Page 15 of Deadly Lust

Mia

THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE draped over Grant. Despite his declarations that he was through with me, I felt more connected to him than ever. When I opened my eyes, he was still next to me, which almost never happened. He had always been an early riser.

I slipped out of bed and let Hero outside before making some coffee. Then I made the only vegan breakfast Grant actually enjoyed: avocado toast with pink Himalayan sea salt and cherry tomatoes. It was a San Diego classic.

I must’ve been too loud, because when I looked up, Grant was standing in the kitchen staring at me, a suspicious look on his face.

“Morning.”

He sat down, and I served him toast and coffee. After eating for a few minutes in silence, I broke and set down my coffee mug.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason.”

“Grant, I know when you’re lying to me. What do you want from me? I’ve been one-hundred percent honest with you since you found out who I was. Every time you look at me, you have this suspicious scowl on your face. If you have any questions, just ask. I have nothing to hide anymore.”

He sipped his coffee, his poker face in full effect. “Your son, did you ever take a picture of him?”

I swallowed, trying to stop the tears from starting. “Yes, of course. I have one.”

“Show me.”

I’d never shown anyone the worn picture I kept hidden in the back of my wallet. For the first year after I’d lost him, I looked at that picture every day. Then, one day, I stopped. Looking at my handsome little boy was unbearable. Wondering who he would be today or how different my life would be, broke my soul.

I stood up, grabbed my wallet from my purse, and shoved it at Grant, refusing to look at it myself.

“It’s in the wide slot.”

Grant retrieved the photo, and I kept my gaze on his face, knowing what he was looking for. He wanted to see if the boy was his.

He examined the picture, and his eyes blinked rapidly. He lost the battle with the emotions I knew were raging through him, and for the first time since I had met him, Grant shed a tear.

“He has a cleft in his chin like mine. He’s mine.”

I swallowed and choked back tears. Deep down, I knew he was Grant’s. They had the same face shape and that telltale cleft. But I never saw my attacker’s face, so how did I know he didn’t share the same traits? The loss of my son was hard enough, but I couldn’t bring myself to think about losing Grant’s son. It was unbearable.

“I hoped he was. But I never wanted to know. If he wasn’t yours, and his dad was the guy who raped me, I didn’t want to love him any less. Please forgive me.”

“Did you bury him?”

I centered myself and spoke rapidly. “No. He died while I was recovering from my C-section. I had an infection, almost died, and was in and out of consciousness. By the time I was awake, he’d been taken to the morgue. I signed a form for him to be cremated and took his ashes to Mt. Tam.”

He nodded, almost emotionless. What the hell? He had a look that I would almost describe as hopeful. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“And you never told Joaquín? We now know from Mitch that your brother knew you were raped.”

“No, you all were deployed most of my pregnancy. I never told him, and he never met Elías.”

“Elías? You named him after your dad?”

“Yes.”

Grant nodded, and then reached over and held my hand. “Let’s go see him today.”

“You want to go to San Francisco to see where I scattered his ashes?”

“No. I want to go see Joaquín, just kind of see where his head is at. But don’t go telling him anything about Mitch, Elías, or that we know he knew you were raped. Promise me.”