Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

KYLE

T onight hasn't been too bad.

Everyone welcomed Dani like I knew they would, and she's been great, sitting at my side and keeping me steady.

And if that's all there was to tonight, I'd be fine. But it's not.

"Dinner should be ready," Mom says when the grandfather clock in the foyer chimes. "Let me get Charles. He's on a call with Sri Lanka."

I feel the tension shoot through my body at the mention of Dad, and Dani peers at me with worry in her eyes. "Kyle." I hear the warning in her whispered tone, telling me that tonight's not the time to bring up my suspicions, and I know she's right, but they're so close to the surface that I'm having a hard time with the idea of sitting at the table with my father.

"Come on, let's eat." I lead her to the dining room, where the table is set, and I see that someone's already added a place setting for Dani. Family dinner isn't a formal affair, typically, despite the long, cherry wood table, line-up of designer fabric-covered chairs, and the room's expensive wallpaper and wood trim. We eat in here because it's the only table big enough to hold everyone, so everything from pizza to something the chef has whipped up is served here.

There's a bit of shuffling so Dani can sit next to me, and then we're all waiting for Mom and Dad to come back while the food sits on the table getting cold. I can feel eyes on me, like my siblings are silently begging me to just shut the fuck up for once so we can have a nice dinner, especially when we have a guest here.

I shoot a glare around the table, letting them know that I have every intention of leaving things alone and not causing problems… this time.

But they don't know what I know. Or what I suspect, at least.

This is not the time or the place for that , I remind myself.

When Mom and Dad walk in, they're holding hands and Dad has a smudge of Mom's pink lipstick on his mouth. Like I told Dani, they're ridiculously in love, which is why I'm so fucking confused.

They sit down beside each other, with Mom at Dad's right, and she gasps when she looks at him. "Oh, sorry!" She swipes at Dad's mouth with her thumb, smiling softly.

"Hey, everyone, sorry. I had to take that call," Dad says, scanning the table. He gets to Dani and stops. I place a hand on her thigh, visibly claiming Dani and warning Dad to tread carefully. "Hello. Miranda said Kyle brought a friend. I'm Charles Harrington, nice to meet you."

"Dani Becerra." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She also doesn't say ‘it's nice to meet you too.' It's a little thing, but I'm confident it's intentional.

I clear my throat, and Mom interjects before Dad and I can get started. "Let's eat before it gets cold." Everyone rushes to follow her lead and starts passing platters and bowls around as quickly as possible. Kayla goes so far as to shove a basket of bread at me, but given her threatening scowl, I guess I should be thankful she doesn't actually jam a roll into my mouth to shut up anything I'm about to say.

I take a roll, placing it on my plate, and pass the basket to Dani, doing the same as the other dishes come around the table. The chef made chicken marsala tonight, a recent favorite of Janey's, plus asparagus, roasted new potatoes, and caprese salad.

Once everyone has their plates filled, Mom asks Janey, "How are you feeling? Any contractions yet?"

"A few Braxton-Hicks ones, but nothing serious. Cole's keeping track of those too, though," she says, glancing at my brother affectionately. "He thinks I won't know the difference and will miss out on the early signs of labor and not make it to the hospital in time."

"Six percent of babies not born in a hospital are born in the car," Cole replies, sounding like he's researched and reported that statistic countless times before.

"You'll know the difference when the time is right," Mom says, sounding sure of that. And I guess she would, considering she's delivered six babies.

Talk turns to all things baby, and Janey and Cole become the center of attention, sharing their plans for labor and birth—which thankfully aren't too descriptive considering we're eating—and their first few days at home.

"I think we're gonna see everyone at the hospital and then cocoon in for a bit while I recover," Janey says.

Mom nods, but it's Cameron who interjects. "You'll need lots of ice packs for the swelling and lemon slushies to stay hydrated. Stock up now."

Everyone freezes, forks poised over plates and on their way to mouths, and looks at him. Cameron doesn't talk about his late wife and life with her very often. He certainly doesn't talk about how he feels about life without her, with a mini-version of her at his side in his daughter.

He licks his lips like he's regretting speaking up and buries his attention in his plate again.

"Ice packs. Lemon slushies. Got it. Thanks, Cam," Cole tells him. There's emotion in his voice, and it's heartfelt enough to get through to even me.

Dani gives me a curious look, and I subtly shake my head, asking her to leave it for now. I'll explain later, though I don't know how much I can. I was a stupid, self-involved kid when Cameron's wife died. I remember going to the funeral, and Cameron nearly drinking himself to death in the few days after. I remember Mom taking care of Grace and having whispered conversations with people on the phone about how Cameron was doing. And then… nothing. I can't even remember the last time we mentioned her by name. It's like she never existed. It's like the trauma never happened.

