22. On a Hunch

22

ON A HUNCH

SOPHIA

I blinked, and the entire trajectory of my life changed.

Again.

There aren't words to explain the deep-rooted betrayal I saw in Mazen's eyes when I answered him as honestly as I could. The defining moment between despair and anguish molded together into an avalanche of betrayal.

He hates me. Just like I knew he would if he learned the truth.

Hell, I'm not even one hundred percent certain that he is Roman's father. I know it's a possibility—a large one.

There are so many questions we need the answers to. Questions that he, too, has a hand in answering.

He left, and I don't blame him for it.

That was five hours ago.

Ashton had stormed after him, phone pressed to his ear, concern etched on his face.

What should have been the best night of their lives morphed into a nightmare I don't think any of us will ever forget. Not in this lifetime at least. They'll probably hide their shiny award on the bottom of the shelf, refusing to allow the memory of this evening to spark even an ounce of happiness.

I ruined it for them. My selfishness ruined everything.

When we're ushered back to the hotel, I go through the motions in utter silence. I undress and discard my gown, wishing I could light it on fire, burn away all recollection of tonight. I brush my teeth. Pile my hair on top of my head and crawl under the blankets in my own room, refusing to see Oliver or Cannon.

It isn't that I want to punish them. I'm beyond thankful that they even still want to comfort me after learning Mazen very well could be the father of my child, a child that I never told them about.

I've already taken too much from Mazen. I refuse to take his band, his friends, too. Even when their faces pleaded with me to cave and accept their comfort, I refused. Pushing them away, despite my broken heart calling out to them, was the least I could do.

The damage is done.

In the morning, we'll wake, and Lacey and I will fly home, back to Tampa. I'll call Julian Caddell and tell him that our deal is off and prepare myself for whatever consequence he doles out.

That's the last coherent thought I have as sleep drags me into its depths.

I'm awoken by several loud sounds .

Boom.

Clank.

Bang.

My body jolts up in bed, and my red-rimmed eyes take in the sight in front of me. Fear coils down my spine as my eyes lock on to Mazen's unmerciful glare a moment before the rest of his band crowds my bedroom.

Everyone begins speaking at once.

"You need to chill."

"She's sleeping. Go shower, and give her time to get up. Where have you been anyway? A homeless shelter. You reek."

"You've lost your damn mind if you think I'll allow you to take her anywhere."

If my face could muster a smile, it would from the last voice that spoke. Lacey.

I'm so angry with her for her part in the truth coming to light. I'm even angrier with myself, at my choice not to mention the possibility when I confided in Mazen at the hospital. I'm to blame here, not my sister.

"Get up. We have a flight to catch." The clear-cut distrust in Mazen's stone-cold accent chills his eyes as he speaks. His voice is deep, rough. Like he screamed throughout the entire night. "Rosella," he says in warning, temper flaring behind his tone. "Get the hell out of bed. I'll pack your bags."

Another bang echoes as he continues tossing shoes and articles of clothing into my bag. He doesn't stop to ask what belongs to me and what belongs to my sister. He's not fazed in the slightest. He's on a mission to send me back home, shove my existence into a box, and chuck the key into the ocean .

"Where am I going?" I shudder at the thought of being tossed out of this hotel on my ass.

Hearing him chuck my belongings into my bag, knowing he already planned my departure before I even opened my eyes this morning is unsettling.

"We're going on a trip."

I watch his nostrils flare. When his eyes meet mine, there's a sardonic expression on his face.

"Just you and me."

Lacey steps into his space, beckoning his attention. Their chests collide, both puffed out, dominant. "I told you, you're not taking my sister anywhere. I don't trust you … like this."

She's undoubtedly referring to the manic state Mazen's in. His hair is disheveled, and he appears to still be wearing his black dress pants and shirt from last night.

Mazen steps forward, and the movement causes her to take a step backward, forced to retreat. "You don't trust me, Lacey? That's rich. Seems like trust is obsolete in this suite, doesn't it?"

I'm immediately alarmed that he's using her legal name. It's a first, and it should be a strong indication that his temper is on the verge of erupting.

"If she's going anywhere with you, I'm coming," my sister says before bending, tossing her belongings into their rightful home—her suitcase.

