She shook her head. “If you think Zoey could ever satisfy you as much as I did, you’re delusional.”
“Yeah, uh huh. I’m the delusional one. Whatever.” I was so ready to be finished talking to her.
I turned away to find that my friends had already boxed up some of Zoey’s ruined things. They were carrying them from her room, which made my chest ease a little. I was so glad they were here to keep me from losing my temper, to keep me on track with my mission.
I took the box Asher handed me and turned down the hall, striding past a red-faced, sputtering Cora, who couldn’t seem to believe I was ignoring her.
Tucking the box under one arm, I reached for the front door and pulled it open, only to skid to a stop when I nearly barreled into a guy standing there with his hand raised to knock. In his mid to later forties, the sandy and gray-headed man was taller and slimmer, and he had green, green eyes…just like—
“Dude, is that Zoey’s dad?” Asher asked from directly behind me.
I blinked. He did look a lot like Zoey. The shape of his chin, color of his eyes, even the slope of his cheekbones.
What kind of providence was this? My blood was bubbling with the need to hurt, to maim, and here arrived the man who had tormented Zoey her entire life? It was destiny.
I glanced back at a wide-eyed Cora, who was hugging herself as if cold…or as if she knew all her lies were about to come back and bite her in the ass.
“Is he?” I asked.
But the visitor repeated, “Zoey?” as if in shock. He glanced around me until he spotted Cora. “Cora, what is he talking about?” His face immediately molted red with rage. “Oh God. Tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” I asked, utterly confused. Who was this guy?
But Cora was too busy staring at the man to answer me. “She volunteered!” she cried.
“How did she even know what was going on with you?” he boomed, stepping past me as if I wasn’t there blocking his way, so he could enter the apartment as if he owned it. “Did I not strictly forbid you to have any more contact with her after you graduated from high school, after I sent you out here to get you away from her?”
Cora shrugged, looking only slightly repentant. “Oops,” she said.
“Damn it, Cora. How could you disobey me like that? And don’t tell me you were just curious what she was like. You had three years to get to know her. I know the only reason you brought her here was because you knew she’d be a match as a donor, don’t even pretend it’s not. How could you? Your mother and I sent you here because it hosts the best renal treatment center in the county. I hired a nurse to help you. We even pulled strings to raise your name on the transplant list. Why did you have to go after Zoey and drag her into it? She’s already been through enough because of us.”
“Hey.” I stepped between the two of them to get their attention. “What’re you talking about?” I wasn’t the type to butt in on a conversation, but tonight was just not my night to act like my usual self. “What is he talking about, Cora? And who is he?”
The man blinked at me as if remembering I was there. Then he noticed Asher, Noel, and Ten with an irritated scowl. Turning back to me because I’d been the one to talk, he said, “I think the better question is who are you? I’m her father, and if I learn you’re the one who gave her that black eye, I assure you, you’ll live to regret it.”
“I didn’t...” Wait. Huh? Cora’s father? That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say at all, though now that he’d said it, it made sense for him to speak to her in that authoritative way. But he looked way more like Zoey than he did Cora.
“I’m Quinn Hamilton,” I said. I’d never met Cora’s father before, I’d never even spoken to him on the phone, but after dating Cora for as long as I had, I was sure he’d at least recognize my name.
He didn’t. Cora had never even bothered to tell her own father the name of the guy she was dating.
He turned toward Cora for an explanation, so I turned to her for the same thing.
She sneered, meeting my gaze. “Surprise. You fucked sisters.”
“What?” Mr. Wilder and I said at the same time. We glanced at each other, both of our gazes full of accusation. Then we turned right back to her for clarification.
“Didn’t Zoey tell you?” she asked me.
“Tell me what?” I growled, because there was nothing to tell. There couldn’t be. Because Zoey and Cora were not... They couldn’t be…sisters.
No. Just…no.
“Dude, sisters?” Ten whispered to Noel, sounding awed. “I’ve never even had sisters.”
Spinning to him, I yelled, “They’re not sisters!”
