chest and I look at her curiously. “No. You’re probably going to want to be all ears for what I have to say.”
I’ve never been one for drama and the way this chick is shifting from foot to foot tells me she’s not here to deliver good news, but she’s got my curiosity piqued and I decide getting my ass chewed out one more time by my coach won’t be the worst thing in the world.
“You have my complete attention. Shoot.”
Clearing her throat, she rummages in her bag for something. Pulling out a folded piece of paper, her eyes meet mine.
“This is really hard for me to say, so please bear with me.”
She’s killing me. I wish she’d just tell me who the hell she is.
“My name is Megan Jones. Have you ever heard of me before?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, doesn’t ring any bells.”
She scratches the side of her head, her eyes giving me an uncomfortable stare. “I didn’t think it would. I’m not sure how to tell you this –”
“Honestly at this point you need to just say it. You’re kind of freaking me out.”
She nods and her eyes meet mine. “I’m your sister. We’re siblings. Well, technically half siblings.”
“What?” I want to laugh. I have three sisters and this girl is not one of them, doesn’t look anything like them either.
Panic washes over her face. “I know I sound crazy, but we have the same dad. I can prove it to you if you don’t believe me.”
My. Fucking. Dad.
This chick doesn’t need to prove a damn thing to me. Now that she’s pointed it out, the resemblance is all over her face. In her lips, the shape of her eyes, the pointed chin, the dark olive color of her skin.
I stand there taking in all her features, not saying a word. Megan begins to shift from foot to foot and then she looks to her toes and whispers. “This was a bad idea.” Looking back up she says, “I’m sorry I bothered you. I just . . . I needed someone to talk to. My mom died a few months ago and I felt I needed to reach out and . . .”
Shaking myself out of my shocked stance, I smile and pull her into my arms. “Megan Jones. I have three other sisters and I’ve always wanted a fourth. Come in and tell me how you knew about me, yet I know nothing about you.”
She relaxes in my arms and follows me inside.
I get her some coffee and she tells me her life’s story. I stay completely quiet until she’s done, only verifying a few facts here and there.
“So you’ve known about me and my dad your entire life?”
“My mom never kept it a secret who my dad was, but he didn’t want us. When my mom told him she was pregnant, he called her a gold digger. Said it was impossible for him to have children and wouldn’t talk to her again.”
I knew my father had made sure he couldn’t father any more children. He’d always told me that I was enough for him, but clearly, he had his timing wrong as the proof of his offspring is sitting in my living room.
“I don’t want him to know I exist. He can’t know anything about me.”
Slightly confused, I ask, “Why not?”
Her body stiffens and her eyes fill with hate. “He didn’t want me then, I don’t want him taking me in out of pity now. Please promise me you won’t tell him.”
The intense look she’s giving me is slightly scary. “Okay. I promise I won’t tell him.”
“Ever.” She repeats.
I laugh at her childlike need for me to promise this. Placing my hand over my heart, I look her in the eyes. “I promise Megan Jones, I will never my tell father that you existed. You will be my little secret.”
She smiles and her body relaxes in relief.
“I’m glad you found me Megan.”
We spend the next month getting to know each other. She only lives an hour away in Ventura, working as a server in a restaurant. While I had the luxury of living off my dad’s money, Megan and her mom have always struggled. I can’t help but feel slightly guilty that we have led such drastically different lives.
“Can you pick me up from work tonight?” Megan’s soft voice asks over the phone.
“Sure, what time?”
“Two.”
“In the morning?”
She laughs. “Yes, that’s the time the restaurant closes.” Feeling a sense of protection, I agree to meet her