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“Why?” I ask, more for curiosity’s sake than anything else.
He sounds desperate, almost panicked. “She shouldn’t be doing what she’s doing,” he says.
“Uncle Dean?” I snap.
There is a moment of silence, then I hear him inhale a deep breath before he lets it out on a sigh. I wait, wondering what the fuck he’s going to say and somehow knowing it’s going to completely rock my whole fucking world when he does.
“Uncle Dean?” I ask on a rasp.
“Shiloh is my daughter.”
ChapterTwenty
WELLS
I staretoward the window that I know is my apartment and try to force myself to breathe. I do not understand what he’s just said. Because it sounds like he said Shiloh is our cousin. Yet Coleman had been fucking her, and everyone was trying to get him to marry her.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Does Dad know?” I ask.
Another moment of silence before he speaks. “He didn’t. I had an affair with her mother over twenty years ago. I was married. She was not. Ray was an associate, new to the scene and trying to make some fast money in real estate along with other endeavors. I introduced them.”
Fuck.
“You’re telling me that Coleman was fucking his cousin?” I hiss. “And you not only knew, but you encouraged a future marriage?”
If it weren’t my family, if it were anybody else, I would be laughing my ass off at the whole situation. But since this is my fucking uncle and brother involved, I can’t quite find the humor in it yet, but I guarantee I’ll be calling my brother acousin fuckersoon enough.
I still cannot believe his words.
None of them.
“Dad will have you killed for this,” I rasp. “Not only did you father a child that was not your wife’s, but you also hid it, then you didn’t say a fucking thing when Coleman started fucking her, or at least when Dad was trying to push the marriage between them.”
Uncle Dean doesn’t respond to me. In fact, he begins to sob like a bitch. I find that disgusting. Curling my lip, I clear my throat and wait for him to stop. It’s fucking pathetic, and I can’t believe I am related by blood to this man. If he were in front of me, I might kill him and put him and myself out of this misery.
“Are you finished?” I ask when I don’t hear his blubbering any longer.
“She can’t die,” he whispers.
With a heavy sigh, I make him a promise. I have to get him off the phone and call my father. Regardless of what Coleman feels or how I feel, the director needs to know this shit.
“Just help me,” Uncle Dean whimpers. “If I die, I die. But she can’t. She’s part of me. Help me.”
“I will.”
And Iwillhelp him. It won’t be the way he thinks I should, but I don’t give much of a fuck. A promise is a fucking promise. I’m going to help him, all right, I’m going to help him into a goddamn grave.
Ending the call, I do the exact opposite of what he wants, or maybe this is truly what he wanted and didn’t want to admit it. I have no fucking clue. Finding my father’s contact in my phone, I let out a grunt as it rings. He picks up almost immediately on the second ring.
“Wells,” he rumbles.
I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends before I begin. My first question is the only one I truly need answered to know if Uncle Dean was telling me the truth or not, although I’m not sure he has any reason to lie to me.
“Uncle Dean ever fuck Ray Randolph’s wife before she married him?”
There is a moment of silence, then he clears his throat. “You’re hearing this where?” he asks.
