Under the Lights (The Field Party #2) - Abbi Glines Page 0,47

my veins.” I spat the words out as if they tasted as bad as they made my stomach turn.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Lawton blood runs just as strong in your veins as it does in your brother’s. Now. GO!”

Rhett’s hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me toward the door. “Come on,” he demanded, and I went with him. Not because I was obeying him. I was just confused. What the fuck did she mean I was a Lawton?

All. Of. It.

CHAPTER 29

WILLA

I opened the fridge and pulled out the plate of food Nonna had left for me. Grilled fish with steamed broccoli and a baked potato placed on one of her yellow flower dishes all wrapped up. I’d gotten home close to five after my long walk. That kind of physical exercise made me hungry. I was ready to eat all of this and a piece of pie.

The sound of a car pulling up outside stopped me from warming up my food. Setting it down on the counter, I went to the back door to see who was here. I had a feeling it was Gunner, but I wanted to see to be sure.

I was right.

Jerk.

I walked back to my food and unwrapped it, then placed it in the microwave. Just as the food began turning slowly inside on the glass platter, a knock sounded on the door. I debated ignoring him. He was coming to apologize. I expected him to. But I didn’t have to forgive him.

When the ding of the microwave alerting me the food was heated went off, I reached in and got it out, then went to set it on the table. Another knock sounded. He wasn’t giving up. I turned around and was going to give him an annoyed glare but paused when I saw the look in his eyes. He was upset. His eyes were bloodshot as if he’d been crying.

That got my attention. My annoyance was quickly replaced with concern as I hurried over to the door to open it and check on him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not waiting on him to give me a reason why he was upset.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice hoarse from emotion.

I stepped back and motioned him inside.

“What’s wrong?” I repeated.

He rubbed his face with both hands and inhaled deeply before looking at me.

“I know who my dad is,” he said with such angst in his tone it almost didn’t sound like him.

Oh. This wasn’t what I had been expecting. At least someone wasn’t dead. Although the answer to this might be just as bad. It sure looked like it was. Asking him who didn’t seem appropriate. So I waited quietly.

He took a few moments to stare off down my hallway as if he was still in shock. I wondered if he was even going to be able to tell me. This was bad. Hugging him didn’t seem like the right thing to do either.

After what seemed like an eternity he turned his gaze to me. “I’m a Lawton after all,” he said.

So his dad was his dad. Was that such a terrible thing?

“You aren’t happy about that?” I asked.

He let out an empty laugh. “I’m a Lawton, but the man in that house is still not my father.”

Now I was confused. Completely. Questioning him seemed like a bad idea, so I just waited again for him to decide how and what he was going to tell me.

“This is so fucked up.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair with a look in his eyes that bordered on disbelief and anger.

Who the heck was his father? The suspense wasn’t outweighing my concern for him, but I still wanted to know. He had me more than curious.

“I hardly knew him. There’s pictures of me with him, and I could tell in the photos that he loved me. But I understand my father’s hate for him now. The way my grandmother talks about him as if he were the devil. They hated him as much as they despise me.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking. That was insensitive. Unable to not do anything, I closed the distance between us and slipped my hand over his in a silent show of support. He turned his hand over and squeezed mine as if I were his only hope on a sinking ship.

“My grandfather wasn’t my grandfather. Jeremiah Gunner Lawton was my biological father.” He paused, then looked at me while his words rang in my