Page 50 of Traitorous Lies
It was so much easier to be angry with him when he wasn't standing before her, all strength and determination and sincerity, taking responsibility for his actions, and apologizing for them, and telling her he was going to protect her.
Whether she wanted him to or not was implied, even though he hadn't said those words out loud.
Hadn't needed to.
She heard them anyway.
And what did it say about her that a part of her absolutely wanted him to protect her?
Was she really that desperate to be loved that she would give a second chance to a man who had already shown her once before that he didn't really see her?
Yet that wasn't quite true.
Yes, he’d gone to France to meet up with her by “chance” at the Halloween gala, but back then, he hadn't known her. All he could know was the things the press said about her, and they never missed an opportunity to paint her as a silly, spoiled little rich girl. It wasn't like she could be angry with him for not being a mind reader.
It was that he hadn't told her the truth once he felt that connection. There had been plenty of time for him to. Even before they left the party, which she wouldn't have done had she known who he was, but she would have given him the DNA.
DNA.
She’d been putting off doing the swab and having it sent to the Prey lab they’d given her the address for.
Silly, but … once she did this, there would be no going back. What if they were right? After all, they seemed pretty sure of themselves. If it turned out that Jax’s stepsister was her half-sister, it would mean her dad had been lying to her practically her entire life.
According to Jax and his family, Cassandra was two years younger than her, which would mean that the time she was conceived was right before her mom walked out. Had her mom known about the pregnancy somehow, and left because her husband had been unfaithful?
That would certainly ease a little of the pain Monique had always felt about the abandonment. Although it wouldn't get rid of it entirely, after all, her mom had still left her behind even if she had reason to leave.
But a DNA test would only prove her dad had been a cheater, it didn't prove he was a rapist. While she’d had little to do with him, she just couldn’t picture the stuffy man in the suit she rarely saw raping a woman. Her dad was always so … bland. Quiet, withdrawn, never showing any emotion, joy, anger, or sadness, it was like they didn't exist for him. He’d never even cried when she’d been returned after being ransomed. Just patted her on the head once and then left her in the care of her grandparents like he always did.
She just couldn’t picture him having enough interest in anything at all to do something so vile.
A knock at her front door had her shoving up from the couch where she’d been curled up thinking and watching the flames dance in her open fireplace. Of course, the fire made her think of Jax, but in the end, she was thinking about him anyway, she hardly needed the reminder.
It was like he’d permanently taken up residence in her head, and she didn't know how to get rid of him.
Or if she wanted to.
Her anger and hurt said she did, but the rest of her … well, it wasn't so sure.
Since she’d clearly understood the whether or not she wanted him to part of Jax’s speech yesterday afternoon in the barn, she hadn't objected to him putting up the security cameras. Truth be told, they would make her feel safer, and it was probably something she should have done when she first bought the place and was setting up the rescue. Her last name was still a threat, and she had employees she didn'twant getting hurt because someone thought they could use her to make a quick buck.
Opening the door, expecting to find one of her employees come to check on her, or possibly even Jax, who she was pretty sure had slept in a car in her driveway last night, instead she was greeted by the sight of a woman.
A pretty young woman around her age.
With long, light brown hair hanging down her back, red and gold highlights glinting in the fall sunlight, and piercing green eyes, the woman stared silently at her.
It was her.
Cassandra.
And as she stared back at the woman, also in silence, she knew. The shape of her nose, the angle of her chin, and the small birthmark there. Those features combined with the unusual highlights of her hair, told her the same thing a DNA test was going to.
This woman was her father’s daughter.
“Y-you look l-like …” Monique stammered, a whirlwind of emotions raging inside her. “I look like my mom, but you take … you take after him.”
Cassandra gave a solemn nod. “May I come in?”
