Page 177 of Composed
Carter clears his throat.
“Just hold that thought,” he says, straightening his shoulders as he pushes his chair back. “I have something I need to tell you.”
She swallows. “Okay.”
He tilts his head, scanning her face.
The air grows thick as deafening silence curls around us.
I hold my breath, my legs quaking under my fight to keep them still.
“See, the thing is,” Carter starts, his voice tight. “And don’t be angry at the others, it was my decision to keep them from you, not theirs.”
Hendrix’s grip tightens, the rings adorning her fingers clinking with mine.
“Almost seven years ago, something happened, something big, huge, mammoth really.”
Saint pinches the bridge of his nose as Axel grimaces.
Carter doesn’t ramble. Ever. He’s the most composed of us all, always.
I’ve never seen him this rattled. Unless you count the day Noah went into labour. Not sure we should, though—extenuating circumstances and all.
“I mean it wasn’t actually that big, you know. Guy meets a girl, bangs her in a festival toilet, all that fun stuff.” Carter's cheeks redden and he winces.
Hendrix blinks. “This is a great story, Carter, really. But I don’t get what your sex life has to do with me.”
“Well, the big stuff is what came after.” Carter chokes on a laugh. “Eight months after, to be exact."
I feel it as every inch of her locks in place. “What are you saying?”
“I have kids, Rix.” Carter exhales slowly. “Two of them.Twins.”
His words cut through the air like a knife, hanging heavy over the table.
Hendrix’s fingers turn to ice, tensing beneath mine. “Oh my God.”
“I should have told you earlier, I just didn’t know how to.”
“But you—“
The door creaks open.
Noah pokes her head around her frame. “Did the oaf spill the beans yet or what?”
Nobody answers her as Hendrix’s attention stays fixed on Carter.
She says nothing. I’m not even sure she’s actually seeing him. Her eyes are dull, her expression blank.
This isn’t close to the reaction I was expecting.
Not sure what I was, really. Anger at being kept in the dark all the time she’s been here, maybe. Sadness that she missed out on their lives. Betrayal that we all kept this great whopping secret from her.
But not whatever this is.
“Okay then,” Noah says, her brow dipping. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.”
Giggles wash over us when the door swings wide, the soft pitter patter of little footsteps echoing off the hardwood.
