Page 4 of Wounded Dance
My panic rises. “I’ll tell you in the car,” I say. But I don’t get in. I can’t leave Denham and Blitz alone, even for a second. In fact, I need Blitz away from this situation, as fast as possible, before Denham can say anything more.
“Can we go now?” I ask him, my voice quavering.
If Denham says who he is, this is over. My life is over. I will tell Blitz that Denham is Gabriella’s father. I don’t care about that.
It’s the rest. Who he is tome. To my family.
But Blitz waits, looking back and forth between me and Denham.
I close my eyes to the wind, trying to stay calm, not to scream and run. This is it. This is where my past catches up to me.
“I’m leaving,” I say to Denham one last time. “Blitz, please, let’s drive away.”
This time, Blitz moves. He comes around to the driver’s side of the car and opens the door, his eyes still on Denham.
But Denham is determined to say something. And so he does. And the words are something I never thought I’d hear.
“Livia, I’m not your brother. I never was.”
Chapter 3
I clutch the top of Blitz’s car. The wind is fierce. Surely I didn’t hear that right.
“What?” Blitz says. “You’re her brother?”
Denham steps closer. “No, I said I’mnother brother. She thought I was. Hell,Ithought I was. I lived with her family. But I’m not part of it.”
I can’t look at him. My world is spinning, black spots in my vision.
He takes yet another step. He’s only a couple feet away now. My head is down because I can’t look anybody in the eye right now. His boots are scuffed and worn, a chain across the side. He still dresses with an attitude, now the same as then.
“Livia?” Blitz’s voice is laced with concern. He comes back around the car. “You lived with this guy?”
“Not here in San Antonio,” Denham says. “Back in Houston. I didn’t know she was here. I had no idea where she was until the show.”
Blitz’s arms come around me. His voice is gentle. “Hey, what’s getting you? Did this guy do something to you when you lived with him?”
I shake my head no, then yes, then no again. Blitz’s arms are like a tether to the world. I finally lift my face.
Denham’s arms are out again, like he’s begging. His eyes are soft. “I’m not your brother,” he says again. “After your father kicked me out, I went into foster care. I ran away, but they had already DNA-swabbed me to hand me over to some other guy they found. I never went back, so I didn’t see the results. I saw the papers a year ago, when Aunt Didi died. Your dad isn’t my dad. But I couldn’t find you to tell you. That we were okay. That it wasn’t anything horrible after all.”
Now I’m feeling faint. He has to stop. “Please take me home,” I say to Blitz. “Now.”
Blitz nods and steps between me and Denham, blocking his view of me as I sit on the seat. I’ve heard all I need to know. I just need to think. And I need to get away before the last piece of the story falls into place for both of them.
But this isn’t my scene. It’s Denham’s. And he is going to say what he wants.
“I always loved you, Livia,” Denham goes on. “And I never regretted what happened between us. I wanted you to be able to stop regretting it too.”
Blitz still stands by my open door. His face is lowered, but I can see him thinking. “Is this the guy?” he asks me. “The one who got you pregnant?”
My head snaps around to look at Denham.
His eyes get wide. “What?” Denham asks. “What is he saying?”
Blitz realizes the situation and tries to close the door.
But Denham steps forward and grabs it. “Livia? Did you get pregnant?”
