Epilogue
One month later
“Did Roxie say what she wanted?” Cam asked.
“No, but it sounded important. She seemed edgy.”
Lexie looked around with concern. They were at The Ruckus in the middle of the afternoon.
The place was quiet and the neon beer signs were dimmed.
Rather than a bass thumping through the sidewalk, birds were chirping overhead.
It made the bar seem lifeless, but her sister had called not half an hour ago, asking to meet.
“Isn’t she always?” he muttered.
“Not edgy edgy. She sounded anxious and cryptic.”
“That’s not good.”
No, it wasn’t. Lexie caught Cam’s hand and started walking towards the bar.
He wove his fingers through hers and sealed their palms together.
He moved closer, but it wasn’t danger that Lexie sensed.
She didn’t know what it was. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she’d picked up on her twin’s mood. Something was off, not quite right.
As if sensing her unease, Cam began walking faster.
They reached the bar quickly, and he pulled on the door handle.
The place wasn’t locked. The door swung open, and he let her enter first. Lexie immediately began searching for her sister.
The lighting was dim, though, and her eyes were slow to adjust.
“Finally,” Roxie exclaimed. “What took you so long?”
She was at the bar, but she covered the distance to the front door in record time.
She was wearing low-riding jeans and a purple halter top that showed off her figure.
For once, her feet weren’t adorned with leather boots.
She wore flip-flops instead, but that just showed off her toe rings. It was classic Roxie.
And yet, it wasn’t.
She seemed different, a little off-kilter. She tended to let her hair go curly, but today it was extra wild, as if she’d pulled her hands through it a couple dozen times. Her face was pale, and she’d chewed off her red lipstick.
That, more than anything, made Lexie nervous. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Mmm, nothing necessarily.” Roxie raked her fingers through her hair, showing just how it had gotten that way. Not having anything else to do, she pointed at a table. “Sit. Do you want something to drink? Water? Soda?”
“I’ll take a beer.”
She jumped. “Oh hey, Hatchet. I didn’t see you there.”
“Evil Twin,” Cam said with a nod.
“Beer, right.” She turned. “Lexie?”
“A Diet Coke is fine.” The bar was exactly as it had been the first time Lexie had stormed in here.
The chairs were all sitting upside down on the tables, except for one that Roxie had readied for them.
The jukebox was silent, and Skeeter and Charlie were nowhere to be found.
The scene looked ready for an intervention—or a confession.
Roxie chewed at her lip. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger?”
Lexie frowned. “Am I going to need it?”
“I’ll get the bourbon.”
Roxie hurried behind the bar as Lexie watched in confusion.
Her sister’s behavior was making the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
She was not good with suspense or secrets, especially not after the summer she’d had.
Already, her thoughts were running down a hundred different trails.
Had Julian done something? Had Roxie gone to the tabloids even when she’d promised not to?
Lexie narrowed her eyes as she watched her twin work behind the bar. There was already a half-empty glass on the counter. She cocked her foot back on its heel. She’d never known Roxie to drink during the day, although she really hadn’t known her sister for that long.
What would make a person drink hard liquor at two o’clock in the afternoon?
Roxie set the bourbon on the bar and went to the tap to fill a chilled mug.
Foam built up, and air in the line made the amber liquid sputter.
She jumped back out of the way, cursing vividly.
She grabbed a rag, but the first thing she wiped down wasn’t the counter or the mug.
It was a file folder sitting on the bar by her half-finished drink.
Lexie’s gaze honed in on the manila folder. It looked out of place in a biker bar.
“What is that? Is that our DNA test results?” She’d gotten her copy days ago. A big positive. Identical all the way. There hadn’t been some mistake, had there?
Setting her purse on the table, she headed for the folder, but Roxie slapped her hand down over it protectively. There was a glint in her eyes that warned Lexie not to push.
“Sit,” her twin said. “I’ll be there in a second.”
Grabbing a new mug, she lifted it to the tap. This one filled smoothly, with the expertise of someone who’d poured beer for a long, long time.
Lexie glanced at Cam. He was watching her sister with that look he’d used whenever Accounting’s numbers hadn’t jived. Lexie perched herself on the edge of the chair’s seat. Cam gently ran a hand over her hair.
Roxie rounded the bar with their drinks and set them on the table before them.
For a moment her worried gaze cleared. It became speculative as it ran over the two of them and the way they’d positioned their chairs so closely together.
“Don’t you two ever get tired of one another?
I mean, you work together and you play together. ”
“Roxie.” Lexie tapped her hand on the table. “Why did you call us here? You’re making us nervous.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to. I’ve got something to tell you. It’s just… Well, it’s big. Huge, actually.” She adjusted their drinks in front of them and stepped back. Wiping her hands on her jeans, she threw another look at the folder on the bar.
