Page 83 of Midnight Torment

Jordan stumbled back as if someone had punched him, and pain exploded in my chest. He had mourned the loss of his father for nearly his entire life.

“Why?” I asked Dante. “Why did you not take him back?”

“Grief.” He shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. “I had already signed up for an undercover mission and everything was organised for a few weeks after the incident. Rose was gone, and Jordan far from my reach. I had nothing left to live for except vengeance. I took the job, always swearing I would find a way to snatch him back until I realised he didn’t even bear my name anymore.”

Jordan was silent, his expression telling me he was listening to someone else.

“What the fuck, Ash? When did you find out?” Jordan trailed his fingers through his hair. “You mean Lucas Black knew and didn’t tell me? Does every fucker know and is laughing at me behind my back?”

Nothing else mattered except Jordan was in pain. I went to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He stared down at me, his eyes filled with anguish and loathing.

“Ash saw it a few weeks ago in Lucas’ records in Rome. My entire life has been a lie.”

My hands cupped his face. “Not all of it, never us.”

“You honestly never knew?” Dante’s voice was filled with surprise, his expression confused.

“I finally went home when I was sixteen. Everything was still there except paperwork or photographs,” Jordan shouted. “Mum’s colourful dishes still sit in the utility room. That fucking hidey-hole is still in the library.”

I jumped when Jordan brought his gun up and emptied the magazine into the wall beside Dante. Jordan had never spiralled this far out of control before.

“You fucking asshole! What sort of man lets someone take his son and destroy his life with their lies?” Jordan shook his head, his expression filled with despair and disgust. “I fucking hate you.”

A door opened behind us, and Flynn aimed at the man who had been nice to me on the plane. He held his hands up as he joined us.

“I’ve known Dante a long time. He never talks about his past, but I do know he’s watched over you for years, neutralising any threat that came anywhere near you.” He met Dante’s tormented stare. “I know he has photographs of a woman and young boy, but he never said it was his wife and son.”

“You’re twenty-five years too late,” Jordan muttered, staggering back away from everyone.

“You need to calm down and we can discuss this rationally.” The guy grabbed Jordan’s shirt and I noticed his jaw tightening. Jordan’s right arm came up, his elbow coming down hard to bend the guy’s arm, his hand snaking under the arm attached to the hand still holding his shirt to grab his throat. His right leg swept behind the guy to bring him to the ground, his hand tightening on his neck.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jordan hissed. “No one gets to touch me.”

“Except me,” I finished, my hand finding his. “Jordan, you need to hear the truth, and then we can go home.”

“It’s too late, Meg. I’ve spent my life hating the men who killed my parents. I fought to become head of security so I could delve into their lives and find who did it.” He released a staggered breath, stepping away from the man on the floor. “I gave up everything because nothing mattered but vengeance.”

I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed his wrist. “Your mother deserves the truth.”

It was as simple as that. One woman gave her life to save her family. She fought to protect them, and evil took her anyway.

“You promised to avenge her death. To do that, you need to know the truth.”

Jordan’s head came up and he stared at Dante. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

The older man smiled wearily, his eyes gazing into the past. “The night it happened you were wearing your favourite dinosaur pyjamas. Rose had several pairs of them so she could wash them. We knew men were on their way and she woke you up and carried you to the library to hide. We never realised it was a hit squad sent by Horatio.”

“I—” Jordan kept shaking his head as if to try and clear it.

My grip on him tightened. “What did you used to call him?” I asked, since some details would only ever be known by family.

“I used to call him tiger as he was always impersonating Tony the Tiger from the Frosties ad on TV.”

Jordan’s legs gave way and he slid down the wall, his hands sliding over his head. I crouched on one side of him, and Flynn stood vigil on the other side.

“You, okay?” Flynn asked and I merely nodded. My bruises would heal, but only time would tell if Jordan was coming back from this disaster.

“You used to visit Cassandra and her sister. For years after you disappeared from my life, you still visited the rest of your family,” Jordan said in little more than a whisper.

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