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Yes, he remembered. But it had just been stupid conversations. “You think my real mother was murdered by my father and I’m some long-lost kidnapped child? You have a very active imagination there, egghead.”
She punched his shoulder. “Don’t you start calling me that again.”
He laughed. Even though she liked to pretend she hated that name, he knew she secretly liked it. “But it’s such a good nickname.”
“It was never a good nickname.” She crossed the room, and he followed after her.
“I beg to differ.” He opened the door, and they stepped out into the night. The temperature had dropped, and Remi rubbed her bare arm, so Colton put his arm around her without thinking and then wondered if he was once again making her uncomfortable. He hoped not, because he liked the feeling of Remi in his arms. It felt right somehow.
They stepped up to her door and he turned to her. “Thanks for coming over.”
“If you have free time tomorrow, I’ll come back and we can finish that movie. And maybe play some Final Fantasy.” She grinned at him.
“Perfect. I’ll text you.” He had no idea how long his outing with Liz would take. All afternoon, probably. But that might leave him the evening free. He’d take it. He was anxious for Remi to see the rest of that movie and to spend more time with her. Tonight had been fun. Even more so than he’d expected.
Remi nodded and disappeared behind her door.
Instead of going back to his room he took a walk around the courtyard of the resort and toward the small garden area. The gentle gurgling noise from a koi pond carried in the air. He sat on the bench and let his mind wander back to that odd note his father had dropped.
Remi’s voice echoed in his mind.You don’t look anything like your father.He had to admit, she was right. He had light brown hair with a hint of red, whereas his father had jet black hair, and his mother was blonde. His father had a sharp nose and dark brown eyes, but Colton had a wider nose and a more pronounced jawline and cheekbones. He did have some resemblance to his mother. He and she shared the same eye shape and they both had one dimple. But he couldn’t think of a single feature he shared with his father.
And then there was the odd way his parents had acted when he had said they were going to be doing blood typing at school. They’d packed up the van and went to Disneyland, which was odd because it was the middle of the school year. At the time, he’d wondered about it, but his parents had said they’d been planning the trip as a surprise and hadn’t said anything because they didn’t want to ruin it. He’d shrugged it off. He hadn’t thought about that in a long time. But now it just made things seem weirder.
He didn’t think his father was capable of murder, but you always hear about the serial killer’s neighbor who thought they were so nice and quiet. Never had loud parties. Always got their paper for them when they were on vacation. They wouldn’t have suspected a thing. Did that mean his father could have done something so heinous?
He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. He was letting his love of scary movies take over his imagination. His father didn’t murder anyone and steal their kid. But it was possible his mother had an affair and they both decided to cover it up.
On a whim he pulled out his phone and dialed his mother. He had no idea what he was going to say to her. He just did it without thinking. When his mother answered, he leaned back on the bench and crossed his ankles. “Hey, Mom.”
“Is everything okay? It’s late.”
Oh. Yeah. He’d forgotten it was after eleven o’clock. His mom always went to bed early. Oops. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay. What is it?”
Great. Now what was he supposed to ask her? He wasn’t about to just come out and ask if she had an affair. He needed something more subtle. Something less offensive. “What’s my blood type?” Silence came through the line and as the seconds piled up he wondered if he’d lost her. “Hello?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. Why are you asking that?”
“Because I don’t remember what it is. And they tell you that stuff when you have a kid, right?”
She paused. “Well, yes. I think so. But that was twenty-five years ago, dear.”
“What blood type are you and Dad?”
“Colton. What is going on? Why did you call so late at night to ask about blood types?”
Was it just his imagination, or was his mother deflecting? Maybe Remi’s direct approach was best. “Is Dad my biological father?” he blurted out. Dead silence. Time seemed to slow as he waited for her. “Mom?”
The sound of the bubbling koi pond filled the silence until, finally, she spoke. “Of course, he is.” Her voice had lost all hint of warmth.
A cold feeling spread through him and settled in his stomach. He didn’t believe her. A normal person would laugh at a question like that if it wasn’t true. Instead, she grew silent and then acted like he’d asked her if she had stabbed someone.
Shock and disbelief swirled around inside him. He hadn’t really expected his mother to confirm his suspicions. He figured she would settle his fears and they’d both get a good chuckle out of it. He hadn’t expected her to act like this.
He didn’t know what to say. Her reaction caught him off guard. He didn’t want to admit to her that he didn’t believe her. He didn’t want to call her a liar. He’d gotten his answer. At least, he was pretty sure he had. He quickly got off the phone and then stared at the bright orange fish as they swam under the surface of the water. He had no idea what to do with this information.
The words from the note came back to him.I know the truth about Colton.This had to be it. He wasn’t his father’s biological son. His parents had been lying to him his whole life. But what did the next part mean?
