Hunkering down beside him, I slowly raise my hand and smooth back the hair that's fallen over his eye. His head tilts to the side a smidge, but it's enough to wake him up. His eyes move around under his closed lids before they lazily flutter open and settle on me. I can tell the moment the sleep leaves him, as his eyes become clearer and laser-focused on my face.
He surprises me, though. Instead of greeting me, it seems like seeing me tore his walls completely down.
"I'm so fucking sorry." My mouth falls open, watching as tears build in his gorgeous, exotic eyes, before trailing down his cheeks. "The things I've done to you. The pain I've caused."
Emotion builds in my own eyes as I watch this strong, arrogant man break right in front of me. "Hunter, what's the matter?"
He settles back against the wall, his hands coming up to cover his face. His movement makes me back up a little, but I’m no less worried about what seems to be going on.
Through his hands, he says, "I was betrayed—" His eyes meet mine, so full of sorrow and pain, it makes my chest hurt. I rub it, subconsciously. "—but not by you."
Four Days Ago …
I watch Harloe walk away from me, with Maverick cuddled to her chest and looking back over her shoulder. He sees me watching them leave and gives me a big thumbs up while smiling.
That kid. No matter what life has going on around us, he can make me smile, forcing all my worries to drift away until they're nothing.
Which is the very reason I'm even terrified to look at the results of this test. Harloe says she is one hundred percent sure I am the father, and you know what ... I'm starting to believe her. But like I told her, it's hard for me to trust anyone because the people I was supposed to trust ended up betraying me.
Owen, for starters. We share blood, and he outright told me that he and Harloe were together. All without a fissure of guilt or regret in his voice. He just spits it out one night after I got home from her house like we were talking about the weather or something.
At first, I called bullshit. Our parents had taught us that family came first, no matter what. You fought for blood, you died for blood, and you lied for blood if it came down to it. They would always say the most toxic people in your life could also be connected to you by blood, but that our family, the Princes, knew how important family is before anything.
Such a toxic lie from the queen herself. And that night, I found out the hard way.
Watching Harloe walk away from me a second time nearly steals what little air I have left in my battered lungs. Her words, "we were over a long time ago," are left floating through the air like a cloud of doom, nearly unmanning me. I want to punch something. Rip it to shreds with my bare hands, just like my heart feels inside my chest. But none of that will change anything. I hurt Harloe terribly back in school, and the test in front of me ... has just as much weight to hurt me in return.
If I am Maverick's dad, then I've missed two years of his life. All the way from birth until a few weeks ago. I missed his first steps and words. I missed his first tooth coming in, and all the nightly diaper changes.
I missed being a dad to him during his most vulnerable time being in this world.
If I'm not Maverick's dad, then that knowledge will solidify she's been with Owen.
But ... I'm not sure I believe that anymore. Even with the evidence he has saved to his cloud.
Because ... why would he turn himself in if he knew what it would cause? Owen is not overly vindictive, even when he's in front of someone he loathes. He and Harloe never got along, and if they were in the room for more than five minutes, he'd get up and disappear to his room for the rest of the night.
I can't keep living like this.
Standing up, I make a rash decision. Instead of answering Owen's calls, which he tends to do every day, I'm going to pay him a visit. He doesn't live with Mom and Dad anymore, but his house isn't too far away from theirs, located on the same street.
I never started second-guessing him until Harloe came back. You know, because he was my brother.
But maybe I should have because he's my brother. I know him, just like he knows me.
Throwing some money down onto the table, I snatch up the envelope and race out of Mom and Pop’s. I run across campus, garnering the curious gazes of everyone making their way to and from classes. I was supposed to be in class with the guys today, but I can't bring myself to care. This is more important.
Digging into my pocket, I gather my keys and nearly rip my car door off its hinges as I jump inside. It takes me a few tries to stick my key in the ignition and get the car started, due to my hand shaking from adrenaline.
My phone starts ringing in my pocket, but I disregard it with only one thing in mind—finding Owen and finally getting an explanation.
Not allowing my anger to get the best of me, so I make rash decisions in regards to the people in my life.
Not allowing him to half-ass his way through what he and she did. I am going to get detailed accounts for it all. I'll know if he's lying to me because Owen is a terrible liar when he has to explain anything.
Spinning tires out of the GOU campus, I head to town. I mutter a thanks under my breath when the light stays green at the intersection, and race on through it. Everyone on the sidewalk, meandering through the local stores, stop and stare, but I couldn't care less. I disregard their honking horns and yelling at me to slow down and race my way toward Owen's.
By the time I get there, the sun is high in the sky and burning down my back. My car screeches on the pavement as I all but slam my foot on the brake, and drift into his driveway.
His road has two rock pillars on either side of his drive that leads to a roundabout in front of his two-story colonial. It's like a burnish eggshell, with dark green shutters along the doors—no porch around the front, and a carport that doubles as a lounging balcony outside his room.
Which is where he's sitting when I slam my breaks and come to a screeching halt. I watch as he jumps up from his chair, holding a beer in his hand, and looks down at me in confusion.
No shit, he's confused. I haven’t willingly spoken to him in three years, and here I am at his house. Gathering what little courage I have left, I grab the envelope and turn the car off and get out. I slam the door, stopping right beside the hood and continue to stare at him in tense silence.
Owen is the one to break first. "Never thought I'd see you here."
All I do in return is hold up the letter, knowing his curiosity will get the best of him. Sure enough, it does.
"That is?"
My rough, gritty voice seethes low in my throat. "A paternity test."
I must have taken him off guard because he jerks up straight and stares at me, clearly lost for words, mouth nearly hanging open.
"A paternity test? For whom?"
Walking around to the front of my car, I lean back against the grill as if I haven’t a care in the world. Really, on the inside, I'm thrashing around and fighting at the thought of even being here. Being near Owen is taking all of my restraint.
"Harloe." I cock a brow, waiting for something to register. When his facial expression never changes, I hedge further. "She had a son. Maverick. Did Duncan not tell you?"
He slowly shakes his head, too stunned to reply in words.