knew Max had fathered Kevin. She saw that he wanted Kevin to raise as his own, and he wanted me for a wife. Sally would never let that happen. That’s why she created that cache everybody’s after. She couldn’t bring herself to kill Max in cold blood, so she did the next best thing. She protected you and Kevin the only way she knew how. She gave her life to protect you, Paul.”
My God, I think. She’s finishing what she started with that hammer—
“Don’t let her poison you like this!” Max pleads, and for the first time I hear fear in his voice. “This is what women do. They turn us against each other. She’s poison, Paulie. Remember that video? She’s humped your best friend a hundred times in this house. Right in this kitchen.”
“Paul?” Jet says in a voice as soft as a prayer. “If I’ve committed a sin, it’s that I never told you he raped me. I was terrified of what would happen. I thought you might kill him and end up in prison. That would have killed Sally and destroyed the family. So I kept silent. But as horrible as what Max did was . . . I loved Kevin.” Jet’s face softens with undeniable love. “He’s my precious baby, no matter how he came to be. So I can’t look back and say I wish it never happened, no matter how bad it sounds. He’s our son, Paul. Max was nothing.” Her face hardens with implacable fury. “But he can’t let go of me. He’s obsessed. It’s Max who poisoned this family—Max who’s a threat to Kevin. I think that’s what drove me to Marshall in the end. I can’t live with your father’s sickness anymore. Not another day.”
Paul’s face is terrible to see in this moment, but he believes her. Jet looks back at Max with perfect serenity, knowing she has won.
What will he do? Max stands at the threshold of violence. Could he shoot Jet before Paul reacts? No. He’d shoot Paul first. He’d have to.
His gaze moves from Jet to Paul, to me, then back to Paul once more. Survival instinct burns like phosphorus behind his blue-gray eyes.
“Come here, Paul,” he says in a paternal tone. “I need to tell you something these two can’t hear.”
“Don’t, Paul!” I say sharply, surprising myself. “He can say anything he wants from right there.”
Max’s eyes cut to me for a furious instant.
“Something’s wrong,” I think aloud. “Get your weapon up.”
“Fucking drama queen,” Max mutters, his eyes finding Paul’s again. “I hoped I’d never have to tell you this. But they’ve left me no choice. You want the truth? All right, yes—Kevin’s my son. Anybody with eyes can look at that boy and see it. I never told you because I knew it would break your heart.”
Paul’s mouth is hanging open. “How do you know he’s yours?”
“I had a DNA test done when he was a baby. On a hair from that baseball cap I gave him. He’s mine, Paul, same as you are. Kevin’s your brother.”
“Half brother,” Jet corrects him. “You son of a bitch.”
Paul’s face has gone slack with horror.
“But,” Max goes on, “I never raped her. That part’s a goddamn lie. I never stole pussy off a woman in my life, and Jet’s no different.”
Every atom of Paul’s being resists this claim. “You’re telling me Jet slept with you because she wanted to? She had an affair with you?”
Max shrugs. “That’s not how it started. At first I was doing you a favor, strange as that may sound now. You and Jet, both.”
“A favor?” Paul just looks at him. “Tell me about this favor you did me.”
Max rakes his left hand over his stubbled chin. “It’s not complicated. Jet told me how much trouble y’all were having conceiving a child. She was worried you might kill yourself. I was too, I won’t lie. I know what war does to men. And your mother was a nervous wreck, worrying about you. Those were tough times in the Matheson house. Jet told me you wouldn’t get your plumbing checked by the medics and you didn’t want to adopt. Which I totally get, by the way. These days they wanna give you a Mexican baby or even a nigger. We figured the only way to pull you out of your tailspin was to give you a son. Your own son. A blood descendant. A reason to live. Best one there is. And we did.”