Chapter 118
Chapter 118
Everything blurred after that. My mother was the one who rushed her to the hospital. Dad wasn’t home, and neither was Finn.
By evening, Mom came back alone.
“She didn’t make it,” she said.
That night, Dad came to my room. He didn’t knock. Just walked in and closed the door behind him.
“After your graduation,” he said with tears in his eyes, “you’re going to leave. You’ll enlist. And I’ll pull every string I have to make sure they send you somewhere harsh. Somewhere that’ll chew you up and spit you out. Maybe then you’ll learn what it means to destroy someone.”
He paused.
“If you don’t agree to that right now, I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them what you did. And I won’t lift a finger to help you. No lawyer. Nothing. You’re on your own.”
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What was the point in defending myself when they’d already made up their minds? I didn’t want to be in the house anyway, because I’d kill Finn.
After that night, I was barely ever home. I stayed out until long past midnight, wandering nowhere, doing nothing. Picking fights. Stealing drinks. Getting high with the wrong crowd just to fill the hours. I’d come back reeking of sweat and smoke and sometimes blood, slipping in through the back door like a damn ghost.
My mother gave birth while I was gone. I wasn’t there. Didn’t even know she’d gone into labor until days later when I overheard a neighbor congratulate my father outside. I didn’t ask questions. Didn’t even want to know the baby’s name.
But I saw Finn.
Almost every night.
He’d curl up in the baby’s room like it was some kind of shrine. He lay on the floor every night with a pillow tucked under his head, just staring at the crib.
The baby didn’t make it.
Three months in, she passed.
Congenital heart defect. That’s what they said. Born with a hole in her heart that no surgery could fix in time.
I almost missed that, too. I remember walking past the living room one evening and seeing a nurse in uniform holding a tiny blanket. That’s how I found out. Finn, of course, didn’t take that well. He cried loud enough to shake the walls, screamed until his voice cracked, punched a hole in the hallway drywall.
I watched all of it happen like I was underwater. Faint sounds, blurry faces. My brain was too fried to process most of it.
I don’t remember much from that time–not clearly. I was high more than I was sober, counting down the days until graduation. Until I could finally get
the hell out.
And then I did.
Walked out after the ceremony, tossed the cap, and never looked back.
For almost two years after I joined the army, the only person who reached out was my mother.
Birthday messages.
A photo or two.
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Just enough to let me know I still had a name in that house.
Then came Finn with his stupid letters from college. Handwritten. Pretentious. Full of philosophical quotes and insights, like he was some kind of seg monk now. Asking me if I was still angry. Still hurt. Still holding onto a past that, in his words, “had no solid memory to stand on
I didn’t reply, but I couldn’t stop reading them either, especially the part where he described those ridiculous college mischief stories and his stalker psycho best friend.
I told myself I’d moved on after all these years. But I haven’t. Not really.
Which is why, standing before Finn’s door right now, I don’t knock. I pound on it.
It swings open seconds later, and I come face–to–face with my mother.
“Knox,” she says. “You came.”
NN
“Where’s that son of yours that was sent from the pit of hell to annoy
me?” I growl.
She frowns and steps forward, blocking my path. “Don’t bring that attitude in here. We want this to go as peacefully as possible.”
“We? Who’s we?” I lean in. “If anyone wants peace, tell your son to keep away from my girlfriend. If he so much as breathes near her again, I swear-
Her hand gestures behind her. “You should come inside, Knox. Come tell him yourself.”
I hesitate. But then I push myself onward, walking into the house.
Finn is pacing the living room like a prisoner waiting for execution.
And then I see her.
Sitting quietly on the edge of the couch.
A redhead.
She’s still as small–boned as ever. God, she really is alive. It feels like I’m staring into one of my nightmares.
She stands when she sees me. “Knox,” she says.
My chest tightens. I don’t know what I expected–more weight on her bones? A different voice? Something to confirm that this version of her doesn’t match the one I lost all those years ago?
“You’re alive,” I say, and my voice doesn’t sound like mine.
She opens her mouth to speak, but Finn interrupts.
