Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) (32 page)

“You don’t have a choice.” I pushed on his chest until he got the hint. “Just because we’ve known each other forever doesn’t mean you can stick your nose in my business.”

“You will always be my business,” he said, inching closer still.

“I’m pregnant, Joe.” I winced because I hadn’t planned on telling him, but the sight of his gaping mouth indicated my words had the desired effect. “You need to go home. This
doesn’t
involve you.”

He was struck speechless, so I took the opportunity to slip from the lounge. When I reached Aidan’s room, I stalled in the doorway.

Logan stood next to the bed, and I watched as he handed Aidan a plastic bag with a cardboard cup inside. “Now will you tell me why you sent me after Dad’s trash?”

It was weird how time crawled when you wanted it to speed up. I was beginning to think hospitals had a way of slowing time so those dying would have longer to live. Longer to say goodbye. No matter the reason, three days shouldn’t feel like a decade.

But they did. Three long days waiting for the DNA ball to drop.

I turned on the restroom faucet and splashed my face with water, and my tired eyes stared at me from the mirror. The term “morning sickness” was an evil, misleading myth. I’d been vomiting so much Aidan’s mother had noticed, though I’d convinced her I had a stomach bug. I left the restroom and returned to Aidan’s room, finding it empty of visitors. Neither Hamilton nor Lila was in sight, and my mom and Joe had thankfully left already.

So had Logan. He’d taken the news of our possible relation in stride—unnervingly so. Aidan later told me Logan had become an expert at suppressing his emotions in order to cope with the empathy overload of others.

At one point I overheard him muttering about the grief in the place. He’d returned to Portland shortly after that. I couldn’t deny he intrigued me, and the fact that he was likely my brother made it more so. Logan knew what it was like to be different, and I’d never met anyone who could relate in such a way.

“You okay?” Aidan asked, snapping me back to the present.

“Define ‘okay.’” My eyes zeroed in on the large envelope in his hands; he clutched it as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Maybe it did.

“Is that . . .?”

“Yeah.” He scooted into a sitting position. “I’m scared to open it.”

I wanted to go to him. I wanted it so badly, but we’d been careful not to touch since we’d fallen asleep together the day he’d awakened after surgery.

He patted the spot beside him. “Come here. Let’s do this together.”

“Okay.” I settled next to him, and we both stared at the envelope. Inside contained the power to either grind the last pieces of my heart into dust . . . or meld them back together again. “Just do it.”

He inhaled quickly and then tore into the envelope. The next few seconds seemed longer than any span of time I’d ever held my breath through.

“What does it say?”

His jaw slackened, and my heart shattered all over again at the disbelief on his face. It wasn’t a joyous or even relieved expression.

“Aidan, just tell me.”

“He’s your father.”

The room spun, and for a few moments nothing registered. I wasn’t sure why I was so stunned—deep down I’d known. I finally found my voice and began to cry, and that’s when I noticed his hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

“Mackenzie!”

I raised my head. “God, this isn’t happening.”

“Listen to me. He’s your father, but he’s not mine.”

“What?” I blinked, expecting to wake up at any moment. No way had I heard him correctly.

“According to this, you and I aren’t related, and he’s not my father.”

His words burrowed into my consciousness, and with a cry of joy, I launched myself into his arms. The breath whooshed from him as we fell to the mattress. I could only imagine what this revelation meant to him, to us, but I was too selfish to think about it just then. “Oh God . . . oh God!” Tears bathed my face as I held onto him. “Tell me this is real.”

He cradled my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and then we were kissing. Our mouths fed off each other, devouring in unashamed abandon. We rolled, him with a groan of pain, and me with a whimper of desperation.

He broke away a few seconds later and dropped his forehead against mine. “I’ve never been so relieved in my life.”

I couldn’t fight the smile that spread across my face. “I can’t believe I’m free to love you.”

“I would’ve loved you anyway.” He closed his eyes, or I closed mine—maybe we both did—but the moment held us captive in a state of temporary reprieve; he wasn’t wounded and in pain, our mothers weren’t liars, and Judd wasn’t free. For the sixty seconds that we breathed each other in, I almost convinced myself it was true.

