Twenty-Four

Dayton

Sometime near four, I finally dropped off to sleep, my body and the comfort of Vale in my arms overruling my turbulent thoughts. When I woke, however, I was alone. The scent of bacon and possibly pancakes, as well as coffee, tantalized my senses. That meant my woman was in the kitchen, and I needed to get my ass out of bed.

As I entered the hallway, I heard Brennan with her, talking quietly.

"Do you remember that Mickey Mouse waffle maker you and Day got to cheer me up?" he asked in a low tone, obviously not wanting his words to reach me.

Too late, buddy.

"The one that stuck no matter what we did?" Vale asked on a quiet laugh.

"Yeah. Whatever happened to it?"

"It might have snuck its way into the trash while you were at school. I distracted you with French toast sticks for a month."

What the fuck?My hand reached for the wall as a wave of shock overwhelmed me, my chest locking up.

What kind of game was Vale playing? No wonder she seemed so fucking perfect, as if she were completely in tune with me. She'd… What? Modeled herself after my dead wife? What was she playing at? Was this something else connected to Dutch and the drug cartel investigation. One more thing to throw me off step and distract me?

She'd fucking come on the scene baking the same as Melonie. She knew things about me that she shouldn't. And she'd clearly gained Brennan's trust through this ruse, preying on his emotions and the loss of his surrogate mother.

My heart ached. For the loss he was about to receive. For the one I'd have, just when I'd begun to believe I could live again. What had she even told him? That she'd gone into protection? Had surgery? Something else equally ridiculous?

It was a con, clear and simple, and it ended now.

I burst into the kitchen, and the two of them startled, spinning toward me with wide eyes.

"What the hell is this?" I demanded.

"Breakfast…" Brennan said slowly, but Vale's wide eyes told me she knew I'd heard.

"Let me explain," she said, not taking her gaze off me as she reached over to turn off the burners on the stove.

"I don't think there's anything to explain. How could you do that to a kid? What kind of bullshit have you been feeding him? Me?"

"She hasn't told me anything," Brennan cut in, moving closer to Vale. Clearly protective. That reminded me of Biter, but when I glanced over, I found he'd gone sometime in the morning, perhaps repositioning himself outside. Oh course, that was probably part of the ruse, too, if a less explainable one.

"Brennan, go to your room. Say goodbye to Vale because this is the last you'll see her."

"No, it won't be," he exclaimed. "She didn't tell me anything. I can see it. I knew."

"This is the bullshit about your abilities?" I snapped.

Hurt blossomed on his face, telling me I shouldn't have said it. I knew it the moment the words burst from my lips. But they were out before I could stop them. Silently, Brennan glared at me, his eyes angry yet glassy while his jaw worked. I watched him swallow down his emotions at the verbal punch I'd just delivered, and move closer to Vale.

"Brennan, just go. Let me talk to Dayton, okay? He didn't mean it," she added quietly. "You know he didn't."

My brother shook his head. His shoulder's slumped as the lighthearted morning turned into a tsunami of drama. He pulled Vale into a hug, and I barely gritted back my railing, yelling for him to get away from here. She had only used him.

He looked over at me as he straightened. "Listen to her. She's telling you the truth. Vale, tell him something only the two of you would know."

Then after telling Vale he'd see her later, he went to his room, leaving the woman I'd been growing to love alone with me in the kitchen. A host emotions played over her face as she stared at me. Regret, sadness, guilt…

"Well?" I demanded. "What fucked-up explanation are you going to go with?"

Her head shook, and her lips moved, but no explanation came. No confession of her duplicity.

"Say something!" I yelled, barely restraining the urge to reach out and shake the words from her. I'd never shown violence like that, but then I'd never had someone infiltrate my life with lie after lie after lie.

"I never wanted to leave. I couldn't leave," she choked out. Tears sparkled in her eyes, and my hands fisted against the unwarranted compulsion to reach for her. Everything inside me tore asunder, ripping me to opposite directions.

I stepped back. "What are you talking about?"

She huffed a breath, seeming to steel herself. Her head shook slowly while her lips rolled together. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you, but…" Her half-laugh held no humor. "There's no good way to tell someone you switched souls so you could stay—"

"You're crazy," I spat. Of all the things I'd expected, that shit wasn't it.

"I'm not." She shook her head again, a single tear rolling along her cheek. "I've loved you since grade school. Loved you more than should be possible. Call me co-dependent but I couldn't function without you. We were two halves—"

My hand swiped through the air. "Stop it! Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not lying," she insisted.

"Who's behind this? What do you want?"

"No one," she whispered. "I just wanted…to get back to…you…and…Bren…" Her breaths shuddered, her words almost unintelligible. She seemed so convincing, but I still didn't believe her.

"Tell me the truth and then leave! Are you in league with Dutch? Is this part of his game? Is he even guilty of what you and your brother accused him of?" I didn't even address what I'd seen last night at the clubhouse then later in my living room. Had I been drugged?

"Don't you want to know who killed me? Melonie? I can tell you everything."

"Leave. Just leave."

"You already know who it was. I can give you proof. You don't have to believe me, but I can give you closure. And if you want me to leave… Then I'll…leave."

She took a long, fortifying breath. Tears rolled unchecked over her cheeks, and she shook her head, the desolation in her seeming real. She was a fucking good actress. That was for sure.

"Let me give you the evidence you need. It'll point you the right way. Then I'll go. I'll go, and you'll never see me again."

"What evidence?"

"Evidence I hid because I was afraid for your life."

"Stop it," I growled through my teeth. "You're not Melonie. The only thing you're afraid of is repercussions for this."

"You're wrong. I don't blame you for not believing me, though." Her fingers scrubbed over her mottled cheeks, her eyes red from the tears she couldn't just swipe away. She chewed the corner of her lip. The side of her fist tapped on the counter while she stared at the floor.

"When your parents died," she started quietly, not looking at me, "I…Melonie…was pregnant. The grief—yours and Brennan's and my reaction to it, as well as my own grief—and the overwhelming stress the entire situation caused me, caused my body to miscarry. We were the only ones who knew at that point. We hadn't told anyone because it was our tiny, special secret. We had so many plans… And after that, you refused to try again. You said you couldn't put me through that again."

"Stop," I whispered, the weak word having no force or venom. How many more punches would be thrown this morning. She was bringing up my deepest pains. Melonie, my parents, the child we'd lost…

"That morning, the morning of the murder, we had a fight. About getting pregnant. You found out that I'd stopped taking my pills. You were furious, and I was pretty pissed at you. Weboth went to work angry. And I told you… I told you I was angry enough to leave you."

"No…" My head shook. I didn't want to hear this.

"You called me on the way to work. You begged me not to leave. You said…we could figure something else. Then…" Her tight, little fist pounded fruitlessly in the air while she shook, blindly staring into nothing. "I couldn't leave you. My body was damaged beyond any repair. But… I couldn't…"

I swallowed around the rock in my throat.

But she couldn't…leave.