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“What the fuck is going on, baby?”
I squeeze my eyes closed and inhale shakily. “We need to talk, Gray. There’s something I have to tell you.”
Grayson tightens his grip on me and carries me to the sofa, sitting down with me in his lap. “Ari, talk to me. What happened? Where were you?”
I look into his eyes, wishing they weren’t an exact replica of the tear-filled eyes I looked into earlier today. I raise my hand to his face, my finger tracing over his cheekbone.
“I… I went to meet someone, Gray. A woman.”
He looks confused, and I don’t blame him. I’m scared. I’m scared of not choosing the right words, of hurting him more than this story doubtlessly already will.
“She told me she had a child almost thirty years ago. Her son would be twenty-nine now, and just like you, he was left in front of a church.”
I see the hope in his eyes, and it kills me. I force myself to keep my eyes on his, to be brave. I swallow hard, blinking back my tears. “The church she left her son at was the same one you were left at. It could be a coincidence, but maybe it’s not.”
Gray tenses, and the hint of happiness in his eyes kills me. “You found my mother?”
I’m messing this all up. I have to tell him what he needs to know.
“Gray, the woman… it was Ida, our rape victim.”
He tenses, and I wish I could take my words back instantly. The incomprehension in his eyes quickly turns into horror, and I grab his shoulders.
“I could be wrong. I must be. I just… I don’t know. I had to tell you. I couldn’t not tell you.”
Gray cups my cheek and leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I love you, Aria,” he whispers, but his voice sounds pained. “Don’t worry, okay? All of this might just be a crazy coincidence. Let’s focus on the case, okay? Tell me everything.”
I nod and wrap my arms around him, my grip tight as I repeat the story Ida told me. Or as much of it as I can.
Gray tenses, and though he tries his best to stay calm, I see the worry in his eyes as I tell him most of what Ida told me. I see the way he grimaces, the way he recoils in horror. I hope I’m wrong. I hope Gray is right, and this is all just a crazy coincidence. He listens to me as I finish telling the story, never once interrupting.
He runs a hand through his hair and looks away, his gaze on the window. “We found George, didn’t we?”
I nod, knowing where he’s going with this.
“We’ll have to do a DNA test. I could be living proof of his crime. If there’s DNA evidence, there’s hope. We’ll need to have the legal team look into that straight away.”
“Gray,” I whisper. “Forget about the case for a minute… what about you? Everything I just told you, it’s a lot. What if you do that test, and you end up being Ida’s son?”
Gray looks into my eyes and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. “I don’t know, baby. I’ve been looking for my parents all my life. Of course I don’t want to be the son of a… a…”
I lean in and rest my head against his shoulder, and he hugs me tightly. “I bet it’s just a coincidence,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my hair. “Maybe it is, Nyx. Maybe it isn’t. Either way, I need to know. The questions I’ve lived with all my life… even if the answers I’m seeking aren’t the ones I’m after, I’d still rather have them than not. I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering.”
I nod, my lips brushing against his neck. I hope this is all a misunderstanding, a trick of fate. If it isn’t, it might destroy the man I love.
53
Grayson
I stare up at the ceiling, unable to calm my thoughts. I’ve been looking for my parents for years, and never once did I consider this. I knew there would be a chance my mother gave me up knowingly, but I never could have even dreamt of something like this.
Could I really be the son of a monster? Does his blood run through my veins? I’ll find out tomorrow, and I’m feeling conflicted. On the one hand, I want answers. On the other, I’m scared of what truth I might uncover.
It would explain the violence I struggle to suppress. The satisfaction I felt when I put my former foster father into a coma for touching one of the girls in our home. I’ve known something is wrong with me ever since then, when I realized I felt no remorse at all. I felt that same satisfaction when I wrecked Brad’s face and his entire life, too. Do I get that from my father?
Aria turns in my arms, her lips brushing past my neck. “Can’t sleep?” she whispers.
