Page 83 of The Other Side of Green

“And what were you protecting me from? For me to find out all these years later that Lyra is my sister, and that the only woman apart from you who I’ve ever given a shit about, who I’ve loved my entire existence, can’t be mine.”

“Lyra isn’t your sister.”

“Really? Tell that to Luca who’s been keeping the secret all these years. That’s why he did what he did that night, because he knew I was in love with my sister. He was trying to protect me…” I hesitated. “I think. Either that or he was as jealous as fuck.”

“Jack! Language.”

I twisted my gaze onto Phillipe. “Please don’t. I’m a grown man, and I’ve told you before my mom’s heard a lot worse.”

“Still, you should be respectful.”

“Respectful? Any respect I have is because Mom taught it me. Get back in your box, detective.” I turned back to Mom, cheeks flaming.

“Sorry, Mom. And I’m apologizing because I want to and not because I’ve been told to.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Jack, I promise you that Lyra isn’t your sister.”

“How can you? You got a magic wand? Anyhow, I’ve been busy looking at what DNA tests we can do.” I grabbed my cell out of my back pocket to open up the things I’d found to show her. “I think we can test myself, Luca, and Lyra to see what similarities come up. Without Dad’s DNA it would just be a case of looking through our genetic markers and seeing if Lyra has any that replicate mine.”

“Jack.” Mom cut me off. “She’s not your sister.”

“Yeah, we’re all living in hope that her mother was so high she can’t remember who she screwed and there are a few other contenders.”

Phillipe shifted, but didn’t comment on my language.

“Jack, she’s not your sister, because he’s not your father.”

Her words jumbled as they entered my brain, not making any sense at all. “Pardon?”

“He’s not your father. Phillipe is.”

I stared between them. My chest getting tighter and tighter and tighter, until I launched out of my seat and punched the fucker on the nose.

Not that it helped me feel any better at all.

Chapter Twenty

Lyra

“Lyra, Lyra, Lyra.’ Shaun Parks drum rolled the top of the piano. “Am I pleased to have you back.” His smile dropped. “I’m sorry about your grandmother though.”

“Thanks, it came as a shock.”

“I’m sure it did.” He motioned for me to sit down next to him, which was kinda hard because he took up a lot of the stool space and I didn’t exactly want to cosy up with the guy. He was nice, but he was no Jack. Harsh but true. “So things have been a bit crazy here since you left.”

My cheeks colored. “I know. I don’t really know how I feel about it.”

“Hopefully like you want to prove everybody wrong.”

I pulled a face, which could have been taken as either a positive or negative response.

“Have you managed to play much while you’ve been gone?”

“Only at the funeral.” I swallowed with my answer.

“Okay, let’s start with the scales to warm up, and then some Vivaldi I think to get our blood pumping.” He nodded to my violin case. “You know we’ve had a lot of interest in you since all the headlines broke. A lot of people want to hear you play. I understand a couple of late-night art shows have reached out and asked for interviews.”

“Really? Greene didn’t mention it.”