Chapter Thirteen #2
Gia’s fork landed on her plate with a loud clank, her face pale.
He grimaced. That was a dick move.
But she’d lied. Manipulated him. Then she’d gone behind his back with this quaint family gathering he had no interest in .
And worst of all?
He still wanted her.
Tension rolled over the table like a heavy mist.
Ben’s brows knit as he glanced between them. “I came with an offer for Gia. The clinic has a full-time position available when your contract ends.”
Surprise flickered across Gia’s face, followed by a flash of happiness so pure it nearly blinded Caleb.
Then came the crash. Her expression shuttered like someone had blown out a candle. “I’m honored—and I’d love to stay,” she said quietly. “But I can’t.”
“Because of the man you left?” Ben asked gently.
“It’s not safe.”
“We’ll make it safe,” Caleb said.
He shut his eyes as the realization of what he’d just committed to hit him.
But it made sense. She needed to be rid of Vincente Lopez if she was ever going to live in peace, and he wanted justice for his mother.
He could help her and himself at the same time.
She turned to him, startled. Wary. But a flicker of hope lit her eyes.
One that had him rubbing his chest as guilt burned a hole in his esophagus.
She didn’t know what he wanted in return.
A smile hovered on Ben’s lips, as if everything had turned in his favor. “Grandson, this job protecting others fulfills you?”
“Yes,” Caleb said, guarded. Where was this going?
“Your cousin feels the same way. Only he chose to return home after his time in the Marine Corps. ”
Was that a hint of censure in the old man’s tone? A slow, decades old resentment writhed behind Caleb’s ribs. “Zach’s family didn’t shun him.”
Ben’s sigh was weary. “We never shunned you or your mother. I tried for years to get her to come home and bring you with her. She refused.”
It was on the tip of Caleb’s tongue to call his grandfather a liar. “My mother died believing her family abandoned her.”
Pain briefly seared Ben’s eyes. “You and my daughter were always welcome. Wanted. It was your father I wouldn’t welcome.”
He glanced at Gia, then back at Caleb. “Perhaps you would prefer we have this conversation in private.”
Bitter memories of Caleb’s childhood—of his mother’s pain—closed in fast. He wasn’t in the mood to be the polite dinner guest and wipe away unpleasantries with his napkin.
“Gia can hear whatever it is you have to say.”His grandfather took a slow sip of his water. “Very well,” he said, his voice low. “I apologize for speaking ill of your father.”
“No need to sugar-coat your opinion. He was a bastard.”
Resentment simmered beneath Caleb’s words. “But he’s been dead for years. Where have you been? Mom needed you.”
Pressure built in his hand—unnoticed until pain flared in his fingers. He glanced down. The fork was bent, metal warped from the force of his grip.
Jaw tight, he set it aside.
“Who do you think paid for your mother to receive treatment when you were in high school? And again, while you were deployed?” Ben pushed aside his plate and steepled his fingers.
“It was the only help she would accept, and only because she didn’t want you to get a message while you were overseas that your mother was dead. ”
Caleb shook his head. “If what you say is true, then why did she tell me you abandoned us?”
Despite her struggles, Caleb’s mother had never lied to him.
At least he hadn’t thought so.
“That, I can’t answer, Grandson.” Ben placed his napkin on the table and stood. “But I can show you this.” He reached into his suit coat and withdrew folded papers, which he handed to Caleb.
Caleb hesitated, then accepted the documents. Rehab admission forms for a facility in Phoenix. His mother’s name. Payment records. Benjamin Blackwater listed as the responsible party.
What the hell? Why hadn't he known about this?
Why hadn’t his mother told him?
He handed the papers back to his grandfather without a word, unsure of what to say.
Ben placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.
Caleb stiffened.
“You’ve always been in my heart,” Ben said. “So was your mother. All I ask is that you consider the possibility that what you believe…isn’t the whole truth.”
He turned to Gia. “Thank you for the meal. It was an honor.”
“I will think about the offer,” she said softly. “You accepted me into this community when I had nowhere else to go. I won’t forget that.”
“You belong here.” Ben patted her on the cheek, then cast another long look at Caleb. “Both of you do.”
Belong? His grandfather dangled belonging in his face like bait on a hook.
What would it feel like to have a family? Roots? A place to call home that meant more than where he rested his head at night ?
He told himself it didn’t matter. But deep down, the boy who’d once played with his cousin, ate his grandmother’s corn cakes, and looked up to his stern but loving grandfather knew the truth.
It mattered more than he wanted to admit.
And now, with everything shifting under his feet, he couldn’t help but wonder what else he didn’t know.
What had been kept from him.
What Gia hadn’t told him.
Something cold coiled in his chest.
It wasn’t just the past he couldn’t trust.
It was the present.