2
Vivien
Islide behind the wheel as Dillon climbs into the passenger seat. My SUV has tinted windows, so we’re shielded from potential nosy bystanders. Cranking the AC to the max, I moisten my dry lips with my tongue before I turn to face him.
It’s still such a shock seeing him with darker hair and blue eyes, so much like Reeve. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Yet he’s uniquely Dillon too with that slight bump in his nose, the small scar over his eyebrow, his dimples, and the defining piercings and ink. He looks like my husbandandlike himself, and I can’t wrap my head around it.
A familiar smirk curves the corners of his lips. “Did you want to talk or just ogle me?”
Snapping out of my trance, I scowl at him. His arrogance clearly hasn’t faded with the passing of time. I’m trying to be mature about our situation. To not let my feelings toward him distract or derail me, but he makes it difficult. I’m so angry with him, and there’s a whole lot of hurt and pain mixed in with fear and anxiety and the sheer helplessness of the circumstances.
My priority is Reeve and Easton, and doing right by them is my sole focus. I can’t lose sight of that. “I need to tell Reeve, and it can’t wait ten days. I’m telling him everything tonight.” I cannot keep this from my husband any longer. Not without causing irreparable damage to our marriage. As much as I might want to wait for the results—in the hope they’ll confirm Reeve is Easton’s bio dad—I can’t lie to him for that long. Every day that passes tears another fragment off my heart.
All humor drains from Dillon’s face, and a muscle pops in his jaw. “No.”
“You don’t get to decide this.” I grip the wheel tighter, as tension bleeds into the air.
He barks out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do.”
“No, you don’t!” I hiss, letting anger get the best of me. “My husband deserves to know the truth, no matter how painful that might be for all of us.”
“Oh, Reevewillhear the truth.” He puts his face all up in mine. “But he’ll hear it from both of us when we have the results.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’ll agree to that. I don’t know why I even bother trying to reason with you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” I glare at him, while he swipes his finger along the screen on his phone. “Just go, Dillon. I have nothing more to say to you.” That’s not exactly true. There is something else playing on my mind I wanted to ask him about, but screw it. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with him right now.
“You will say nothing to Reeve, or I’ll post these photos online.” He shoves his cell in my face.
I gulp over the sudden lump in my throat as I scan the old photo. It’s from the first night we slept together. Just after the Trinity Ball. I’m topless, wearing only a flimsy lace thong and silver stilettos. I remember that night as vividly as if it was yesterday. That he’s attempting to use one of the most special nights of my life against me hurts so much. Anger comingles with sadness as I lift my head and stare at him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you twisting all the good memories I have of us? Of you?”
“Those memories are as fake as the man you call your husband.”
“You’re wrong. On both counts.”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “How can you be so gullible?!” He snaps his fingers in my face. “Wake the fuck up, Hollywood. Your husband has been lying to you for years, but you don’t give a damn.”
He made the same accusation a few days ago, and it’s the other thing I wanted to ask him. “What is it you think you know about my husband? Hmm? Last I checked, I was the one who grew up with Reeve. I’m the one who knows him inside and out. Not you!”
“He’s known the truth for years!” he roars, his nostrils flaring. “That charade he put on the other day was all an act. How can you not see him for who he truly is?”
“I know who Reeve is! I was there when he found out about you, and he’s not acting!”
“Why do you think Simon Lancaster looked me up at seventeen?”
My brow puckers in confusion. “We already discussed this. Simon was protecting his own ass.”
“Wrong.” Dillon removes his ball cap, dragging a hand through his hair as he sighs. “Reeve knew about me, Viv. He’s the one who sent Simon to buy my silence.”
I shake my head. “That is ridiculous! I would know if Reeve knew about you, and he didn’t! He was overjoyed when he discovered he had a twin, and he couldn’t wait to meet you. Those are not the actions of a man who knew.” I slap a hand over my chest. “Reeve would have traded a limb for a sibling growing up. He had such a lonely existence. If he knew you were out there somewhere, he would have looked for you.” I turn pleading eyes on him. “You don’t know him like I do. He would’ve moved heaven and earth to find you if he’d known.”
Dillon’s jaw flexes. “He knew, Viv. Reeve was the one who shunned me. He’s the one who believed I murdered our mother.”
“Oh my God.” I throw my hands in the air. “Can you just stop and listen to yourself right now? That makes no sense. Reeve was only a baby when his father made the decision to give you up for adoption. How the fuck was Reeve the one who shunned you?”
“I’m not denying Simon put those notions in Reeve’s head, but he went along with it! Simon told Reeve when he was twelve. He told him he would find me if Reeve wanted to reunite with his brother, and Reeve told him no.”
I rub my pounding temples. “That never happened. Simon lied. He said whatever he needed to say to keep you away, and boy, did he do a number on you.” I shake my head again as a veil of sadness shrouds me. “C’mon, Dil. You’ve got to hear how this sounds.”
“Your blind faith in him beggars belief.”