Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“When was the last time you ate?” I asked as I sat back down across from him. Tate merely shook his head. “Eat, Tate,” I said. “There will be plenty left for Matty.”
Tate’s eyes lifted to meet mine but he didn’t answer. He looked over his shoulder at the large pizza box sitting on the stove. I hadn’t missed the fact that most of the spoiled food in the fridge was geared towards a child’s taste. It explained a lot about the man across from me…his lean frame, his lack of funds, Matty’s nicely decorated room.
A strange sense of satisfaction went through me when Tate finally took a bite of the pizza, but I tried not to examine too closely why it mattered so much that he’d done as I’d asked. And I definitely tried not to focus on his intriguing, mismatched eyes. Sharp, bright blue and warm, soft hazel…I couldn’t help but think they matched the two sides of his personality I’d seen so far. I wondered what they would look like when he smiled, laughed, felt pleasure…
Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me?
I forced myself to remain silent until Tate finished the food and pushed the plate away. He took a couple more drinks of water and then sat stiffly in his chair, his eyes settling on me. His gaze briefly skimmed my entire body and a shot of lust flashed through me.
Jesus Christ, there was no way this was happening to me. There was no fucking way I was attracted to this man…any man. It just wasn’t possible. Only my dick was telling me it definitely was possible and I had to lean forward so I could use the table to hide my unexpected reaction to Tate’s perusal. It had to be the fucking stress, the anticipation of what was to come.
“What’s wrong with Matty?” I asked.
My question had a profound reaction. The pain shooting through Tate was clear and tears instantly pooled in his eyes as he hunched in on himself. He angrily wiped at his face with his shirt sleeve – he had taken his jacket off at some point – and sucked in several deep breaths as he covered his eyes with his hand.
“Leukemia,” he whispered so low that I barely heard him.
A chill went through my entire body and I couldn’t help but cover my mouth with my hand as I tried to stem the lump of emotion that threatened to close off my throat. I’d expected some kind of serious condition but nothing like that.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I sat back in my chair. “Is it…is it treatable?” I heard myself ask, my voice sounding shaky.
Tate nodded. “The doctor said we caught it early. He needs multiple chemo treatments over the next six months. They did a bone marrow test today to see if he’ll need a stem cell transplant…that’s assuming they would be able to find a match.”
“What about you?” I managed to ask.
“They’ll test me if he needs one, but usually a full sibling has the best chance of being a match.”
“And you’re only his half-brother,” I said quietly.
Tate lifted his eyes to meet mine. “He’s Buck’s?” he asked in a rush.
“You didn’t know?” I asked. “The DNA test-”
Tate shook his head. “I asked the lab to confirm he was related to me, but I couldn’t afford the tests that would have shown if he was my brother or my nephew.”
“You didn’t know if he was related to you?”
“No,” he murmured as he wiped at his face and reached for the glass of water with a trembling hand. “I…I came home one day and he was just there. I asked Denny whose kid he was, but Denny told me to mind my own business. After I took him, I started to wonder if maybe they’d kidnapped him or something…I kept thinking about how worried his parents would be.” Tate took a long drink.
“Why did you take him?” I asked.
But Tate just shook his head slightly and dropped his eyes. I got the message.
“Buck and Denny, they…they liked to share women so I knew it was possible that either one of them could be the father.”
My gut clenched at Tate’s words as an image of Revay’s battered body went through my head. The hospital staff had only found one usable DNA sample when they’d done the rape kit, but I had no doubt she’d been brutalized by both men. Tate’s statement was confirmation of that fact.
“So you don’t know who his mother is?” I managed to ask.
“No, Buck had a lot of girlfriends…so did Denny.”
“How old would Denny have been when Matty was born?”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Tate admitted. “I don’t know Matty’s exact age...if he really is five, Denny would have been around twenty-five when Matty was born.