I was wrong.
His firm body wasn’t just for show and football.
“He hit her,” Brock replied lowly.
“And he will pay for that,” Fynn said as he cranked the steering wheel to the right, maneuvering the car onto the main road. The silver piercing on his dark brow reflected off the headlights of cars passing by as he glanced at me from the rearview mirror. “No one hurts what’s ours.” Over six feet of swoon-worthy male, Fynn Dupree was the shyer member of the Elite. Cool and calm, until you pissed him off.
That seemed to be an Elite theme. They were all okay guys until someone made the mistake of flipping their asshole switch.
“I’m not yours,” I said hoarsely.
Brock’s hand splayed over the small of my back, keeping me on his lap. “You are, Firefly. The sooner you accept it, the safer you’ll be.”
The sharp stinging on my cheek said otherwise, but I figured now wasn’t the right time to point that out. To be fair, he had come to my rescue after I had gone behind his back with Grayson. I wanted to circle back to the whole triplet bomb.Later, I told myself.
I studied Grayson, seeing him for the first time in a different light. So what if we shared the same brown eyes or the same shade of hair? That didn’t automatically mean we shared DNA. A picture of Kenna came into my head. When he looked at me, did he see her?
Grayson exhaled, dropping his head back on the seat. “Fuck,” he breathed, rubbing his hands over his face.
A weird tingle wove through me as I stared at Grayson, dissecting every feature in his face. The resemblance shone to such an astonishing degree that I wondered how I hadn’t seen it before.
Triplets!
Holy! Shit!
How is this possible?
What does it mean? Am I adopted? Or were they adopted?
Question after question tumbled through my head.
How long had Grayson known?
How long had the Elite known?
Why hadn’t any of them told me?
Did Kenna know?
What the fuck!
It did explain why there had never been any kind of attraction between Grayson and me, no spark. I’d been certain Grayson hated me.
Now I finally had an inkling why.
He looked at me and saw his sister, which I sort of figured out already. How could he not when I looked so much like her? Did he believe that I knew about them? That I had somehow abandoned them? Because that was the only rational explanation my mind could come up with for this anger he had toward me. My parents had given Grayson and Kenna up for adoption but kept me. If that were true—ifbeing the big factor—then I couldn’t imagine how he felt, nor could I understand why my parents would do such a thing.
Okay, yes, Angie had me at a young age, but my father stuck around, he married her, provided for us. Had they not believed they could have done so for three babies?
Another gazillion questions ran rampant through my head.
Or… had Grayson’s parents given me up? Was I adopted? It might explain why Angie hated me so much, why we never got along. But why wouldn’t my parents have told me? Never once had they ever let on that I wasn’t theirs. I’d heard my birth story a million times over the years.
One thing was certain: I had to talk to Angie.
I had to uncover the truth. I deserved the truth.
Brock noticed where my attention diverted, reading my range of facial expressions. “Look, I’ll explain everything after we get out of here,” he whispered near my ear.