“Oh, yes, we are.” Cora’s smirk turned my stomach. “Half sisters anyway. Dear old Dad over there could never keep it in his pants. And when Zoey’s mom started prancing around him, in heat…well, you know what happens when you don’t use protection.”
“Cora,” her father warned, his voice low.
“What?” She glared at him before turning back to taunt me. “I’m surprised Zoey never told you, Quinn. She seems like the type who can’t keep a secret.”
“Dear God,” Mr. Wilder murmured, looking sick to his stomach as he backed toward the wall and leaned a hand against it. “She knows, then? How long has Zoey known?”
He asked Cora the question, but I was the one who answered. “She doesn’t know.” She couldn’t.
Spotting the couch nearby, I sank down and dropped the box of Zoey’s things on the floor by my feet. At least two people grabbed my shoulders for support as I buried my face into my hands.
But how the hell was this happening? Zoey and Cora were sisters?
When the front door opened, I didn’t have to look up to know who entered. I could sense her presence tingling my skin. And then her voice came to me, trapping that lovely sound in my ears. A sigh of thanksgiving eased from me, knowing she was close, while at the same moment, my muscles tensed with dread. She had no idea what she’d just walked in on, and there was no way to warn her, no way to soften the blow.
“Mr. Wilder?” she said, clearly surprised by his presence. “What’s going on?”
Just hearing her say his name in that way and in that tone told me everything I needed to know. I looked up at her, and I knew Cora had been lying yet again.
“She doesn’t know,” I said when her seeking gaze caught mine. “Someone needs to tell her.”
I knew I couldn’t. I closed my eyes, unable to look her in the eye without wanting to break down, or break something…or someone.
But I also wanted to yank her into my arms and carry her from this apartment, this place that was causing her so much misery. Then again, I was afraid to go near her, too. The violence in me was so close to the surface. What if I reminded her of her father—er, the man who’d raised her as her father—and scared her?
Cora tried to get out of telling her, so I growled, “Tell her.”
Mr. Wilder’s face paled with panic. He wasn’t ready for his indiscretions to be made known, but Cora was already sighing and muttering, “Nine months before you were born, my dad fucked your mom.”
Surprise reined on Zoey’s face, but I could tell she still didn’t get it. Blinking repeatedly, she shook her head. “Excuse me?”
But then Caroline, whom I hadn’t even known had come in with Zoey and was holding her hand, gasped. “Oh my God.”
Zoey glanced at her, confused. “What?”
Caroline pointed at Mr. Wilder. “Cora’s dad looks exactly like...you.”
Zoey turned back to look at Mr. Wilder, who backed up a space until he stumbled into a wall. Her face paled and she shook her head. “Wait. What?” She glanced around the room, but when her gaze landed on me, I balled my hand and brought my fist to my mouth. I hated that lost expression on her face.
I still wanted to go to her, but I wasn’t sure how she’d receive me. I’d broken up with her after she’d almost been raped. She had every right in the world to hate me ri
ght now. Plus a vision of Cora’s throat right before I’d almost tried to strangle her swept through me. I was too violent for Zoey. Too much like the man who’d raised her.
She shifted her focus away from me, flitting it between Cora and her father. “That’s...that’s not possible. My father is... My father’s Ernest K. Blakeland.”
Mr. Wilder glanced down, but Cora sniffed. “No. Ernest K. Blakeland was simply married to your cheating whore of a mother. He knew her baby wasn’t his, but he couldn’t pin his anger on your mom because she went and died giving birth to you, which left only you for him to take his anger out on.”
“No,” Zoey whispered, but I could tell from the horror on her face that she believed every word. She shook her head. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”
Cora threw her head back and laughed. “Tell you what? That our daddy was too chickenshit to claim you and risk losing all his money because his funds were tied up in Blakeland’s bank? He’d be destroyed if anyone found out he was your sperm donor. It didn’t even matter that I made sure he knew you were being beaten on a regular basis. He couldn’t risk losing his investments. Now...be honest. If I’d told you about him, and you saw how he was more concerned with saving himself than saving you, you never would’ve agreed to give me your kidney. Would you?”
