I wanted to hate and for the anger and sadness to go away. I wanted to turn it off. Having no heart meant there was no chance it could be broken.
Jared nodded dismissing Zerro. Looking up at him with tears, I could see the resemblance. Our noses were the same, our eyes held the same warm brown, and his lips were shaped the same as mine. Even though the proof was right in front of me, and there was absolutely no way to deny it, I still would. I couldn’t believe it. Not now, not ever. Zerro bent down and scooped me up in his arms. I didn’t want to be held or touched by the man who has caused me so much heartache, but I didn’t think I could manage to walk—hell, even stand.
He carried me down the hall to the right and then into a bedroom. Sitting me on the bed, he turned around and closed the door. The silence ate away at everything that made us who we were.
Pulling at my shoes, pants, and shirt, I ripped them off. I didn’t want to be covered in dirt. I didn’t want to be reminded of this day ever again. I could feel the tears coming again, but refused to allow them to escape.
Once in my bra and panties, I crossed the room to what I assumed was the bathroom.
“You can’t run from this.” He sounded as if he had a fire in his voice. Was he angry? He had no reason to be angry.
“I can and will do whatever the fuck I want, Mr. King. You lost the right to say or do anything to me the moment you betrayed me.” Once in the bathroom I slammed the door and locked it. I didn’t want to see his face. I wanted nothing to do with him. My heart ached with every beat as if it were going to burst from an overflow of heartache.
