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“Do you have a cell phone on you?” I asked. “Can you show me a picture of the senator? I want to know if I look like him.”
She pulled out her phone and pulled up a random picture. “He’s the man on the left.”
It was a picture of him and a young blonde girl on his left. Standing next to him on the right was a tall man with dark brown hair and green eyes and a boy about my age. He had black hair and those same green eyes. I looked at the names.
Harper Avery, Senator Rick Avery, Sebastian Wolfe, Damian Wolfe.
According to the short description, Harper was the senator’s daughter. If his theory proved to be correct, she would be my sister. It was strange to think I might have a sibling out there, but I tried not to get my hopes up.
Looking at him, I didn’t see much of a resemblance, though there was a hint of one there. We had the same black hair, but his eyes were a much deeper blue than mine. I was darker complected like him, though.
However,shelooked like me. Harper looked a lot more like me than I’d like to admit. She was blonde, petite, very slender. We didn’t have much in common there, since I was dark haired, tall, and thick. But her face—something about her face.
Her individual features looked nothing like mine, yet when I looked at the whole picture, somehow, she looked like me. It was strange.
My eyes wandered over to the two guys standing next to my potential father and sister. It appeared Rick Avery and Sebastian Wolfe were good friends. They stood next to one another so casually, both with large, easy smiles on their faces. The boy next to them, however, seemed quite the opposite.
I assumed Damian was Sebastian’s son. The resemblance was obvious. He stood with his hands in his pockets, putting most of his weight on one leg while the other was casually bent to the side. His posture was very nonchalant, like he didn’t give a damn about much of anything. Even his nose was turned up.
His green eyes seemed to bore into the camera. There was a darkness in them that kind of creeped me out. He was certainly beautiful to look at, but it was like staring into the eyes of a tiger. It was a beautiful beast, but you know not to get too close, or it could kill you.
He looked like a rich prick if I’d ever seen one. Still, one could admire his beauty from afar.
I handed the phone back to Detective Abbott. “I can see why you came to me now,” I said, my voice low as I fiddled with my hands nervously. “What do I need to do?”
She reached into her jacket pocket and removed a sterile swab kit. “The senator has already submitted his DNA. He did so the day he saw you on TV. He was that certain. If you want to pursue this, it’s your decision. You’re eighteen years old, which means you don’t have to answer to any-damn-body.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That being said, you just lost everyone and everything you’ve ever known. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to verify if you actually have family out there.”
I nodded. “Can you ask Melanie to come in here? I’d feel more comfortable if she did this. I don’t want any mistakes.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. You okay?”
“A church exploded with me inside it, then my life exploded. I learned my parents aren’t really my biological parents,andthat I may have been kidnapped as a baby from California from powerful parents and dumped in Nowhereville, Indiana. I’m doinggreat.”
She smiled. “Oh, good. And here I thought you were going to say no.”
I chuckled lightly at her sarcasm, and she patted my leg, gave me a small wink, and left the room to get Melanie.
Time to figure out where I’d go from here and just how fucked up my life was about to get.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAMIAN
This morning was the first for training. We had five weeks before school started, and four weeks before football practices started. The first day was always the hardest, but we all agreed morning was the best time to do it.
Do it.
Get it done.
Go on about our day.
It was no coincidence that the royals of the school were all on the football team. Sports were worshipped in schools, especially places like this. It went a long way to padding those bougie bullshit applications to ivy league schools. Not to mention, it got all our dads off our backs. Trent, Michael, Liam, and Everett were lucky enough to have mediocre or even good parents.
Ash and me? Not so much.
He said his dad was cool before moving out here, but once my dad got a hold of him, he turned into a wicked piece of shit. When poor people went from rock bottom to rich, it went in one of two directions. They were either penny pinchers from hell and still lived like they were poor or close to it, or they were obsessed with status and money and wanted more of both.
Unfortunately for Asher, he was the modest type, and his father was the asshole. That being said, I thought that had a lot more to do with my dad than anything. He was great at getting his hooks into people and getting them to do anything he wanted. He was a manipulative douche, but I learned from the best, I guess, because I could get whatever I wanted, too.