“I’m sure you two will have time to catch up later,” he says. “What I want is for you to tell everyone that that’s not my child, Knox.”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
He looks between our mother and Lydia. “Mom and Lydia are trying to pin a kid on me. You’ve got to tell them it’s not true.”
“Is that why you called me here?”
“Yes.”
“You told Sloane you wanted to explain why you lied. That was just bait?”
“If I didn’t say that, you wouldn’t have come.”
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Chapter 118
I stare at him. He stares back, shameless.
“When I knock all your teeth out, Finn, you won’t be able to form another lying word from your fucking mouth.”
“Stop!” Lydia shouts, cutting me off mid–step. “You think I came here because I wanted to? I hate all of you, I’ve carried that hatred with me for years. I hate my mother the most for dying and leaving me with you all.”
“Lydia-” Mom begins.
She holds up a hand.
“I spent years recovering from what happened to me. I begged your mother to send me away. Begged her to get me out of that house. And now, after all this time, she pleaded with me to come help Finn. Said he needed support. Said she was scared. And I said yes because I’m stupid. Because i thought maybe after all this time, you’d changed.”
She goes closer to Finn.
“If I hear one more word about my son not being your child, Finn, I’m going to hit you over the head with a vase. Because it was your fault I got pregnant in the first place. I don’t care who the father is. You’re absolutely taking full responsibility for this child.”
Finn’s nostrils flare. “It’s not mine because it looks like me. Why don’t you pin it on Knox? You and he were all lovey–dovey back then anyway. We only had sex once. Besides, you think I didn’t see you sneaking out with Dad sometimes? What was that all about, huh?” Finn jabs a finger at her. “You’re going to take samples from all of them for a DNA test. I refuse to accept this accusation.”
“You’re an idiot,” she says flatly.
He actually blinks like he didn’t expect her to speak with that much steel in her voice.
“You thought I slept with Knox and your father?” Lydia shakes her head in disbelief. “Are you insane? Your father was my legal guardian. He wanted to act like a father should, but your mom wouldn’t let him do that around the house. That’s why he took me out to bond. To give me some damn peace.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Finn snaps. “Act as a father should? He wasn’t your father.”
“Legally, he was.”
“Biologically, you mean?” I cut in before either of them can hurl another accusation. Their stupid back and forth is making my ears ring. And why the hell is he saying they slept together like it was consensual sex when I literally heard her say she’d been molested? Why doesn’t she ever call it what it is? Am I missing something?
Lydia turns to me, confusion lining her face. “Biologically?”
“I know you’re our father’s love child,” I say, eyes on her. “So can we all just stop with the bullshit terms like ‘legal guardian‘ and just stick to ‘father‘?”
There’s a beat of silence so thick you could sink in it.
“Now where the hell did you get an idea like that?” Mom asks.
“I saw you and Dad quarreling in the house years ago. About that woman who just died. You told him he couldn’t bring her daughter to the house.”
“Mom?” Finn’s voice is tight. “What’s he talking about?”
Mom sighs. It’s long, shaky, and tired. “Typical of kids to assume things,” she mutters. “I can’t even blame you for thinking that way. Your father and I had that quarrel because it wasn’t the first time he did that. He’s got a soft heart and is fond of bringing in strays. Always thinks he has to save everyone.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Lydia wasn’t even related to him. That woman–her mother–was just trying to take advantage of him. Just like when his sister ran away and left a baby with him. And he took the baby in. Raised him like his own.”
Something cold starts curling in my stomach.
“The funny thing about these strays,” Mom goes on, voice quieter now, “is that he always seemed to love them more than his own damn kid. I didn’t want
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him to distribute any more affection out, seeing as he was already doing too much with you.”
She gestures loosely toward me.
“I know how it all sounds now. And I’m… I’m so sorry. But…”
The room tilts as those words keep echoing in my ears. I try to make sense of them. But the more I do, the crazier they sound.
“Are you saying…” I begin, but the words break apart halfway.
“Yes.” She closes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby. Your father made me promise never to tell you. It’s the truth. You’re his sister’s kid.”
