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Again, she paused, blinking at me. Then she nodded, her head bobbing up and down so fast some wayward curls fell over her face. “Okay.”
I think my smile grew even more. I leaned in, pressing my lips lightly to her forehead. “I’ll see you then.”
I straightened, backing away from her because all I wanted to do was stay with her and lay in that bed all day, doing some very, very questionable things. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
I opened the door and gave a small wave before I slipped through, shutting it behind me.
I had a date with Wren Brooks. And I was excited about it.
How the world had changed so quickly.
I sipped my coffee, catching a glimpse of Colton over the rim of my mug. He stared at me pointedly, eyes narrowed.
I arched a brow. “What?”
His eyes narrowed further into slits. “You seem…different.”
I set my mug down, rolling my eyes. “I’m no different than yesterday.” I glanced back at my computer screen.
“No, I don’t think so,” he continued. I looked at him as he scratched his jaw. “You almost look—happy.”
I snapped my eyes back to my screen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I lied. He chuckled, and my face heated.
“Holy shit, Atlas.” His chair scraped against the linoleum as he stood up. “Could this sudden mood change of yours have anything to do with the tiny blonde living in your backyard?” He clapped me hard on the back, and I shot him a glare.
“I think you should mind your own damn business and do your job,” I muttered.
Colton laughed, throwing his head back. “Damn, boy, you’ve got it bad, don’t ya?” When I didn’t reply, he snickered. “I’m happy for you, man. Wren seemed real nice. Definitely easy on the eyes too.” He winked, and I think I growled.
He didn’t need to have his wandering eyes on Wren, that’s for sure.
But I appreciated the sentiment. Not that I wanted him in my business, but I guess it showed he cared.
Colton gave me a last wink before turning. “Well, I’m going to get myself some coffee.”
“Yes, please. Go.”
He flipped me the bird over his shoulder.
With the distraction of Colton out of the way, I finally brought my full attention to my computer. My pulse rocketed at the message I’d waited days for.
I opened the attached image, heart in my throat.
The image opened, a copy of a Mississippi driver’s license. My heart stopped beating for one second as I stared at the photo on that ID.
Everything slowed down as I looked into the eyes of the man who had once invoked utter terror within me. Now, all I felt when I looked into those eyes was anger.
My father, my real flesh-and-blood father, looked older than I remembered. The years were not kind to him. He was only fifty-five years old but he looked closer to seventy. His skin was sallow and wrinkled. Cheeks hollowed to match a much thinner frame than he’d once had.
My back teeth ground together as I saved the image and jotted down important details. His name, for one. I had been slightly off: Johnathan James Williams.
My father. A monster.
