Chapter 6
SIX
HARLAN
I slam the front door behind me as rage erupts through my blood.
She fuckin’ hid my kid in plain sight, right under my motherfuckin’ nose for the last three damn years? My son. She lied to me. Told me she miscarried. I never fuckin’ questioned it; why would I?
It was better that way. We didn’t need a damn kid; we could barely take care of ourselves.
At least that was what I told myself. I was doing time when she told me she was pregnant and coming back home to Kentucky, and I was still there when she told me she miscarried.
I never felt her pregnant stomach, I never felt a child kick.
Therefore, I had nothing to tether myself to the idea of being a father.
Until today.
From the moment his eyes locked on mine, it was confirmation that I am his father.
But what do I do with that information? Justice will never admit the truth to me.
And she’d probably be better off for it because it’s untelling how I’d react.
I’d likely wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until there’s no more air for her to breathe.
“Motherfuck!” I scream and punch the wall, my fist going through the plywood.
How could she do this to me? How could she lie to me about my own son? I’m a bastard, a cruel, dangerous man. I’ve broken Justice to my will, possessed her as if she’s an object instead of her own being. She’s mine, and I’ll be damned if my son won’t be too.
I hear the burner ringing, so I go into the bedroom to answer.
“What?”
“We got a run. Meet me at the warehouse in an hour,” Silas says, and I end the call.
I grab my duffle from the closet and toss some clothes in, my mind reeling out of control.
If I stay here and wait for Justice, I’m liable to hurt her.
But she will fuckin’ answer for this whether she likes it or not.
I swipe my burner off the bed and dial the motherfucker I know holds the truth.
“Hello,” he answers on the third ring, the sound of some instrumental music in the background. Probably at the country club or some shit.
“Monday morning. Your chambers. You better have the answers to every question I have for you.”
I end the call and head out to my truck.
I have a run to make, and the Donovan Syndicate doesn’t like to be left waiting.