Zoey clutched her stomach and sank closer to Caroline, who wrapped both arms around her in support. “But…but…why didn’t you ever tell me before that? Before you knew about your sickness?”
Cora shrugged. “It never served my purpose. I kind of liked you being blind to the truth.”
A half sob, half laugh left Zoey’s lungs. She glanced at her biological father, who shook his head and held true regret in his eyes. “Zoey,” he started, his voice full of apology.
But she held up a hand. “No, you don’t have to say anything. I understand perfectly. You’re just as egotistic and self-serving as she is. And you know what? I’m glad you never tried to claim me. I think I’d rather have been raised with manners beaten into me than raised to be like her.”
Cora sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I suppose this means you’re not going to give me that kidney now, are you?”
This gut-clenching, defeated expression crossed Zoey’s face. But despite the fact that each piece of news seemed to beat her down, she still straightened her back and lifted her chin. “Of course I’m going to give you one. I said I would. Unlike you, I’m actually honest about the things I say.”
Her gaze met mine. I nodded my encouragement, more proud of her than I’d ever been. I wasn’t sure if I could’ve been the bigger person in this moment and helped a person who’d wronged me as much as Cora had wronged us. But I loved her amazingly selfless heart, anyway.
Pain wrenched her face as she kept looking at me, though. She turned to Caroline. “I’m done here.” She started for the door, but something in the box Asher held caught her attention.
She stopped and began to reach for one of her tattered notebooks.
“Don’t—” I stepped toward her, but she’d already realized what the mess was. With a gasp, she curled her hand back to her chest. When tears filled her eyes, I couldn’t handle her pain. “Zoey.” I touched her shoulder, but she whirled away and rushed from the apartment with Caroline hot on her heels.
Feeling rejected, I panted out a breath before turning slowly toward the two Wilders who’d just destroyed my Zoey. Cora’s father managed to look contrite, but Cora lifted her chin, daring me to say something.
“If you ever talk to her or me again—”
“You won’t have to worry about that,” her father cut me off, his gaze narrowing on Cora. “As soon as the transplant’s complete, she’ll be coming back home…” Cora opened her mouth to object, but he kept talking over her, “…unless she wants me to cut off her monthly stipend.” When she gasped, he met her gaze. “Remember, Cora. You don’t have any control over your trust fund until you’re thirty.”
“You bastard.” Tears immediately filled her eyes. “Zoey was right. I think I’d rather have been raised by an abusive asshole too.” Huffing out her anger, she spun around and stomped back to her room, where she slammed her door.
Her father glanced at us remaining men. I glared back, and he cleared his throat. “Do you boys need help carrying any of those boxes?” he asked.
I don’t know how he did it, but Ten found out where Belcher was before the night was up. It was after two in the morning, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t getting any sleep until that bastard paid for what he’d done.
He’d left the after-party for the football players and was at a frat house. When we found him, he had his hand up some girl’s skirt. Ten had filled me in on a few more details on the way over, only enraging me more when he mentioned where he’d seen Belcher putting his hands on Zoey.
That hand he pulled out of the girl’s skirt when we barged into the room was the first thing I was going to break. The girl he was with now looked wasted but she was giggling, so at least he hadn’t been forcing this one to do anything. Which only made me angrier. Why had he tried to force Zoey, then?
“Hey again, Belchie.” Ten grinned cheerfully and waved a few fingers. “Guess what? I found that boyfriend you were looking for earlier. You remember Quinn Hamilton, right?”
Belcher’s eyes widened as I advanced toward him. He tried to crawl off the bed but got tangled in the sheets and fell over backwards onto the floor. I helped him up, by the hair.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know,” he sobbed, lifting his hands in surrender. “I swear to God, I didn’t know she was yours.”
“So that made you think you had free reign to kiss her while she tried to fight you off, free reign to hit her, to put your fucking hand down her pants?” I grabbed his wrist. “This hand?”
