“I wanted to ask you,” he says from the bathroom before walking back out completely naked and unashamed.
My eyes rake over him, taking in all his piercings including the new one. I lick my lips, remembering the feel of the metal in the back of my throat, the combination of his taste and the metallic taste of his barbell.
“Eyes up here, baby.” He’s standing by the bed, and there’s humor in his voice rather than the usual strain that would accompany anything sexual. It’s so different from before.
My eyes slide up his rippled abs to his chest and sober when I study the three letters tattooed on his pec: Mom.
“So, as I was saying, I was thinking you might want to hit the gym with me a few times a week, put some muscles back on that fine ass body of yours.”
My gaze darts from his chest to his eyes. They’re shining with happiness and love, all the things I hoped I could bring to his life and finally have.
But there’s still one thing he doesn’t know.
“Well?” He snags his pants off the floor and pulls his phone from the pocket. With one knee on the bed, he climbs in next to me. “What do you think?”
I curl into his side and rest my cheek against his chest. “Oh, yeah, I think that’s smart.”
He chuckles, scrolling through his phone contact list. “Smart?”
“A good idea. I meant a good idea.”
He hits the button to call for Chinese food, and his fingers sift through my hair. “You sure you’re all right? You seem, I don’t know, preoccupied.”
Preoccupied? Or absolutely terrified?
The last time Rex and I had sex he found out the truth of his past and wanted nothing to do with me. And here I have to tell him the one thing I’ve been keeping from him that has the potential to ruin everything we’ve built over these last couple days.
While he orders enough Chinese take-out to feed thirty guys his size, I contemplate my options.
What if I tell him and he kicks me out again? I can’t bear to lose him, but keeping secrets got me in trouble before. He called me a liar and accused me of manipulating him. He compared me to my parents. My stomach lurches and I breathe through the urge to barf.
I have to tell him regardless of the fallout.
Rex has taught me that hiding from the truth, no matter how ugly, only prolongs the inevitable. Facing the fire head on, knowing it has the potential to burn and destroy, is always the best thing to do. The right thing to do.
And now that I have him back, I’ve vowed to always do right by him.
“Shit, Gia. You’re crying?” He shifts up on the bed, trying to look at my face.
I am? I wipe away the hot tears that wet his chest. “Ha.” I force out a laugh. “Guess so.”
“That’s it.” He pushes back so that he’s resting against the headboard. “What’s going on?”
I wrap up in the sheet and face him cross-legged. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from all this, it’s that I want to always be honest with you.”
His eyes narrow and the sting of possible rejection has me second guessing my vow.
“Honest about what?”
This is the right thing to do. I take a deep breath. He needs to know, and after this, I’ll never keep a secret from him again. If he’ll still have me.
“Rex, I’ve been trying to tell you something important, but every time I get the chance, it just doesn’t come out.”
His mouth forms a tight line, mimicking his eyes. He nods once. Firm and demanding.
“It’s about your biological father.” I study his expression and only see a slight response in the flare of his eyes. “I know who he is.”
He shakes his head. “Impossible. No one knows who he is. My mom didn’t even know. There was no name on my birth certificate.”
This is going to be harder than I thought. It’s as if he’s refusing to even entertain the idea of having a biological father to avoid the pain it might bring. Makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that he needs to know.
“When they took you from my house, I thought you were dead.” I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of the memory. “God, Rex. There was so much blood.”
He blinks rapidly, either pushing back the memory as well, or fighting off the emotion that comes with it.
“I was miserable, thinking I’d signed your death warrant. My parents thought you’d talk, but then . . . you didn’t. You were gone. No one believed me when I cried and screamed at the top of my lungs that you’d been abused. It was like it never happened.”
He rubs the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable, but then he looks at me. “Go on.”
“Then he showed up and pulled me from the dark closet I’d been locked up in.” Relief billows in my chest even now remembering his face, bright blond hair slicked back to reveal the blue-green eyes that were so clear they were ethereal. I thought he was an angel. “He took me in, fed me, and spoke so sweetly that I was convinced with him all the world would be made right.”
