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“Yes, she did. Every night until it was time for Dad to come. She told me he was coming and he was going to bring me home. I was scared cuz I thought she meant he was going to take me without you. But you’re here, so it’s cool.” He shrugged and looked up at his father like he hadn’t dropped a bomb of massive proportions on both of us.
Angel’s face was blanched, and I worried about how he was handling what Trace had said on top of his recent injury. He rested both hands on Trace’s shoulders as he crouched to put himself at his level.
“What did she look like?” he asked in a raspy voice.
Trace appeared to think for a minute as his nose wrinkled and then he brightened. “Kinda like that book Mom used to read me. With the girl with black hair.”
“That’s not narrowing things down much,” I said.
Angel pulled out his wallet and then a tattered photo from the inside pocket. “Was this her?”
“Yeah! That’s Grandma!” He smiled, pleased that we knew who he was talking about.
Angel met my gaze over his shoulder, and we both swallowed hard. I nearly choked. How the hell does one process that within a week they discovered their son has the ability to heal others, his father didn’t know anything about him, someone lied to keep us all apart, and said son has been having conversations with his dead grandmother. Nightly.
One hand braced on the wall, I clutched my heart.Holy shit.
“Is it okay to call you my dad?” He suddenly looked worried as his brown eyes flickered from Angel to me.
Angel let out a deep breath. “Little man, it’s absolutely perfect if you want to call me Dad. I’d be honored. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. Huh?”
Trace nodded sagely.
“Okay. Wow. Um, let’s get you something to eat.” I tried to sound like everything was normal and I hadn’t heard the things I’d heard.
Angel stood and guided Trace down the hall. We entered the large room again but skirted the wall to where he pushed through a swinging metal door like you’d see in a restaurant. The man he’d called Ghost and three other guys were all sitting around the table drinking coffee. They wore leather vests with the same patch on the back.
“Trace, Korrie, this is Ghost, Chains, Squirrel, Facet, and you remember Voodoo?” My brow furrowed, then understanding dawned.
“Oh my God! Ogun Dupré? It’s been years.” From the chin lift he gave me, he didn’t look too keen on me being there. His eyes trailed to my son, and surprise flared in them briefly.
“Korrie.” His deep voice carried over the brim of his mug. He set it on the table after taking a slow sip. “Who’s this little guy?”
My heart cracked when Trace grabbed Angel’s hand and crowded his side. Though it was strange to see after all these years, it amazed me. He’d taken to the man who was his father as if he’d known him all his life. Then again, if what he’d said about Angeline was true, maybe he had.
Jesus Christ.
“This is my son, Trace. Say hello, son.” He wrapped an arm around Trace and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Trace looked up at him for confirmation, and my chest ached more that the little boy I’d raised single-handedly looked to the man he’d just met over his mother.
“Hi.” Trace gave a little wave.
“Excuse me.” A pregnant woman with golden blonde hair stepped around me as she laid a hand on my arm. She gave Angel, then me a questioning look before sitting down next to Voodoo. God, what was with the weird names?
“Korrie, this is my wife, Kira.” The woman he introduced smiled and gave a little wave.
“Nice to meet you,” I said through the mouthful of cotton I suddenly seemed to have.
“Is there any breakfast leftover?” Angel asked the room. They motioned to the covered dishes on the counter. There was a shuffling behind me, and I tried to see who was joining the shitshow that had become my life.
“Oh my God! Is that you, Jasmine?” I exclaimed as the dark-haired, dark-eyed yawning woman stopped behind me.
She started to respond but was interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping on the floor.
“Should be plenty. I need to get to the shop.” The man covered in tattoos drained his mug and left the table. “See you all tonight.”
The tension rolling off him made me wonder if I’d said or done something wrong.
We moved further into the room so he could pass and Jasmine could come in. Angel had Trace sit at the table next to Ghost. As one, Trace and Ghost looked over to the corner of the room, then at each other. Surprise registered on Ghost’s face as he narrowed his eyes at Trace, then cast a glance to Angel, who shook his head.