He screamed when I slammed his hand into the wall, then he screamed even louder when I slammed his head into it next. I remembered seeing the bruise on Zoey’s cheek at Cora’s apartment, so I made sure Belcher had more than a few on his cheeks. Ten had told me Zoey had racked him between the legs, but I didn’t think one hit to the junk was enough. Not nearly enough. So I kneed him there a few times before I planted my fist in his gut. Just when his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to crumble, I hit him one last time in the jaw.
But that didn’t satisfy me. I wanted to hit him more. I wanted to hurt him more. I stared down at his unconscious body I’d watched fall to my feet, and my knuckles cracked, thirsty for more blood, more crunching bone, more give of unwilling flesh.
Blood roaring through my system, I turned to Asher, Noel and Ten, who were simply standing back and watching the show with appreciation. “That wasn’t enough,” I growled.
Noel nodded his understanding.
They took me to the university athletics facility to work off some of my adrenaline rush and beat down some of my steam. I lifted weights, I ran laps, I took on a punching bag, but I was too fired up to stop, aching to hit something…someone.
For a while, Noel and Ten kept pace with me and worked out beside me without saying a word. Asher didn’t even bother to try. He camped out on the floor, pulled out his phone, and started to play some game that beeped a lot.
I was still going hard when Noel held up his hands, begging me to stop. He flopped down on the indoor track, collapsing onto his back, and panted hard. Ten was curled up on a pile of floor mats, fast asleep, but Asher was still playing away on his phone.
“Man, you gotta stop or you’re going to collapse.”
I wasn’t even close to collapsing. But I sat beside him anyway, wishing for…I don’t know what. I wanted to see Zoey. The only thing I knew could calm me right now would be to pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair. I need the smell of her hair, the warmth of her breath on my neck, the softness of her skin under my fingers.
But after what I’d done to Belcher and what I could’ve done to Cora, after knowing all that violence was still in me, yearning to g
et out, I was too afraid to go near her. What if I scared her? What if she thought I was just like Ernest K. Blakeland?
Besides, she had to hate me for walking away from her earlier? I was so ashamed; I didn’t even know how to start to apologize to her for that.
“Why can’t I stop wanting to hurt someone?” I didn’t mean to mutter aloud.
I think Noel was still panting too hard to have heard me, but Asher lifted his face.
He finally put his phone away and hopped to his feet, looking wide awake. Then he strolled over to sit with us. “Hamilton,” he said on a sigh, situating himself into a lazy sprawl. “You’re not your dad.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “What?”
He motioned to my bare torso where I’d taken off my shirt over an hour ago. “Your back. All those scars. You were beat a lot growing up, right? Well, my dad hit me too.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that, but I shook my head. “No. My mom did that. I never knew my dad.” My mom probably hadn’t even known who he was.
Asher merely waved an unconcerned hand. “Mom, dad, whatever. My point’s the same. You’re not her. We’re not them. Your mother’s violence is not inside you, and what you just went through tonight has nothing to do with her. You did all that shit to protect someone you love, to get justice for your girl, not because you’re an angry asshole who wants to strike out at the first person in your path.”
Fear sprouted in my stomach. “But what if Zoey thinks I’m like that? Her dad hit her too. What if she hears what I did and thinks I’m like him?”
Asher shook his head. “She won’t. Trust me. To Zoey, you hang the moon. She loves you, man.”
I shuddered and about lost it. “I want to see her,” I admitted. I had been telling myself to stay away. Every awful thing that had happened to her was become of me. But I couldn’t help it. I had to see her. “I know I shouldn’t. She probably hates me, but I just...I gotta see her.”
Noel nodded and clasped my back as he groaned and crawled to his feel. “I’ll take you.”
Asher ended up taking off then, but Ten and Noel came with me to Noel’s house. We found Zoey curled up on Caroline’s bed with her head in Caroline’s lap, while a drowsy Caroline sat up against the headboard and stroked Zoey’s long, blonde strands. I stood in the doorway, just watching her sleep in the fetal position as if trying to escape all the nightmares haunting her. Then she whimpered and began to cry in her sleep.