“I need to find my mother,” he said. My eyes flew open when he pulled away. He stood, his body swaying for a moment, and reached for the bag that contained a change of clothes.

I jumped to my feet. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.”

“Don’t you dare. Get back in bed.” This was not a new argument. He was the worst kind of patient. Just yesterday he’d tried to talk the doctor into releasing him early. I hated to think of what he’d do if he knew Judd was still out there somewhere. “You’re still recovering.”

His mouth flattened into a line, and his eyes lowered to my abdomen. “You actually talked about abortion. I wanted to protect her from his affairs, but I can’t keep quiet about this. She’s got some explaining to do.”

“I agree, but it can wait.”

“No, it can’t.” He reached behind his back to unsnap the hospital gown and tried to hide a wince.

“You’re so stubborn,” I said, stepping behind him to undo the snaps. I helped him dress so he wouldn’t hurt himself. He took off through the door, and for someone who’d been shot a few days ago, he didn’t have any problem storming down the hallway. I hurried to keep up with his long stride.

Lila couldn’t have gone far. She and Hamilton had checked into a hotel, but she spent every waking moment in the hospital. Last I’d heard she’d gone to get something to eat. He swung a door open, and we found the cafeteria empty save for his mother. It was late, and the dinner crowd had cleared out a while ago. Lila sat in the corner of the room, picking at a salad that looked as if it had come from one of the vending machines.

Aidan charged across the room and flung the DNA results on the table.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she rose to her feet, eyes wide. She glanced around, as if someone were about to strike. She wasn’t far from the truth, though I doubted she expected the strike to come from Aidan.

“You tell me, Mom.”

She blinked, clearly alarmed by his tone. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.” She gestured toward the papers. “What’s this?”

“A paternity test.”

That got her attention. She snatched up the results, and her gaze quickly roamed the text. After a few moments, she faced Aidan, still holding the papers in her shaking hands. “Why would you do this?”

“I wanted to protect you from this, but it turns out Dad isn’t the only one who’s untrustworthy.” Aidan leaned against the table before sinking into a chair. Perspiration dripped down the side of his temple, and his face had gone pale. “Dad had an affair with Mackenzie’s mother. She’s his daughter.”

Lila set the results down. “This has to be a mistake.” Her non-reaction stunned me.

“There’s no mistake.”

Her gaze swerved between Aidan and me. I wrung my hands, recalling my devastation upon hearing my mom’s bombshell. “Did you know?” I asked. “My mom told me on Thanksgiving.”

“I heard the rumors involving Will Beckmeyer, but this has to be a mistake.”

“We can’t afford mistakes.” I locked my eyes with hers. “I don’t have the stomach flu. I’m pregnant, and the baby is Aidan’s.”

“Wh-what?”

Aidan rose again, his full height towering over the table, and placed his palms flat against the surface. “The last three days have been hell. We thought we were related—even talked about abortion—all because no one can tell the damn truth around here!”

I flinched, glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of his anger.

“Aidan, you don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand. Who’s my father?”

“There are things you don’t know . . .” She clutched the back of her chair. “Things I never wanted you to know about your father.”

“Which one are we talking about, Mom?”

“I’m talking about Hamilton. Does he know about this?” She brought a shaking hand to her mouth, concealing the tremble of her lips, and I realized the difference between her reaction and my mom’s when confronted with the truth; whereas my mom had been riddled with guilt, Lila seemed terrified.

I grabbed Aidan’s arm before he went off on her again. “Lila, are you scared of Hamilton?”

Instead of answering, she picked up her purse. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

My mouth hung open as she scurried from the cafeteria. Aidan watched her go, and only after she’d disappeared from sight did he move. Without warning, his foot struck out and he kicked over a chair. “Dammit!”

I jumped but said nothing. I doubt he would have heard me anyway. He grabbed at his hair with both hands and stared through the empty doorway, as if he could will his mom to come back and give him answers.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, completely understanding how he felt. I slid my palms along his sides, keeping clear of his wound, and waited for him to come back to me.

Eventually, he dropped his arms and folded me inside them. “Things keep getting crazier, don’t they?” he said, burying his nose in my hair.