“This isn’t going to cost me another five grand, is it?” Cam asked dryly.
“No.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans once again. “The first five got me plenty.”
Lexie didn’t understand, but apparently Cam did. He leaned forward, everything about his demeanor sharpening. “You used the PI I gave you?”
Lexie’s head snapped towards him. “PI?” Her head whipped back around, just as hard, towards her sister. “Private investigator?”
Roxie held up her hands. “Let me start from the beginning.”
“Why would you need a private investigator?” Lexie pressed.
Roxie walked to the bar, but her ever-present swagger was subdued.
She grabbed her drink and threw back a bracing mouthful before setting the glass down on the countertop.
Hand shaking, she picked up the manila folder.
Instead of opening it, though, she hugged it to her chest. Turning, she leaned against the bar.
To someone who didn’t know her, it almost appeared as if she was using it to prop herself up.
She took a deep breath. “When we were arguing about going to the media, Cam told me there was a better way.”
Lexie gave a brisk nod. She remembered. Distinctly.
Roxie pushed her curly hair over her shoulder. “Well, he gave me the name of a detective, someone I could use instead of the tabloids and television news magazines to find out more about where we came from.”
Lexie shot a fierce look at Cam. “You did?”
He wrapped a hand around his mug of beer. “I told you I had resources, but I didn’t know if she’d use them. Hell, for all I knew, she was going to use the money to buy a new pullout sofa.” His eyes narrowed on Roxie. “Which you could use, by the way.”
She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “The point is, I hired the guy.”
Lexie shifted in her chair. She didn’t know if she liked the direction this conversation was taking. “I thought you wanted our story ‘out there’,” she said, using air quotes.
Underneath the table, Cam settled a hand over her knee.
“I wanted information.” Roxie shrugged. “I didn’t care how I got it.”
Information.
Lexie’s gaze snapped down to the file half-hidden in her sister’s arms, and her pulse jumped. Roxie hadn’t sold them out. She wasn’t going around on talk shows or writing a tell-all book.
She was looking into their forgotten background.
Lexie came to her feet, pushing back the wooden chair with a screech. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She felt like she’d been saying that a lot lately. She looked at Cam. “Did you know?”
He shook his head and watched Roxie thoughtfully.
Roxie’s foot rocked back on its heel but slowly lowered.
“It was something I wanted to do on my own, and you were going through your own issues. This twin thing has been a lot for both of us to adjust to.” She looked down at the file and drummed her fingers against it.
“Although this is going to take a little more adjusting.” She stood up straight and nodded at Cam.
“Your guy was good. He found something.”
Lexie was ready to rip the folder out of her twin’s hand. “Our parents?” she asked. “Did you find out why they gave us up?”
Roxie shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway.”
She finally pushed away from the bar. Maybe it was the flip-flops, but her steps didn’t look as self-confident as they did when she wore her stiletto boots. She stopped at the table and carefully placed the folder atop it.
Lexie stood so close, their shoulders and hips seemed glued. The tension was thick. She could barely stand it. “What did he find?”
“Not what. Who.” Roxie turned her head, and they stared at each other’s identical faces. “I don’t think we’re twins, Lex.”
Lexie flinched as if she’d been slapped. Of course they were twins. There was no doubt about it. The DNA test results said so. They looked the same, they sounded the same, they—
Roxie opened the folder. Lexie glanced down, and her breath stopped completely.
Cam leaned over the table. “I’ll be damned.”
Roxie’s fingers shook as she traced the outline of a picture—a picture of another pretty, dark-haired woman.
Lexie stared so hard, she forgot to blink.
She tried to read the words underneath the photograph, but her gaze kept jumping back up to the woman’s face.
It was too much to take in. Her brain couldn’t assimilate what she was seeing.
“Underhill said they didn’t want a passel of kids,” Roxie mused. “Two kids isn’t a passel.”
And Julian had said they couldn’t take all of them…not both. That son of a bitch. He’d held back again. “I’ll kill him,” Lexie whispered.
“I’ll kiss him,” Roxie said, one-upping her.
Things began clicking into place, and Lexie finally understood. More than understood, she felt it all the way to her bones. It was true. The final missing piece.
She grabbed her bourbon and drank. When she slammed the glass back onto the table, the words at the bottom of the picture became clear.
“Maxine Miller,” she read. “Goes by the nickname Maxie. Oh my God, Roxie.”
“We’re not twins, hon.” Roxie caught her hand and held tight. “There’s another one of us out there. We’re two of a set of identical triplets.”