Page 82 of Same One
They’d had music playing on a portable speaker, and he turned it off and narrowed his eyes at the car that crested the hill into the clearing.
Tru froze. She knew that car. She knew that blue mustang with the white racing stripes. She recognized the sound of the engine now that it was closer.
Chills of dread rippled up her forearms, and she took a step back. “What is he doing here?”
Bay stood slowly, his eyes locked on the advancing car that was making its way toward them. “I don’t know.”
“Zane?” Tabian guessed. His voice didn’t even sound like him. It was all grit and gravel.
Bay glanced at Tabian and backed up to stand next to him as the car came to a stop in front of them. The lights turned off and the engine cut and out stepped the man she had grown to hate the most.
He looked like himself, just a few pounds lighter maybe, and his beard was longer. His eyes were bright gold, like Bay’s.
“It took me a minute to find you,” Zane said in a growly voice.
His eyes dashed to Tru, and instinctively she wrapped her arms protectively across the swell of her stomach.
“You look good, Tru.”
“Don’t talk to her,” Bay growled. He and Tabian were already moving closer to her.
“I figured you would be sore with me, boy,” Zane said in a chipper voice. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Been doing some growing.”
“Lie,” Tabian and Bay both said in unison.
Tabian narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
“I came to pick my boy up.”
“Yourboy?” Tru gritted out, rage slowly simmering up her spine.
“I’m not your boy,” Bay said. “I don’t even know you.” The coldness in his voice chilled the clearing.
“Well, you can say whatever you want, but I’m your father, and I’m ready to take you on. I’ve got a new Pack now and they’re ready to meet you.”
“What do you really want?” Tabian asked suspiciously.
“I told you—”
“Enough!” Tabian yelled, his voice echoing through the clearing. “You can see him. He doesn’t want anything to do with you. It’s written on his face. When was the last time you sent him a message?”
“Well—”
“When?” Tabian barked. “I’m asking simple questions. I don’t want fucking excuses, give me short answers. When?”
Zane looked pissed. He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Well, I don’t know the exact date.”
“March twelfth,” Bay said blandly. “Marissa’s last text was May sixth. Two years ago.”
“Don’t call her Marissa. She’s your mom. You call her mom.”
“No,that’sMom,” he said, pointing to Tru. He pointed to Tabian. “Dad.” He pointed to Tru’s belly. “Baby brother.” His face ticked into a snarl. “You don’t want me back. Not really. You are here for a reason, so spill it and stop wasting our time.”
Zane inhaled deeply. His nostrils flared with the movement. “I’ve been told about your little outdoor channel. People say it’s doing well. People say it makes a lot of money.”
“And?” Tabian snarled.
“And maybe for a little…relief…I would be willing to let Bay stay here.”