Afraid of hurting him, I inched back. “Tell me it gets better.”

“God, I hope so.” He laced our fingers and tugged me into the hall, and when we reached his room again, we found Hamilton pacing, cell phone to his ear.

“No! How many times do I need to tell you? He’s not the man you need to talk to—Stevens is.” He paused, noticed Aidan and me, and held up a finger. “I don’t care what you have to do. I want it done or you’re fired.” He ended the call and turned his attention on us. “Why are you dressed and running around the hospital like you weren’t shot three days ago? I know damn well the doctor didn’t release you yet.”

Aidan ignored the question and threw the test results at him. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” He grabbed the papers but didn’t look at them.

“That I’m not your son.”

Hamilton’s stature shrank, and I never would have thought it possible. He quickly scanned the papers. “Where did you get this? We’re still awaiting the results.”

Aidan gripped my hand tighter, and I wondered if he did it to keep from hitting his father. “You weren’t going to tell us, were you?”

Hamilton opened his mouth, but Aidan raised a hand. “You know what? Forget it.” He pulled me back into the hall, refusing to acknowledge Hamilton when he called after us.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Getting out of here.”

“You can’t leave yet.”

“Yes, I can. Anywhere’s gotta be less toxic than this place.”

Hadn’t I had the same sentiment a few days ago? I swallowed hard. We all knew how that turned out.

“Wait,” I said, yanking on his hand. If he was going to walk through those doors, then I couldn’t put off telling him about Judd any longer. “There’s something you need to know.” I chewed on my lip, dreading each word I was about to say. “Judd got away. He’s still out there somewhere.”

“What?” His fingers flexed around mine. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because of this right here. You need time to recover. We didn’t want you flipping out and trying to leave.”

“He killed Deb . . . he almost killed
you
. Damn right I’m flipping out.” He let go of my hand, and I ran to catch up with him.

“Aidan, let it go. Let the police deal with him.”

“Yeah, that worked well the first time.”

It took him a while to get ahold of his doctor, but he grudgingly agreed to release him. Aidan called for a taxi, and we waited in the lobby. Disquiet ate away at my nerves. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and I was hoping the cab wouldn’t show. Hoping Aidan would change his mind.

No such luck. A green sedan with a glowing “Watcher’s Taxi” sign on top pulled in front of the lobby’s entrance, and Aidan opened the back passenger door. He gestured for me to get inside and then slid in next to me.

“Where are we going?” I studied him closely, sensing an urgency in him that scared me.

He gave the cabbie his address. “We’re picking up my car, then I’m taking you to Logan’s.”

My eyes widened. “What do you mean you’re taking
me
?”

He wouldn’t look at me. “Just what it sounds like.”

“What are you gonna do, Aidan?” My voice rose, and I glanced at the driver to see his reaction to our conversation.

“I don’t know yet, but I want you safe until he’s found.”

“You’re not leaving me anywhere.”

“We’ll talk about this later.”

The cabbie pulled up to Aidan’s house, and we rushed up the staircase after he paid the fare. The skies opened again, drenching us before we entered the foyer. The door had barely swung shut when his cell rang.

He took one glance at the display and then answered with a clipped “Yeah?”

I rubbed my arms, chilled since the house was ice cold. Nothing but blackness greeted us beyond the windows.

Aidan did a walk-through of the kitchen and living room, pausing long enough to switch on the fireplace. “You had a chance to explain, Mom. Instead you took off.”

I followed him as he headed for the stairs. “I’m not at the hospital. I’m at home.” He sighed. “
Fine
.” He hung up in irritation. “My mother’s on her way. She says she needs to explain.”

A breath of relief escaped me. Maybe she could talk some sense into him.

“Go pack a few things,” he said, his shoes thumping down the stairs. “I’m gonna get my gun out of the safe.”

“No!” I catapulted the last step and rushed around him, blocking his path. “No guns.” I shook my head, hating how helpless I felt. How helpless he felt. I saw it in his eyes. “I almost lost you once. Let him go.” I rested my palm on my stomach. “We have one more to think about now. Our baby needs a father. Don’t do this. Please, Aidan.
Please
.”