Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Truck sobers, the blissed-out look on his face gone too soon.
“I’ll handle it. The compound is secure, so it’s one of ours or one of the staff. Don’t be concerned.”
I know my expression is full of worry because I can feel the tension around my mouth.
He kisses my cheek, brushing my damp hair back. “Love you, sweetheart.”
When he steps back, cool air sweeps in. “I’ll just rinse off, get dressed, and be right out.”
He forces a tight smile as he pulls his boxer briefs back up and snags a pair of pants from the adjoining walk-in closet.
His movements are a little too stiff. He’s in pain. That upsets me.
I should have said no, but he’s such a bad influence.
Only, I’m not going to complain. This once.
The man knows how to deliver when it comes to my pleasure.
After a quick rinse in the ridiculously beautiful shower with four heads, I hurry through the spacious suite. They weren’t joking when Truck’s team told us the ‘cave’ was plush.
“This place is ridiculous,” I mutter to myself as I tread on a wool rug that’s at least three inches thick.
The high, rock walls glisten with embedded veins of gold, velvet brown, and even flashes of gemstone colors.
This place puts most other five-star resorts to shame. And to know Luke—the silent partner in Agile—bought it for the team and their families makes me understand how much his teams mean to him.
It’s secluded. Safe. Decked out.
The perfect place for us.
A refuge while Truck heals, and somewhere my father and his men can’t get to us.
I finally slept last night, knowing that.
In a hand-carved dresser that nestles perfectly against the smooth cave walls, I find another pair of panties that Truck picked out for me. But I don’t have time to think about all the ways that makes me hot right now.
We haven’t had a single visitor since we arrived. This development makes my unease grow as I pull on a tank top, cashmere joggers, and a zip-sweater.
Truck’s voice drifts down a long corridor that leads to one of the main sitting areas. “How did you find her?”
My interest peaks immediately. Quickening my steps, I close the distance.
Maybe it’s Justice. Maybe it’s about Rosalie…
Worry makes my stomach flutter.
Truck’s not talking to a visitor. He’s on the phone when I step into the cavern that’s been turned into a giant sitting room.
Clusters of leather couches and complimentary chairs are spread about the space.
He’s sitting stiffly on one, phone clutched to his ear.
There’s a dark concern in his gaze when it meets mine.
“We’ll be ready.” He looks at the floor as he listens to something on the other end, then disconnects the call.
“Who was here?”
“Just Stephanie, she found my phone. It was ringing. Thought maybe it was important.”
I’m partially relieved that it was just the woman who delivers groceries to us, but the way he’s watching me with his brows locked down tight makes me even more worried.
“Were you talking to Beast?” I ask because he doesn’t seem too eager to tell me.
“Yeah. There’s a call coming in momentarily. For you.”
The butterflies in my stomach turn to darts. “I take it that’s not good, given that murderous expression.”
“Sit down.” He opens his arm, and I carefully nuzzle against him.
I try to relax but fail. “You know it’s not making me feel better that you won’t tell me what’s happening.”
He touches my cheek. Searches my gaze. Swallows roughly, then detonates a bomb in the small space between us.
“Marshall’s guy found your mother.”
Whoa.
No.
“That’s impossible.”
He sweeps a thumb over my cheek. “The DNA is a solid match. But Westerly’s isn’t. He’s no relation.”
Breathe.
My fingernails bite my palms.
Just breathe.
This can’t be true.
“My mother’s dead.”
The pain spreading behind my sternum is rolling out to my fingertips. The base of my throat is hot, but the room suddenly feels chilled.
He goes on in a gentle tone. “I’m talking about your biological mother. She’s going to be calling on my phone in five minutes. You can choose to talk to her or not. It’s totally up to you.”
“This has to be some kind of mix-up.”
“Marshall’s men are good. They wouldn’t have told us this unless they were sure.”
My mind reels.
When I rise to my feet, Truck lets me go. “Then who is the man who says he’s my father?”
“We don’t know. Your biological mother won’t tell the story to anyone but you.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I turn away.
The pain of this betrayal is so severe it threatens to rip me in half.
I don’t hear him approach.
His heat wraps around me first, then his strong arms. “I’m here with you, sweetheart. Lean on me.”
“I feel…lost.”
“I know. But I’ve got you. You're mine now.”
His.
Heavens that feels good.
But the pain is consuming, a deep, black vine with wicked thorns that is twisted around every inch of my past.
Tears leak over my lashes and down my cheeks, but I don’t even feel like wiping the acid stain off of me.
I’m unraveling from the inside out.
“He lied to me.”
Truck’s growl rumbles through his chest into me, a reminder he’s going to hold me up, no matter how badly I break.
I don’t have to hold myself together. I’m not alone now.
But I have no idea how to handle this. There are other people involved now. Like a biological mother who is calling me in seconds.
“Should I talk to her?”
“That’s up to you, babe. Even if you want to wait and do it later, there’s no pressure.”
Sniffling, I shake my head. “Everything was a lie. But now so much makes sense. It was always nannies and science clubs and anything to keep me out of the house. He only paid attention to what I was doing when he thought it could serve his purpose.”
Truck’s phone rings.
He slides it from his pocket and holds it in front of me, still keeping his other arm looped possessively around me. “I’m right here.”
I steady my hand.
Take the phone.
Blow out a breath.
It’s hard to force any sound out when I hit accept. “Hello…”
The first thing I hear is crying. Then a watery, “Allison?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Vanessa.”
The lump in my throat is made of flaming glass.
“Th-thank you for calling.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”