Page 39 of Shattered King

“Let me the hell go,” I shrieked.

He did, instantly. But those beautiful blue eyes stayed fixed on me, searching my expression. I don’t know what he saw, but it made him curse repeatedly.

The door opened and the nurse walked in. “The police want to speak with you, honey, but they’ve agreed to let you have some visitors first.”

I didn’t have a chance to reply before the door was pushed wider and Van walked in. His gaze landed on me, scanned me from head to toe, then swung to Hunter. The look he gave his brother was intense, communicating something I had no hope of understanding. Hunter’s big body stiffened in his seat a second before I spotted movement behind Van . . .

Sara walked in.

Her eyes were round with fear and worry. She had Josh cradled in her arms.

Oh God.

Hunter

My eyes swung from my brother, to the door, then to Sara walking in behind him.

She was carrying a little boy.

I looked back at Lulu, at the warmth, the softness transforming her eyes when she saw him, at the way her lower lip quivered as she attempted to smile, lifting her arms out to him.

The way she refused to look at me.

Van moved in beside me.

What the fuck was going on?

“Mama’s okay,” Lulu whispered. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay.”

Everything inside me seized, locked solid.

Mama?

I watched in stunned silence as Sara brought the child over to Lulu. Both women had tears running down their faces.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Sara said.

Lulu squeezed her hand. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

Sara kissed Lulu’s forehead and placed the boy carefully on her niece’s lap, his little legs surrounding Lulu’s waist. Lulu leaned in, burying her nose in his dark hair, breathing him in. “It’s okay, Josh,” she said softly. “It’s okay now.”

I started at the pair of them, my brain still struggling to comprehend what the fuck I was seeing, what this was. Then Van’s hand squeezed my shoulder. I turned to my brother. As soon as his eyes met mine, it hit me all at once, like a motherfucking hurricane, destroying everything in its path. Washing away everything, leaving only the truth.

Lulu had a son.

A son with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

A little boy that looked like me.

Josh wasn’t her son—he was our son.

My gut twisted. I had to lock my fucking knees so I didn’t go down.

I turned back to them, watching as Josh leaned back, lifting a chubby little hand to Lulu’s cheek. “Mommy. Owie.”

Lulu blinked rapidly. “Yeah, baby, Mommy has an owie.”

His little face brightened. “Kiss.” He leaned in and planted a wet kiss to his mother’s bruised cheek.