Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,87
makes our tones lighter than hers, but the family resemblance is still there.
“Of course not. I would never do that, Mea.”
A small bit of relief finds its way into my heart. “So then what did he do? That had to make him angry, right?”
“Well…” She hesitates. I look at her closely, because there’s always a tell when she’s trying to hide something. When her eyes shift off to the left, I sit up straighter. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“When he called, Mikah was at the house. He was helping your uncle paint the porch. They heard my shouts when your father got me all riled up, and they came rushing in.”
Dread settles heavily in my stomach. After I talked to Aunt Tay, I was planning on ordering her not to say anything about this to Mikah. He’s so protective of me, especially after what happened all those years ago. I never wanted him to find out that our father had called Aunt Tay.
“Once he discovered who I was speaking with, he grabbed the phone before I could hang up. I think your father baited him easily. Mikah yelled, and he listened. And then his face went pale and he hung up the phone.”
This isn’t good. This is so bad. This is beyond bad.
“What’d he say to Mikah, Aunt Tay?” I whisper, horror filling me. I don’t want Mikah anywhere near Carlos. Never again. He might be out of prison, but I just want the two of us to keep living our lives independently of that man. No matter what he tries to pull, we’re adults now. We don’t have to be reeled in by him. Not anymore.
Aunt Tay shrugs helplessly. “He wouldn’t say. He just said good-bye to your uncle and me, apologizing for not finishing up the paint job. And he left.”
Sliding my mug away from me, I bolt to my feet. Aunt Tay stands, too.
“Where are you going?” Her tone is alarmed. “Mea?”
“Thanks for telling me this, Aunt Tay. I need to go find Mikah before he does something stupid.” I reach across the table, hug her quickly. Then I rush out of the coffee shop.
Sitting in my car, I push Mikah’s name in my contacts. The phone rings, and then it goes to voice mail.
“Dammit!” I swipe my finger across the screen until I get to Drake’s name. Lifting the phone to my ear, I wait to hear his luscious caramel voice, my balm, come over the line.
Drake’s voice mail answers.
Close to tears, my fingers fly across the keys as I text him.
Please call me.
Placing the phone in the cup holder, I buckle my seat belt and head back to Drake’s house. When I pull in, I notice with relief that Greta’s still there.
Stubborn girl isn’t going to leave me alone until Drake knows about this baby. I smile, because I’m relieved that Greta’s here. I want to tell someone about what’s going on, and I don’t want to fly off the handle and make a bad decision. Especially not now.
But Mikah’s my baby brother. And if he’s in trouble, I will always go to him.
I fly through the front door. Greta is sitting at the bar in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. When she sees the look on my face, she hops down from the stool and approaches me.
“What’s wrong?” Her tone is full of fear. “Are you okay?”
I gesture toward the couch. “Please sit down. What I’m about to tell you requires you to be sitting. And maybe drinking something stronger than coffee.”
Her eyes wide, she glances at her mug, and then at me. “I’ll take my chances. You’re okay, though?”
“I’m okay right now.” I reassure her. “But a long time ago? I wasn’t.”
Greta sits on the couch, her feet tucked under her, both hands covering her mouth. All I can see is horror, shock, and revulsion in her wide blue eyes. That’s why I don’t tell this story. That’s why, for all these years, I’ve kept it locked up tight inside me. It took a lot out of me, you know? Keeping something like that bottled up? It changes you. It makes you dark, cursed.
When I finish, I look her straight in the eye. I don’t look down at my hands in shame. I don’t hide from my past. I don’t cower or hide.
Because what he did to me isn’t my fault. And the people who truly love me will still love me when they know about my past. They won’t hold