“I don’t understand.”
I chuckle at the irony. “I didn’t either. The day I was locked up in the institution, a raving little girl going on about bad men and my dead brother, he walked away from me and I realized then he was the incarnation of evil.” My body breaks out in a rush of goose bumps as I remember his evil grin as he stared down at me with the pride of an executioner. “Before he said goodbye, he leaned in and whispered the words I’ll never forget.”
The more you talk and scream, the crazier you sound.
“Wait, are you talking about . . .?” His biceps flex and a muscle in his jaw jumps. “What did he say?”
Keep it up, Georgia. You’ll never get out of here.
He used my love for Rex and my fight for justice against me. According to the police, Rex was a troubled foster child who tried to kill himself. He didn’t speak of what happened to him in the basement. Nothing I said was taken seriously.
Accused of being crazy eventually made me just that.
“Rex is alive.” I swallow the next words and say a quick prayer that when they come up again they don’t slaughter him. A single tear rolls slowly down my face. “And he’s my son.”
Twenty-nine
Love isn’t a two-way street.
It’s a one-way gate.
Rex
I’m in my bed, in the safety of my home, sitting naked with the only person in the world who knows everything about me and loves me anyway. And yet, I’m totally alone, secluded in the dark, tumbling down, and grasping for a sliver of sanity.
“That can’t be right.” It can’t be, right? I drop my head into my hands and scrub my eyes. “He lied. It’s not true.”
“Think about it, Rex. My parents worked for him. How do you think you ended up in our house?”
“But why? If I was his kid, why would he do that to me?” Thoughts of Raven penetrate my mind. She was his daughter and look what he did to her.
Dizziness socks me hard and I drop back to the bed. “Holy shit.”
“Your eyes. They’re blue, but they’re like no blue I’ve ever seen. And have you ever really looked at Raven? Noticed the similarities in your faces?”
“Holy shit.” No, I never had, but now that she mentions it . . . “Holy shit.”
What does all this mean? That I have a half-sister? One of my best friends is my brother-in-law? Heat pricks the backs of my eyes. I’m an uncle.
I never had a family. Growing up in foster care and then a group home, I didn’t have anyone I could really rely on until I started fighting for the UFL. The organization, my fighting camp, they’ve been the only family I’ve ever had.
And now she’s telling me I have a family.
I gaze up at Gia and study her, curled in on herself, eyes bloodshot, still so fragile and now scared.
It had to be hard to tell me that, after everything we’ve been through and how I treated her the last time she exposed my past. But she braved through it regardless of the consequences, and it looks as if she’s expecting me to lash out and attack.
“You’re scared.”
Her eyes lift to mine. “More than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
My chest cramps. She was locked up as a child, made to feel as if she were losing her mind, all because she fell in love with me. She’s the bravest woman I’ve ever met, but the thought of me pushing her away has her terrified. Fuck. I’m a stupid prick.
“I’m the son of Dominick Morretti.” The words are like gravel in my mouth.
“I believe you are.”
As horrible as that should be, and as many questions as the idea implies, it somehow feels like good news. What Gia gave me with her confession outweighs the ugly blood that runs through my veins.
She gave me her loyalty.
Her faith.
And I got a family.
But above all of those things, she gave me the ultimate sacrifice, risking our love for the sake of the truth.
“I love you, Georgia McIntyre.”
She squints through her tears and tilts her head. “You do?”
I grin. I can’t help it; she looks so damn worried and cute as hell. “I really do.”
She launches herself into my arms, and I wrap her up as tightly as I can. I bury my nose into her hair and breathe in deep, immersed in her soothing tropical scent.
Her body quakes with emotion. “I thought you’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you. Pushing you away was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m not the smartest man, but I learn from my mistakes. I’ll never let you walk away again.”
“Please, I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
"Fighting to Forget" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Fighting to Forget". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Fighting to Forget" друзьям в соцсетях.