“When’s the last time you ate?” Dylan asks, looking her over with concern.
“I didn’t eat much. It’s been a little hard to eat. The girls bring me food but, well, I haven’t been in the mood to eat.”
“Well, you sure as fuck are eating now,” Dylan growls.
“Damn, he sounds just like you,” Esperanza says, chuckling knowing me better than she thought she did.
“You missed out on me twenty years ago, my beauty,” I inform her.
“Same here.” God, don’t I know it? I missed out on so much that I could have had with her.
Dylan looks at us strangely, so I answer, “We’ve only just met recently. I’ve been alone a long time, and no, I don’t have any children.”
“We met because my son is married to his former bartender and sister of the man that just left,” Esperanza says.
“The one he said you were like a father to?”
“Yes. I didn’t have any kids, so I looked after those around me. I hope you had a good life.”
He scoffs, and I know that there’s a fucking bad story behind those haunted eyes. I have so many questions, and yet the fear in my heart is that it’s all for nothing. What if it’s just a sick twist of fate and he’s not my nephew but one hell of a lookalike?
We call it a night and get some rest after making sure that they are secured and safe. I take Esperanza home to where I plan to stay for the rest of our days.
“Welcome home, Esperanza.”
Chapter Eight
Esperanza
We arrive at the bar early to set up for the day, but I know it’s because Liam can’t stand still after the news yesterday. We had sex all night long and yet he couldn’t sleep. I tried to get him to tell me about his sister-in-law, but he told me that he couldn’t say anything until he’d told Dylan first. I wanted to be mad, but in truth, Dylan had the right to know before anyone else after everything he’d been through if he truly had been abandoned.
Dylan comes down around eleven with Harley. I don’t know what their relationship is, but it’s clear that they have feelings for each other. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Just a juice please.”
“I need a drink,” Dylan says, rubbing his hand down his face. The man doesn’t look like he slept at all just like Liam.
Boss’s phone rings on the bar top, vibrating on the wooden surface. “I guess it’s the moment of truth.”
He pulls it off the counter and swipes to answer and then hits the speaker. “Go ahead, Doc. I’ve got you on speaker.”
“Okay. Good morning, Uncle Liam.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Boss ends the call.
Harley moves around handing a drink to Dylan while I sit there in awe as Boss gets the news at the bar where his nephew sits across from him, equally shocked. It was one thing when he came looking for Harley, who is an absolute doll, but this revelation is a whole big shocker.
Doc called Boss from the hospital with the results. There is no doubt that Boss is Dylan’s uncle. It’s not a surprise after seeing them side by side, but it’s still a lot to take in.
“I don’t know what to say to you. I can’t even begin to process this.” Boss stands and walks to the large front bar window. He seems frozen solid, except for the slight shake of his shoulders as he silently weeps. What happens next takes us all by surprise. Dylan stands and reaches out to his uncle and pulls him in for a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Dylan.”
“So am I. So am I.” Both men pull apart a moment later, but not before he asks, “Who is she?” Harley and I share a look between each other, feeling like we’re intruding, but we’ll wait for them to decide how they want us to support them.
“Give me a minute. I need to make a call.” Dylan nods.
He pulls out a cell phone I don’t recognize and then dials a number. “Hello.”
“This is Liam Rhoades. It’s been a long time. Don’t worry about how I got this number, just know I have a question for you, and I need an honest answer because I will get it one way or another and if I go the hard way, your life will be hell.” He paces. “Did the baby really die?” He runs his fingers through his hair and snarls, “You’re a fucking cunt. I hope you know that.”
He ends the call and then tosses the phone into a glass of water on the bar. Walking back up to Dylan, Liam whispers a name that I don’t catch. “I will handle her myself. I know her. God, I know that fucking bitch.”
“Dylan, can we forget about her for now?”
“I think you two need some time to talk and to spend time learning about each other,” I insist.