The phone slid from Darius’ hand and hit the floor. He barely noticed. He stared at S.G. while her words seemed to bounce off a funhouse mirror. He must have misunderstood. Or she was making things up to keep him from calling Maya. But her wide eyes showed nothing but sincerity, and he’d never known S.G. to be deceptive.
Other than hiding out in his damn firehouse.
Since then, she’d been entirely honest.
Slowly, he swung toward the kid, Dylan. He hadn’t paid much attention to him when he’d been sitting in the truck. A wet boy in a hoodie, that was the sum total of his observations.
The boy was staring down at the floor, as if he wanted to sink right through it. Under the weight of Darius’ scrutiny, he slowly raised his head. And Darius saw in his eyes that it was true—or at least that he believed it to be true.
“Explain,” he ordered the boy, causing him to flinch.
“Darius, lighten up,” Kate said softly. She came next to him and touched his arm. “He came a long way. Seems he’s from Texas.”
He did a quick calculation. Gillian.
Holy fuck. It couldn’t be. Could it? She’d wanted to have a child—they both did. If she’d gotten pregnant, why hadn’t she told him?
“Is your mother—” He broke off because his voice was so hoarse he scared even himself.
“Gillian O’Connor,” muttered Dylan.
He stared at the boy, noting the ski-jump nose that was just like Gillian’s, and the rounded shape of his face—a male version of Gillian’s. No doubt in his mind; this was Gillian’s son. But was Dylan his son?
“Who’s the O’Connor?”
“O’Connor is my stepfather’s last name. Buck O’Connor.”
“O’Connor….” That rang a bell. The memory came swimming back. “Her boss. The owner of the restaurant chain she worked at.”
“Yeah. He’s a big shot, all right.” His bitter tone made Darius do a double take. “I knew he wasn’t my real father. He didn’t really bother to pretend after I was about six.”
Pretend. His alleged son had been raised by someone who hadn’t bothered to pretend he was a real father. Darius flexed his fists, ready to rip something apart with his bare hands. Like the cast-iron wood stove or the sheetrock in the walls. Something big. But nothing was as big as this.
“How do you know…” He cleared his throat, not quite sure how to ask the next question.
“That you’re my father? My mom told me when I was ten. She said she thought someone who owned a restaurant would be a better father because you were still in school. I guess they were having…” He shrugged, letting the sentence trail off.
An affair. He’d known about that part. He’d gotten over the cheating part of the story many years ago. Hiding his son, however…that went way, way beyond anything he could accept. “Where is she now? Why are you here?”
“Mom…” Dylan chewed at his lower lip, suddenly looking much younger than—wait, how old was he? He must be…Darius did the math. Fifteen? “Mom died six months ago.”
A murmur of shock and sympathy swept the little group. S.G. sat back on the couch and scooted closer to him. He caught a glimpse of Kate’s dark eyes shining with sympathy.
But Darius couldn’t feel anything, at least not yet. The hits were coming too fast, one after the other.
A son. Raised by someone else. And now Gillian was gone. Really gone, not just gone from his life.
A hole opened up in the pit of his stomach. “How?” he managed.
“Cancer. Cancer sucks,” he said fiercely. “I fucking hate it.”
With that one outburst, Darius got an inkling of what this kid had been going through. “I’m sorry. Gillian and I have been out of each other’s lives for a very long time, but I loved her. You’ve…uh, been through a lot.”
But Dylan hunched back into his shell, AKA his hoodie, and shrugged. “Everyone has their shit. Before she died she told me where to find you. I have all the paperwork and everything.”
Kate spoke up gently. “I take it you stayed with your stepfather after your mother died?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“Maybe.”
Okay then. Back to monosyllables. The boy looked so miserable, slouched on the couch, the weight of the world bearing down on him, that Darius couldn’t take it. He stepped to the couch and crouched before him so he could connect with him at eye level. “Listen. I promise you that I didn’t know you existed until just now. Gillian never told me. I never suspected. Never had