Dear God. I couldn’t breathe. “I was kidnapped?” This was way worse than being adopted. A part of me, from the moment I found out, had had an inkling Angie was responsible. But kidnapped? Why would she do that? How had she done it? And get away with it for so long? We lived in the same town.
Oh, God. My parents weren’t my parents.
I’d never felt more lost in my life as I did right now. This had to be a joke.
The vanilla and oak notes inside the bourbon turned sour on the back of my tongue. Too damn afraid that my mother had done exactly what Brock implied—stolen me from the Edwardses—I tossed back another shot. Knowing my mother, I was inclined to believe Brock had every right to be disgusted.
A bead of worry and sympathy for Grayson, Kenna, and their parents found its way into my heart. Had the Edwardses hidden their missing child from Grayson and Kenna? Trying to make sense of it all made my head ache more than it already was.
“From what we were able to gather, your mother—Angie,” he corrected. “She was also pregnant around the same time as Mrs. Edwards. The details of the switch aren’t clear. The three of you were born early like many triplets and spent time in NICU at the same time Angie’s baby was there, also born premature. Her little girl had health complications and the baby died. We can only conclude that she somehow switched that baby with you, allowing the Edwards’s to believe that one of their little girls didn’t make it.”
“So they don’t even know about me,” I whispered.
“No.”
I shook my head. “This can’t be true.”
Brock shoved a hand through his dark hair, exhaling. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. And I wish it wasn’t like this.”
“So your private detective found out what happened.”
He nodded. “A total fluke. As I said, it was not something we went searching for. The detective is a personal friend of our families. He was actually Grayson’s father, uh, your father’s,” he added, glancing at me. “…college roommate back in the day. He noticed the date you born and the hospital on your birth certificate. The same day and location that one of his close friends went through the best and worst days of his life. So for kicks and his own curiosity, Oliver ran a DNA test on you. None of us expected for it to come back as a match with Grayson’s.”
My finger traced over the rim of my empty shot glass as I stared at the few lingering drops of amber liquid gathered in the bottom. “Can I read the file?” I lifted my eyes, and our gazes crashed.
Brock’s brows drew together. “Do you think that is a good idea?”
“I need to know the truth.” And I couldn’t be sure I would get that from Angie. I could already hear her giving me a sob story about losing her baby, being alone, young, and scared. I’d heard it all before. I had a feeling today was the last day I’d ever consider her my mother or capable of being a decent person. “It’s one of those things I have to see for myself.”
“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “Don’t move.”
As if I had anywhere else to go. I waited until he cleared the kitchen before reaching for the bottle to fill up the small glass and tossing back another shot. He returned a few minutes later holding a familiar manila folder. Setting it down on the table, he pushed it toward me with his middle finger. As Brock took another long drink from the bottle, I opened the file. My fingers shook slightly.
Brock remained silent while I read the details of the hospital records for both Angie and Mrs. Edwards. My eyes hung up on the lab reports where it showed my DNA to be a damn close match to Grayson’s and Kenna’s. There was no question that we were related. For seventeen years I’d been living a lie. Angie had been living a lie.
Did my dad know?
He wasn’t really my father.
And that sudden knowledge stabbed me in the heart.
I had a hard time believing my father would have agreed to steal a baby. He was a decent man—a good man. That definitely would have been a topic thrown around during arguments. They aired all their dirty laundry when things got heated, which they had often. I grew up thinking the arguments I witnessed between my parents were totally normal.
OMG. I have a family.
Chapter Two
According to the birth records, Grayson was born first, and then Kenna. I was born last, twelve minutes after Kenna, making me the baby. “It’s true,” I whispered, slamming my… I lost count of the number of shots I’d taken, but the bourbon helped with the shock of it all. My heart squeezed in my chest; the pain of being deceived and lied to hurt more than any injury I’d sustained.
What would my life have been like if Angie’s baby had lived?
It was a question that would haunt me forever.
“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you.” Brock’s voice drifted across the table to me.
What started as a flutter of anger morphed into something bigger. “No, you just withheld information. You should have told me. I had a right to know.”
“This isn’t just about you. Grayson’s parents think you’re dead. We didn’t know if we could trust you.”