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The same night we had our dinner. That was all she had to say, and I knew.
“Uncle Brody,” I breathed.
Mia lifted her glassy eyes to mine and gave a single sorrowful nod.
My uncle Brody had been my biological father this whole time, and we’d never known. He never knew, and now he never would.
The harshness of reality slammed into me, stealing the air from my lungs.
I thought I’d been okay with how my life had unfolded. With the adoption and my family. I’d thought nothing Mia could say would have changed the past, but I’d been wrong. The truth changed everything.
“I’m so sorry, Conner,” Mia whispered. “I had no way to find you before. I would have told you if I’d known how close you already were. I would have wanted you to know. These last two weeks have been agonizing to know how everything unfolded. It was so unfair. I didn’t want to keep the truth from you for a minute longer.”
“It’s not your fault,” I murmured distractedly, surprised to realize I believed what I said. I didn’t blame her for any of it. Her parents, perhaps, but more than anyone, my ire was zeroed in on the group of people who had taken my father from me.
The fucking Albanians.
They’d stolen my chance to ever connect with Brody Byrne as father and son. And for what? A pathetic attempt at intimidation? I’d show them intimidation. I’d burn their entire organization to the ground.
Fury took up arms with a vengeance and rattled the bars of my control.
A volcano of hate erupted inside me, spewing rivers of molten rage through my veins.
I had to get out of there. I had to find an outlet for the vicious monster seething inside me before he aimed his bloodlust at an innocent.
“Thank you for sharing this, Mia.” I stood, my movements stiff and uncoordinated. “I know it wasn’t easy to come here, and you don’t have to feel guilty about anything. The adoption. Brody. None of it was your fault.” I managed to force my gaze to hers in an attempt to project my sincerity, then gave her a hug. The first hug we’d ever shared. She’d been through just as much turmoil as I had, if not more. I had no desire to magnify her pain. She wasn’t the one who deserved to suffer.
“Thank you for listening,” she said in a quivering voice as she pulled away, a small smile on her thin lips. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
“It’s not a bother, Mia. Truly. All of this has been a lot to process, but you’re never a bother.”
More tears pooled in her eyes before she smiled and retreated to the doors.
Opening my phone, I dialed Bishop.
“Hey, man. I—”
I cut him off before he could say another word. “You got anything on that license plate yet?” Each clipped word was seething with aggression.
“Uh, yeah. I have an address, but—”
“Give it to me.”
Bishop’s voice sobered. “You need backup? I don’t have any other intel on these guys yet. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to—”
“Address,” I ground out with enough savagery to silence him, then hung up the second I had what I needed.
Noemi was waiting for me in the living room when I got upstairs. I walked right past her toward the bedroom.
“I have to go out,” I told her when she jumped up to follow. “You need to stay here.”
My lethal intensity magnified her worry.
“What did Mia say?” she asked, her voice small as though she was scared to ask.
“Nothing I want to talk about right now. I have something I have to do.” In the master closet, I took out my unregistered handguns from their hidden compartments and slipped on my chest holster.
“Is this about my dad? You aren’t going to confront him, are you?”
