Tension is so thick you could slice it with a knife. I cling harder to Saint, because I sense a whirlwind is coming.
“What are you saying?” Bryant asks, his gaze dancing between his brother and Saint.
“Sinner didn’t murder your sister because she knew too much,” Howie admits.
My eyes lift to Galen’s, and I see the moment it registers with him too.
Holy fuck.
Howie turns to Saint. “Sinner knocked my sister up when she was just nineteen. She was so sweet, so pure, until she met that bastard,” he hisses.
My heart is lodged in my throat as I look at Saint’s shell-shocked expression. I can tell he’s connected the dots too. “He ruined her. Abused her. Beat her. Forced her to take drugs even when she was pregnant. Now that I know about his history with Giana, it makes sense. He knocked Jess up on purpose after he found out Giana was expecting Harlow. It was some sick retaliation. I knew Sinner was dangerous the first time I met him, and after I checked him out, I was even more worried. I begged Jess to leave him, but she refused. She loved him up until the end, when he told her point-blank he never loved her, that Giana was the only woman he would ever love.”
I hold Saint tight, and his body trembles as anger rolls off him in waves. Tears prick my eyes, and I want Howie to be wrong about this, but my gut says he’s telling us the truth.
“What happened?” Theo asks. “What did Sinner do?”
Howie eyeballs Saint. “Jess realized what a monster he was, and she planned to run away with her baby. I helped her to get a new ID, and she fled to Texas a couple of weeks before she was due to give birth. I helped her get settled in the little two-bedroom house she found, but I had enlisted by then, and I was gone a few days later.” He swipes at the tears pooling in his eyes. “I should never have left her alone. She wouldn’t let me call our mom because Mom was still grieving our dad plus she was pregnant with Bryant.”
Bry is as white as a ghost, and it’s obvious this is the first time he’s hearing this.
Howie maintains focus on Saint. “Sinner found her, and he refused to let her leave until she’d had the baby. Jess gave birth to you in that house, and he took you from her the second you were born.” Tears stream down his face, and I’m fighting to keep my emotions in check. “She never even got to hold you. That bastard listened to her scream and cry and plead for you.” Murderous rage washes over his features. “He killed her right there and then,” he sobs. “Burned her body, and buried what was left of her in the backyard.”
Saint’s left eye ticks repeatedly, and I rub my hands all over him, trying to get warmth into his cold bones.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Bry demands with his chest heaving.
“Because I thought it was too late to save Saint, and I knew if you realized who he was that you’d try. I assumed Saint was his father’s son. The stories I’d heard about him seemed to confirm it. I believed that the part of him that shared DNA with us was too deeply buried.” Howie wipes his tears away, standing.
“How could you leave him with Sinner knowing that?” I cry out.
“I couldn’t do anything for him from overseas, and my mother was too fragile. Then she killed herself. She was heartbroken when Jess died. I couldn’t tell her she’d been murdered, and she never knew she had a grandson, because I lied. I told her Jess and the baby died in a car accident. I also knew if Sinner murdered my sister because she tried to take his son away from him that there was nothing I could do to rescue him.”
He hangs his head, and I want to pummel his cowardly body until he’s not breathing.
I cup Saint’s face, forcing his eyes to mine, but he stares vacantly at me, shielding his emotions, because it’s his usual go-to coping mechanism. My eyes seek Galen’s, and he wears the same concerned mask as me. This might tip Saint over the edge, and I don’t know if any of us can stop him from wreaking havoc.
“How do you know about the birth?” Bry asks. “What else aren’t you saying?”
Howie worries his lower lip between his teeth. “I didn’t know exactly what had happened for a long time. It was only after I’d retired from the military and came back to the area that I sought vengeance. I used my contacts and the tools at my disposal as a DEA agent to dig into Sinner’s background. That’s how I found Alisha Lennox.”
Oh hell to the no.
Galen freezes, and Saint digs his fingers into my hips, but it’s the only outward sign of emotion.
“Alisha was there?” Caz asks what we’re afraid to.
Howie nods. “She told me Sinner forced her to be there. She was pregnant, and he threatened her baby if she didn’t help with the delivery. He blackmailed her into keeping silent about it after, but it tore at her conscience. She wouldn’t talk to me at first, because she was scared, but I followed her one night to a party, and I got her to admit it when she was high.”
Galen buries his face in his hands, and my heart is rupturing behind my rib cage. My guys are in a world of pain, and we need to get out of here. We need to be alone to process all this. How many times will the sins of our parents continue to hurt us?
“This is a lot to take in,” I say. “And I know we have other stuff to discuss,” I tell Howie, “but it has to wait. We need to go.” It’s an effort to keep my tone civil when I want to rip that sniveling bastard limb from limb, but I do it for Saint and for Galen, because they need me to be strong right now.
I climb off Saint, taking his hand and pulling him upright. He hasn’t said one word. Hasn’t made eye contact with anyone, and I’m scared for him. I get that he never knew his mother and he came to terms with her loss long ago, but this has still got to hurt. Sinner lied to him, and now he’s discovered his father is the reason he grew up without his mom. Without love in his life. Saint already despises Sinner, and this will only compound it. He’s a boiling pot of rage waiting to explode, and I’m fearful for what he might do.
“I’m sorry,” Howie says, but it’s a little too late for apologies. “By the time I found Bryant and I got my act together, I had heard enough about you to know it was too late. I thought you were just like him. I was wrong. I should’ve reached out, tried—”
“Shut your fucking face,” Saint spits, whipping his hand from mine. He prods Howie in the chest, pushing him back. “I don’t want your apologies or your pity or your help.” His furious eyes swing in Bry’s direction. “That goes for you too. Stay away from me. Both of you!”
I’m not surprised he’s lashing out or that his natural reaction is to push them away. Bry isn’t at fault. He was in the dark too. But Howie left Saint with a monster. He didn’t fight for his nephew, choosing to believe the worst of him instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt. And Saint has survived without them this long, I’m guessing he figures he doesn’t need them in his life.
If I was Saint, I’d be furious, hurt, and disappointed too.
Saint pushes past me, heading for the door.
“Cousin.” Galen reaches for Saint, but he slaps his hand away.
“Don’t!” Saint hisses. “I want to be alone.” He yanks the door open and storms outside.