“What’s a werewolf?” Jeffrey asked Taylor. “Why is everyone talking about werewolfs? Am I one?”
“Your father can tell you about that. You guys have a lot to talk about.”
Grant felt a red cloud of rage swelling up inside him. “I never got any messages from you,” he growled at Celeste. “Not a single one. This is mysonwe’re talking about here. My flesh and blood. I would have come the second I found out he existed, if I’d known.”
He looked at Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, I am really, really sorry. I didn’t know about you. If I’d known that I had a son, I would have been over the moon with joy. I would have taken care of you. And I will do that now, I swear.”
“Mom, make him leave. He’s not going to try to take me away from you, is he?” Jeffrey ran over and hid behind Celeste.
Grant gave her a look of astonishment. Mom? She let Jeffrey think she was his mom?
She flushed and looked away.
“Jeffrey,” she said. “I need you to just sit here with Taylor and these other folks while I talk to Grant outside. In the parking lot, so nobody is eavesdropping,” she added to Grant, with a glance at Jeffrey. “Nobody is taking you anywhere. I promise.”
“Fine. Leave me,” he said bitterly. “I know you won’t be back.”
“I’ll read you the book,” Taylor offered. “It’s a really fun book. I swear.”
“I can read a little.” His tone was sullen. “My mom is teaching me. I know ten words now.”
“Great!” Taylor said brightly. “You can help me read!”
“I will be right back. I promise on my life,” Celeste said.
“Never heardthatbefore,” Jeffrey muttered as Celeste grabbed Grant’s arm and hurried him out of the room.
Grant felt a rush of arousal from her touch. The warmth of her fingertips seemed to blossom across his skin, and the heat was echoed in his belly. His cock stirred, and he resisted the impulse to reach down and readjust his suddenly too-tight pants – Celeste already thought he was a pig; he didn’t need to give her any more ammunition.
They quickly walked down the walkway and halfway across the parking lot.
“Hopefully this is far enough that he can’t hear us,” Celeste said. “I never meant for him to hear any of the messages I left for you. All right, we need to talk.”
“Yeah, we need to talk. ‘Mom’?” Grant said furiously. “I didn’t think much of the Hennessy women, but grifting your own nephew? That’s a new low— Ow!”
She raised her hand to slap him, which he easily blocked. But at the same time, she snaked her foot around and hooked it behind his knee, throwing him off balance so he tripped and fell. She lashed out and kicked him in the knee.
“Don’t you dare accuse me of grifting my nephew!” she spat as Grant leaped to his feet. “At least I was willing to take him in. I didn’t turn my back on my own flesh and blood. Unlike some people I could name, you bed-kicking weirdo.”
“‘Bed-kicking weirdo’? Your insults need work. Maybe I could help you with that. Empty-headed pretty-boy, useless man-slut…those are halfway decent. Your self-defense skills are top notch, though, I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks, learned when I was eight. One of my foster sisters got me started. It was the only way to keep our foster dad out of mine and Jennifer’s bed.” At his look of horror, she averted her gaze. “And I don’t need your pity.”
“You don’t have my pity. My dad used to beat me and my brothers on a daily basis. He beat my little brother Austin until his bones broke. We heal fast, but it still hurts. We had rotten childhoods, and we moved on. Then he died, and we held a big party to celebrate.” He paused, his breathing harsh and angry. “But if I could find your foster dad, I’d kill him. Maybe I will, in fact.”
“Too late. One of his intended victims already did.” She managed a faint smile at that.
He glanced at her face, and her gaze fell to the ground.
“The scar? When we were fourteen, staying with a highly respectable youth pastor and his wife, the guy tried to force himself on Jennifer. We were scrappy little fighters by then, so he came armed with a kitchen knife. I put him in a coma. After that, we were only ever put in group homes, no more families.” There was a look of weary resignation on her face that broke his heart. “I’m no good at families.”
“Speaking of families. Jeffrey. You let him think you’re his mom,” Grant prodded her. “That’s all kinds of fucked up.”
She winced, pushing her hair out of her face. “I got a phone call from the coroner’s office telling me Jennifer had died in a car crash, so I flew to Somerville and went to her house. Jeffrey was there, and he was filthy and hungry. When I walked in, he called me mom. I have tried to tell him several times that I’m not his mother, and he freaks out or shuts down every time. He won’t believe me, and I’m not surprised. Jennifer was a manipulative liar, and after six years being raised by her, he has very good reason not to believe anything she tells him. And since I look just like her, that means he assumes I’m her – lying to him again. I don’t know what to do.”
Grant stood there, trying to sort through his tangled emotions. “I had a son all these years, and she never told me.”
She looked at him. “My sister told me that you were dating and you suddenly disappeared on her. She said that when she contacted you and your family and told you she was pregnant, you guys threatened her and told her if she didn’t get rid of it, they’d kill her. She got fake paperwork from a doctor saying she’d had an abortion, and then she went on the run. I helped her get fake ID so she could hide out from you guys.”