"I'm fine with going home. If you don't want me here, if you can't look at me anymore, I get it." I climb off the luxurious mattress, bidding sleep goodbye. "Chill out. Let me pack my own stuff, and Lace and I will book a flight. You don't have to see to it that we actually board the plane. It didn't end so well the last time that happened, did it?"

"Soph. "

Hearing my name being called from the doorway, I glance over to find Oliver leaning against the doorframe. I flash him a help me look, only for the plea in my eyes to be shut down by the icy coldness in his.

The hurt lingering in my chest turns into white-hot anger of my own. I get why I'm being cast out. I can own that fact. What I can't own is the people who I thought had my back, cared for me even, are just sitting by while Mazen screams at me.

"I overheard him on the phone. He's taking you to Chicago," Lacey says in a low, tormented voice.

I huff, "Chicago. Why?" Swiveling on my heel, I turn to find Mazen, who is still packing my bag. "What's there to see in Chicago?"

"You're going to take me to my son's gravesite," he replies with enough spite to stop me in my tracks.

My next breath comes out ragged. "I … we … don't even know for certain."

"We will." He turns, assessing me from head to toe. "Get dressed." The insolence in his voice is like a slap to my face. "Please," he adds. "Our plane is leaving soon. We don't have time to discuss this right now. I have a right to see him."

The pain in Mazen's voice is evident. It's then that I truly listen. That pain pulls at my heartstrings, speaking louder than his anger.

Cannon's wide stance steps in front of me. His own rage quakes through his body as he guards me from one of his best friends. "Then we'll all go."

"No." I step in front of him. Casting a sympathetic glance toward Mazen, I struggle to hold his attention. It's as if it physically pains him to look directly at me. "I'll take you to see him. "

That earns me a hard glare.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Oliver start to pace alongside my bed. "This is insane. You know that, don't you?" he pointedly asks his best friend. "You're going on a hunch. A feeling. You need a DNA test to prove you're the father. Let's start there. If it's confirmed, we'll all fly to Chicago. We're a unit now. All of us. Let's face this together. Enough going rogue. Look where that got Sophia already."

I shift on my bare feet, turning toward Oliver. There's a pained expression marring his beautiful face. I've made such a mess of things.

"If we're going to run a DNA test, we'll need something of Roman's." From only a few feet away, I see Mazen's body tense as I speak his name. "We need to fly to Tampa first and I agree, we need to do this alone."

"Well, I don't agree," my sister chimes in. "Look how he's talking to you. He's tossing your shit in your bag like he's about to throw you out onto the street. You think I trust you gallivanting off to another state with him? You're delusional or still drunk from last night. This is my fault that I blurted something I shouldn't have. I'll be damned if I allow him to punish you for my mistake."

It comes as no surprise that she would try to protect me. It's what we do. What we've always done for one another. The only difference now is my heart grew, allowing others in. I can't turn my back on one of them, just like I could never turn my back on her. Even if she doesn't understand my rationale.

I'm going with him to Chicago.

I owe it to myself to find out the truth as much as I owe it to Mazen.

There'll be time to mend this rift, this disagreement in our group later—I hope. Right now, it's Mazen who deserves my full attention.

Mazen's gunmetal eyes meet mine again. Understanding passes between us, and he offers a quick nod, abandoning his task of packing my bag. His voice sounds like gravel when he asks, "What …" He swallows forcefully, seemingly using the extra second to compose himself. "What did you save?"

He doesn't need to elaborate. I know exactly what he means.

What did I save of Roman's that would still carry DNA ten years later?

"He had a head full of dark hair when he was born. The nurses were gracious enough to cut a lock of it and give it to me."

A crack in my little sister's hard resolve splinters. Her soft sob floats through the air as she remembers the day probably as vividly as I do. She was there. The only person in this entire world, other than myself, to ever meet Roman. She held me as I held my son, long after he took his final breath.

"I have a small hope chest back at my apartment. We need to go there first. Then Chicago. It's the only way to know for certain."

My thoughts fragment into a million tiny shards. I don't need the DNA test to confirm Roman's paternity.

On a hunch , Oliver said.

It's more like a parent's intuition.