We don't talk about it, we don't acknowledge it, we pretend it never happened.

A lot like we do for anything painful.

Well, fuck that. I think the time for hushed whispers and shoving the dirty details under the rug is long since passed.

"Maybe you can get help like Mom and Dad did," I suggest, my eyes locked on Dad. "Hire out the stuff you don't want to do. Just watch out for any unexpected bonus surprises."

There's a collective gasp, more at my sharply bitter tone than the words, which could be construed as accidentally getting pregnant. But that's not what I mean, and the way Mom and Dad are looking at me makes it seem like they know exactly what I'm talking about.

"Kyle." The single word from Dad is delivered with all the authority he thinks he holds over the family. Over each of us, including me.

"Dad," I answer, equally stern. " Or …" I taunt.

"Kyle! What are you talking about?" Mom hisses, looking at Dani like she doesn't want to display our family skeletons in front of company.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but this is not the time, nor the place, for it," Dad decrees, expecting me to obey.

All around the table, my siblings and their spouses are looking at me with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion. They can join the club because I feel the same way. I feel Dani's hand land on my thigh. I'm not sure if she's being supportive or telling me to be quiet too, and I can't risk looking at her to find out because if I see pity in her eyes, I will lose the tenuous hold I've got on my temper.

"We can just ignore it the way we always do? Is that your grand plan?" I demand of Dad, throwing my fork and knife to my plate, where they land with a loud clatter.

Dad sets his utensils down gently, his jaw steel and his eyes cold. "Fine, you obviously have something to say to me. Go ahead. The floor is yours." He waves his hands, like he's officially allowing me to speak.

"Kyle," Cameron grumbles, trying to stop the runaway train I'm on, and I'm not surprised he's the one coming to Dad's rescue. He's always on Dad's side, because of all of us, he's the one most like Dad.

"I know you're not my biological dad. I always wondered why you hated me so much." I huff a humorless laugh. "Guess I know now."

There's a chorus of confusion and ‘what's he talking about?' around the table, but I keep my attention on Dad, wanting to see his reaction and judge for myself whether he's known or not. But he has an excellent poker face and I'm still not sure.

Dad blinks, and then his brows bunch together low over a harsh glare. "What in the hell are you taking about?" he spits out. "Of course I'm your father. I might not be the one you like, and you might think I'm shitty at it, but I'm the only one you've got."

"So you didn't know? You just treated me like shit, truly thinking I was your son. That might even be more fucked up, Dad ." I sneer the name I've called him countless times before—in love, in need, in anger, in frustration, and now, in disdain.

"Stop! Both of you, stop," Mom shouts, putting her hand on Dad's arm. He covers her hand with his own, and Mom turns to me, wanting a sign that I'm listening too. I scoff, rolling my eyes because I'm not surprised she's taking his side. "Kyle, of course Charles is your father. What are you talking about?"

"I heard you on the phone, Mom. Talking about how Dad was working all the time, traveling and never home to be an actual parent like he was with the other kids, so you had to hire help for Kayla and Cole. Anders was here, helping with them, and then… boom, here I come." I emphasize the words so she knows I heard it all, including the implication that Anders is my dad.

Mom presses her lips together, tilting her head as she looks at me in disappointment.

"I was talking to Natalie, my friend whose daughter just had twins. She's struggling so I suggested she hire help, like I did, because Anders was a godsend for our entire family."

"It sounds like it," I snipe.

"Kyle Harrington, are you suggesting that I cheated on my husband?" Mom shouts, tears in her eyes. "You think I went outside our marriage? What do you think that makes me?" She stands from the table, the napkin in her lap falling to the floor. "I would never, have never, and will never cheat on the man that I love, and for you to think me capable of such an awful betrayal breaks my heart."

With that, she whirls and runs from the room.

I make a move to go after her, pushing back from the table and standing, but Dad snaps, "Don't you fucking dare." He stands too, coldly placing his napkin on the table as he glares at me. "Anders helped your mother through the hardest moments she's ever had as a mother. Until tonight." He pauses, letting that sink in. "She loved the twins" —he cuts his eyes to Cole and Kayla but quickly returns his attention to me— "but five kids was harder than she expected, especially when she was healing after a long pregnancy and rough delivery. She was depressed, exhausted, and trying to do everything for everyone the way she always does. Having Anders here to carry some of that load saved her, saved her sanity, and saved our marriage because it gave her a moment to find herself again. After a while, she was able to let me love her—emotionally, and eventually, physically. She got pregnant with you on our anniversary, and it felt like a turning point, like a sign that things were gonna be okay."

His words are hitting me like bullets, shredding everything I thought I knew about my parents. In considering that Dad might not be my father, I hadn't really grasped what that would say about Mom. My focus was on Dad and how he'd failed me, so I never put together that I was saying Mom betrayed him.

