Page 140 of Unexpected Heroine

I take it without hesitating, desperate for the comfort of his touch. Desperate to hold on to him.

To what we have.

Before the truth yanks me away.

His hand squeezes mine, and I let the warmth of his skin soothe me, grounding me to him. For however long it lasts.

Voice like velvet, he holds my eyes and says, “Sugar, what I’m about to tell you will change everything. Except for one thing.”

My heart stops, seizing painfully in my chest. “What’s the one thing?”

Give me something I can cling to. Something to pull me out of whatever quicksand I’m sinking into.

Anything.

“Nothing will ever change how I feel about you.”

About this, I believe him.

I nod and lift my chin, silently imploring him to continue.

“I first learned of your existence about eight years ago.”

The bizarre way he said it overpowers the potential implications. “What?”

“Shh. Just listen.”

After a two-second pause that might as well have been two years, he continues. “When I left the Army to form Redleg with my boss, Big Al, I investigated his background. I needed to know about his enemies or anything in his past that could potentially cause trouble for him one day. It’s my way of protecting him and the company we were building. That’s all I was trying to do. I only wanted to protect him.” His voice breaks. “That’s when I found out about you.”

A quick memory of the man I saw through the window the other day flashes behind my eyes. Why on earth is he telling me about his boss?

Too stunned to speak, I sit quietly and wait to find out.

He pulses his fingers again, reminding me we’re connected. “Violet, Lettie... my sugar bear, I’ve wanted to tell you this for so fucking long. And to tell him.” He gulps in a wave of air, a choking sound emanating from his throat like it’s clogged. “Your father is alive.”

My hand slips out of his. I don’t know if I pulled away or he did.

I know he’s not talking about Papa. But my mouth hasn’t figured it out yet. “I was there when he died.”

Tomer shakes his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Not that one, Lettie baby.”

At some point, my body started rocking, gliding me back and forth soothingly.

He’s known about me for eight years.

He found out about me when he was researching his boss.

And my father is alive.

Which means . . .

“Your boss is my biological father?”

“Yes. His name is Alan Lancaster.”

The muscles of my face twitch and roll as I work to hold off tears. A foolish attempt.

“Does he know?” I quaver. “About me?”

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