Chapter 84
I felt like I had been hit in the chest. All of my air went whooshing out of me and I struggled to get it back in. There's no way that he had just said that. There's no way that this man could actually be my father.
"I know it must come as a shock to you, but I swear on your mother's grave that I am telling you the truth," he said and I could tell that he really believed it. He really believed that he was my father.
"My father's dead. He died when I was little," I told him automatically, having had to say it my entire life. The familiarity of the phrase helped me calm down. I reminded myself that I was talking to a crazy person. My father was dead. Plain and simple.
"That's what they told you. But I am very much alive. And I'm here to help you reach your full potential," he said and moved toward me. I threw myself back, but there was nowhere to go. I hit the wall behind me with a thud, the stones digging into my back.
Hurt filled his eyes, but he didn't stop. He reached out and gently cupped my cheek, giving me a sad smile. "Gods, you look exactly like your mother. So beautiful. Except you have my eyes."
No. It had to be just a coincidence. Plenty of people had the same colored eyes. I would not accept the fact that this man could be my father. My real father was six feet under, rotting as he should be.
Sighing, he dropped his hand and stepped back, giving me some much needed space. "I can see that you're going to need more proof than just my word. It's why I've prepared this."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a dark red liquid. My face paled. That couldn't be what I thought it was, could it?
"Here's my blood. When you leave here, take it to the hospital. Test it against yours. You'll see."
He held the vial out to me and I almost didn't take it. I didn't want to touch it. I didn't want to be anywhere near it. But he was giving me an out. If I took this vial, I could get out of this room. That thought alone had me reaching out for it.
The vial was cool. I'd half expected it to be warm, but he'd obviously been carrying it around for a while. I stuffed it into the pocket of my hoodie. I had every intention of throwing it away once I was out of here.
"Now that we have the unpleasantries out of the way, is there anything you want to ask me? I'm an open book!" he exclaimed, holding out his arms like he was a ringmaster at a circus. I just stared at him. His moods were giving me whiplash.
"I -" I started, but never got to finish. The hidden door swung open with a crash and there stood Jack in the doorway. His eyes were wild, panic and anger battling for dominance.
"Get the fuck away from my sister!" Jack yelled and aimed a gun at the man's head. The man didn't even bother turning around to face him. He just put his arms up over his head and got down on his knees.
"Go on, Celeste. You're free."
I glanced between him and my brother. If I ran past him, would he grab me? I took my time, inching my way around him, never taking my eyes off of him. If he was going to make a move, I wanted to be ready.
When I was close enough, Jack pulled me to him with his free hand, gun still trained on his target. Jack took a second to look me over, anger finally winning as he noticed my bruise.
"You shouldn't have touched her. Tell your Crescent pals to fuck off or I will hunt every single one of them down. Do you hear me?" Jack warned and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did Jack know who this was? Who were his Crescent pals? Was this some gang related thing I didn't know about?
The man actually laughed before standing up slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves in case Jack got trigger happy.
"Is that who you think I am, boy? A Crescent wolf?"
Jack bristled, hand squeezing the gun so hard I thought he might accidentally pull the trigger. Obviously Crescent wolf meant something to him. I glanced at the papers on the wall that had the word "werewolf" on it. Surely not.
The man finally turned around and Jack went so still that I wouldn't have known he was there if I hadn't been right next to him.
"Hello, Jack."
Jack took in a stuttering breath and pushed me through the door. "We're leaving. Now." And I was shepherded away from my kidnapper before I could ask Jack about his weird reaction.
Jack was silent on the drive home. We weren't all that far away. Maybe twenty minutes. I tried so many times to start a conversation, but he would just shut me down, telling me we could talk at home.
When we got there, he stomped inside, claiming that he needed to take a shower. I didn't even get a chance to protest. He disappeared into his room before I could even open my mouth.
Seething, I went into my bedroom and threw myself onto my bed. The silence surrounded me like a thick blanket and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, tears burned behind my eyes.
Now that I was safe and in my own room, I allowed myself to cry and feel all the emotions I had pushed away in favor of anger. The fear, the loneliness, the hopelessness. I let my body process it as I sobbed into my pillow.
The tears were finally drying out when Jack came into my room. He didn't bother knocking, as per usual, but his voice was oddly gentle.
"How are you holding up, Celeste?"
I picked my head up and glared at him for the audacity. Instead of rising to the bait, he chuckled instead.
"I guess I deserve that. Look, I'm sorry that I wasn't there. I thought Matt was taking you home," he apologized and I stared at him in shock. I had expected him to lay into me, not say sorry.
Jack huffed. "Don't look at me like that. I can admit when something was my fault. Although you really should have waited for me," he said and there it was. I knew he wouldn't fully take the blame.
"How do you know him?" I asked point blank before I lost my nerve. It was obvious that they knew each other. Anyone could see that and I swear if Jack tries to lie about it, I was going to strangle him.
Jack sighed, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "He's just a crazy idiot that I've had run-ins with on campus. He's become obsessed with our family. I don't know why."
"Okay…why did you think he was a croissant? And what kind of name for a gang is that?" I asked and was surprised when he burst out laughing. He gently ran a finger over my forehead.
"He must have really hit you hard. I said Crescent, not croissant. And because Matt and I might have some beef with them, but it's nothing for you to worry about. They aren't a gang, by the way. They're just a pretentious as fuck hockey team."
He answered the question without missing a beat. There was no hesitation, no pause to come up with a lie. Jack must be telling the truth.
I shifted, feeling the vial dig into my skin. I had almost forgotten it was there. I opened my mouth to tell Jack what the man had said about being our father, but something held me back.
I don't know why, but something in my gut said I should keep it a secret. So I kept my mouth shut and decided that I would do some investigation on my own. As soon as I could escape from Jack's constant vigilance.
