Page 36 of Wreckage of Us
“It has recently come to light that Franklin Knight, also known in the club as Bricks,” he explains even though I already knew his nickname there from the articles I found online, “is not Wyatt’s biological father.”
My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Oh.”
“Yep,” Dylan agrees.
“Who is his father?” Curiosity gets the better of me.
Dylan starts laughing. “Devereaux,” he finally manages to let out.
“Who’s that?” I’m pretty sure I don’t know anyone by that name.
“Jon Stewart,” Dylan clarifies.
“Jon Stewart?” I repeat in confusion, still not understanding. And then it clicks. “Oh my god,” my voice comes out a lot louder than I meant it. “Emily’s father is Wyatt’s father too?”
“Seems so,” Dylan confirms.
Mind blown.
“That makes he and Emily siblings,” I start connecting dots out loud. “So that makes you and Emily… What are you?” I ask when I can’t figure that part out.
“Nothing as far as I can tell,” Dylan shrugs like it’s nothing, but I can tell it somehow bothers him that all these people are now somehow related in one way or another. Everyone but him.
“You have Ethan,” I remind him in a soft voice.
I have to say that watching Dylan with his son melted my heart in ways I didn’t think was possible. I never imagined that Dylan could be so gentle and soft spoken, so patient with another human being. But he so is with Ethan. And that gives me hope that he will want to be in my baby’s life when the time comes. Definitely not in mine, I am done with that, although, he will be by association, I suppose.
“He is great, isn’t he?” Dylan gives me a weak smile.
“He really is,” I agree. “Is he…” I’m not even sure how I want to ask this, but I need to know. “Is he going to come live with you at some point?”
“Would it bother you if I said yes?” Dylan watches me with apprehension.
“What?” I burst from my seat, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “Why would it bother me? He is your son!”
“Some people would be bothered,” he shrugs but doesn’t meet my eyes.
“Yeah, well, I’m not some people,” I deadpan. “Also, it is none of my business what you do or don’t do with your son. You made it clear,” I remind us both. “So there’s that.” I look at the ground, hands on my waist, feeling like I need to cry.
All of a sudden, I see Dylan’s large boots in my line of vision. He brings his hands up and tangles his fingers in my hair, forcing my head to go back so he can see my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his lips so close to mine.
“What are you sorry for?” I whisper back, tears gathering in the corner of my eyes, annoying the shit out of me.
“I’m sorry for all the hurtful things I said to you since we met,” he tells me, taking the wind out of my sails. “I’m sorry for being the biggest asshole the world has ever seen,” he continues. “But most of all, I am sorry for making you cry.” He rubs his thumbs over the corners of my eyes, making the sob in my chest wanting to erupt like a volcano. “Seeing you cry over me is like a knife to my heart…”
“I’m not crying over you,” I hiccup out loud. “I will never cry over you,” I promise him. “Never again.”
I make promises I know I cannot keep, especially since I am crying as I say that to him.
“Becca…”
“No,” I pull my head back from his hold. “You need to go. I have no idea why you thought you could be here, but I need you to go. I don’t want you to stay.” Another sob erupts from my chest, and I press a hand over my heart, willing it to slow down.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bex,” he tells me in a soft but firm voice. “You need to get that through your head.”
“Look,” I try to recompose myself. “I have no idea what my brother told you.” I’m gonna need to slap Colton and all his good intentions. “But everything is fine…”
