My heart threatened to beat out of my chest. It was impossible. There was no way…
“What are you saying, Sloane?”
“They're yours.”
Neither of us moved. No more words were exchanged. All I could do was stare at the woman I thought was dead for the last nine years and hope she wasn’t an elaborate hallucination my mind had conjured up to fuck with me.
“Duncan, you made it.” My head snapped up, breaking our connection.
Waverly and Finn were coming toward us, his arm thrown casually over her shoulder. Their smiles dipped, replaced by puzzled glances as they took in the scene before them.
“What the hell is going on here?” Finn barked.
Sloane paled and my protective instincts roared to the surface like no time had passed.
“Watch your tone,” I returned, inching forward.
“You told me your name was Rogan.” She backed away, shaking her head. Her words were barely a whisper, but I didn’t miss them. Neither did Finn.
“I’m gonna kick your feckin’ ass.”
Pain exploded in my jaw. I hadn’t expected the punch. It was the only excuse for how he got the jump on me. Finn had a hell of an uppercut for a suit, I’d give him credit.
“Finn!” Waverly and Sloane both yelled.
He swung again, only this time I was ready for him. I dodged the blow, using his momentum to spin him and pin him up against the front of the house, trapping his arm behind his back. It was a move I’d used countless times on perps. Never thought I’d have to use it on someone I considered a friend.
“Please let my brother go.”
“Brother?” I croaked, releasing my hold on Finn.
Even with tears streaming down her beautiful face, their resemblance was uncanny, right down to their brilliantblue eyes. Another set of eyes flashed through my mind, two sets, actually. And they were the exact same shade as mine. All at once, Sloane’s words from earlier punched through my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs.
They’re yours.
Fuck. Me. I had kids. Twins.
They’re yours.
I was a father.
The black spots dotting my vision from lack of oxygen turned into a red haze as another thought crossed my mind. I sucked in a ragged breath at the realization. Someone purposefully kept me from Sloane…from my family. The same someone who sat beside my hospital bed while I mourned her death and shouldered the blame. The same slimy-ass motherfucker who called me out of the blue less than an hour ago from Quantico with a warning. I was going to beat Niall black and blue, but first, he was going to tell me why. I made it two steps before her timid voice cut through the blinding rage thrumming in my veins.
“Rogan?”
Stowing my anger, I turned and went to her, cupping her face between my palms.
“Sunshine.” She shivered at my use of her old nickname. “My real name is Duncan Palmer. I know everything is fucked up right now and I’ll explain it all to you when I get back, just know I was taking you to our spot that day to tell you everything.”
“Get back? Where are you going?”
“To get answers.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips to her forehead, then before anyone could stop me, I took off for my Jeep.
2GUTTED
Duncan
It was close to seven hours from Huntington to Quantico if I drove straight through. Seven hours with only bitterness and regret to keep me company. Or so I thought. An hour in, the text messages started. When those went unanswered, she called. I knew exactly who was blowing up my phone without having to look.