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‘Come again?’ If the fucker was having a joke at his expense, it would be the last joke he ever made, because Dornan would drive over to his house and kill Viper with his bare hands.
‘That’s not all,’ Viper said.
There was something else? Dornan could hear the reluctance in Viper’s tone. There was something else.
‘Go on,’ Dornan ground out.
‘She’s got a kid, man. A son. He’s fifteen. I’m pretty sure he’s yours.’
Fifteen.
FIFTEEN.
The kid was fifteen.
He had a son out there, somewhere, and he hadn’t even known.
It all fit together now, all made total, devastating sense. She hadn’t been taken – hadn’t been killed.
She had run away. With his baby inside her.
She had stolen something that belonged to him.
Dornan’s grip on the phone became even tighter, the plastic starting to buckle under the pressure.
‘Boss?’ Viper said nervously.
Few things were capable of shocking Dornan Ross these days, jaded and weary as he was, but this was like someone had just dropped an atomic bomb in his lap and asked him to please sit still.
‘Where is she?’ Dornan asked, feeling almost two decades worth of sadness and guilt collect into a vortex of what could only be described as a black, festering rage.
‘Dee—’
‘Where?’ He was so enraged by her apparent betrayal, he couldn’t even bear the weight of her name on his lips.
‘Colorado,’ Viper conceded. ‘I’m texting you the address right now.’ A brief pause. ‘What are you going to do?’
Dornan started to pace, completely ignoring Celia, who was watching his every move. He wondered if she could hear Viper’s side of the conversation. Doubtful. Dornan could barely hear him.
‘I’m going to go on a little road trip,’ Dornan said, ending the call.
He needed to smash something. Now. Celia was in front of him. No. She didn’t deserve his wrath, not over this. He tamped down his rage momentarily, as his phone buzzed again with a text message. He glanced at the screen and saw a Colorado address flash up. Took a deep breath.
‘Who was that? Everything okay?’ Celia asked in a small voice.
No, everything was most certainly not okay. It was the furthest place from okay that was humanly possible.
‘Work,’ he lied, though he didn’t need to explain anything to her. The way she was staring at him was making him itch. The bitch would do well to remember who was in charge in this relationship.
‘Dornan,’ she said quietly.
He expected her to launch into a tirade – it was her go-to – but instead her eyes filled with tears.
‘Fuck,’ Dornan muttered. Perhaps a better man would have felt regret over his callousness, over his rough rejection. Not Dornan. All he felt was annoyance. ‘Celia.’
She dissolved into sobs. Dornan hastily did his belt buckle up and glared at his wife. He looked at the screen on his cellphone and back to Celia. Her hands were covering her face now, her shoulders moving up and down as she cried silently.
‘Celia, just tell me what you want,’ he said gruffly.
