Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Never let your man leave home horny or hungry. There will always be a whore out there offering him a sandwich.
—Sage to Gentry
Sage
I was sitting on the back porch with Dean as we tossed Neo some treats when he said, “Is Gentry my dad? I look just like him.”
I froze, unsure what to say.
“He didn’t deny being my dad a few days ago when I asked.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, then I said, “No. Gentry’s not your dad. He’s your uncle.”
Dean drew in an exaggerated breath. “Oh.”
“Your dad didn’t know about you,” I said, wondering if I should say more.
“My mommy said that my daddy was a dumbass and didn’t believe her when she said she was pregnant.”
I glared up at the porch rafters.
Man, was I in a pickle.
What did I say to that?
“Your mommy had them both confused,” I admitted. “I don’t know all the details. But your daddy? He’s on the way here now.”
There, that was short and sweet.
Maybe he wouldn’t ask more questions?
Neo started to creep closer, and we both froze.
He walked right up to my side, dropped down on the porch steps, and laid his head on my feet.
The muzzle dug into the bones of my foot, but I was so freakin’ happy I could forget about any pain I felt in that moment.
“What happened to him?” Dean asked curiously.
I reached down and ran my fingers along Neo’s head.
“Someone stole him,” I said softly. “And abused him.”
Dean leaned into my side. “My mommy and Brooke hurt me.”
I closed my eyes as my heart all but burst. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “They broke my arm.”
I surreptitiously turned my camera on and hit record, setting it down by Neo’s front paw face down.
I wrapped my arm around Dean. “What else did they do?”
So that was how I listened to the story of Brooke abusing Dean, and Nadine allowing it to happen.
Dean’s earliest childhood memory was of Brooke throwing him against the wall when he accidentally spilled some syrup on her favorite sweater.
Dean spoke for what felt like an hour as he told me everything he could remember.
Neo stayed for it all.
And that was how Gentry found us hours later.
Neo asleep on my foot. Dean asleep on my lap.
Me sitting there in between them crying my eyes out.
The next morning, at the crack of dawn, Black and Gentry listened to the recording in complete silence.
It was their fourth time listening, and they were taking copious amounts of notes.
I was sick to my stomach, forcing myself to sit there so I could answer any questions.
Black scrubbed at his eyes. “Montana has the death penalty.”
“They won’t kill two women for this,” Gentry growled.
There was a knock at the door, and Gentry froze.
We all knew who it was.
“Fuck,” Gentry whispered.
“I’ll get it.”
Gentry stood up as Black headed for the door.
The man who came into the kitchen looked exactly like his brother, only older. And stiffer.
He only stiffened even more when he saw Gentry standing there, alive and well.
His mouth dropped open and he froze.
“I’m alive,” Gentry said.
Van blinked.
“And you can’t tell a soul.”
Van blinked some more.
Before Van could say anything, and Gentry could do any explaining, Dean came into the room looking bright-eyed and bushy tailed.
He walked right up to me and leaned into my chest.
I smiled and hugged him tight. “Hey, buddy. There’s someone I think you should meet.”
Van’s eyes were laser-focused on the boy.
“Dean,” Gentry said. “I’d like you to meet your father. My brother, Van.”
Van didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Only stared.
Dean turned around and stared at his father with the same gray eyes as his own.
Then he smiled. “Hi.”
Van dropped down to one knee, creasing his perfectly starched uniform and said, “Hi.”