Shame is weighing me down. I didn't mean to hurt Mom. I only wanted to hurt Dad the way he's hurt me so many times before. So, I deal with it the only way I know how—by lashing out.

"Then why do you hate me so fucking much?" I snarl, ripping at my heart through my shirt. "If I was some sign that everything was okay, why have you always hated me?"

He huffs a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "I don't hate you. I love you. Even when you do stupid shit and I have to save you from yourself, I've loved you. But this?" He points his finger toward the door where Mom ran out. "I will never forgive you for hurting the woman I love. She's your mother, but she's my wife! " He roars that out, and I can feel his protectiveness over her. Any other time, I'd be glad for it, except this time, I'm apparently the threat to my own mother.

He strides from the room, his footsteps heavy on the marble floor, and then, from upstairs, a door slams loudly. He went to my mother, to comfort her… because of me.

"What the actual fuck, Kyle?" Cameron demands. He's pissed and sounds like he's ready to throw hands, which is surprising, not because I don't deserve it, but because while Cameron is a monster in business deals, he's not one to be physically violent. Ever. Of course it'd be me who could push him that far.

When I look at him, I see the chair beside him is empty. Grace. I didn't even think of her before I laid into Dad. I hope Cameron got her out of here before things got too bad.

"You know how he's always been with me. It made sense," I argue, running my hands through my hair and gripping the strands as I stare unseeingly at my plate.

"We all know he's not perfect, but he's our dad," Cameron says. "That's never been a question."

"It was for me!" I shout, planting my hands on the table and leaning toward Cameron. If this table wasn't between us, I'd be throwing punches because the anger is bubbling up so hot and fast that I can't process what just happened. And I am the one Harrington prone to fights, so they all instinctively lean away from my angry outburst. "It made sense that if I wasn't his, he couldn't love me the same as he does you, because that hurts less than the alternative—his being my dad, but not loving me. I guess I'm just not worthy."

"He loves you," Carter scoffs.

I whirl on him. "Do you know how many times he's asked me why I can't be like you? Or you?" I glare at Cameron. "Or you?" I turn my gaze to Chance.

"Not me," Cole interjects flatly.

He's got me there. Cole and I dealt with our feelings about our family in different ways. He bailed, I fought. I fought everything, everyone, even myself. Hell, maybe myself most of all.

"I was invisible, unimportant, forgotten. I still am. The only way anyone pays attention to me is if I'm blowing shit up. Well, here you go, a nice family dinner and I'm fucking it all up again, ruining everything in one fell swoop." I hold my arms out wide, letting them take aim at me.

They stay quiet, looking at me with hurt, betrayal, disappointment, and anger all mixed in their matching blue eyes that I don't have. Because I'm the outsider, the outlier, the outcast.

I grab Dani's hand, pulling her to her feet. She's been silent beside me for this whole explosion. I'm sorry she's seen it, but maybe now she'll understand what I've been saying about my family.

Or she'll see that you're the problem the way they all do.

I can't think about that right now, so I drag her toward the front door. I'm not surprised Kayla follows us. She's Mom's minion, first and foremost.

"Kyle…"

I can't help it. Years of her second mothering me has trained me too well, so I stop, but I glare at her, silently letting her know I don't need a lecture, a rebuke, or any damn thing else.

"Don't do anything stupid. Well, anything else." She arches a blonde brow, challenging me to disagree with her that tonight was a top-tier fuckup.

I grit my teeth, ugly words that Kayla doesn't deserve on the tip of my tongue, but she's already turned her attention to Dani. "Stay with him. You're good for him," she spits out quickly like she thinks I'm gonna yank Dani away from her. She's honestly not wrong, and I might if she's not careful with what she says.

Dani's the one thing I have left. At least I hope she's still with me.

Dani looks from Kayla to me. "Not sure I'm good for anyone."

Kayla leans toward Dani, like she's telling her a secret even though I can hear her every word. "Kyle needs someone who'll burn his ego to the ground but take care of the gentle soul underneath. I think that could be you."

She doesn't wait for my reaction or Dani's, turning around and going back to the dining room where my brothers are talking shit about me loud enough for me to hear.

What was he thinking?

Seriously, he thought Mom would…

At that, I do pull Dani outside and climb on my bike, pushing the helmet her way. She puts it on herself this time because I'm too riled up to be gentle, and then she climbs on behind me.

We roar out of the drive, leaving my family behind along with any mental clarity I might possess. My brain is loud with static, and the only thing that'll shut it up is speed.

So we ride headfirst into the night, going faster… faster… and faster.

Dani said she'd go to hell with me. Well, I think I took her directly there, without passing go or collecting $200. Straight to hell.