The young woman, slightly taller than his mother, drew her close. “It’s okay, Mom. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“She’s your mom?” The question escaped before Evan could stop it. This young woman was his half sister? “What the hell?”

The guy put the flat of his hand to his chest. “I’m Tony.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s my sister, Kelsey. We only recently learned that you’re our brother.”

Shock wasn’t the right word for what Evan was feeling. It was more like a bowling ball had just slammed into his head at top speed, leaving his brain cells scattered like bowling pins at the end of the alley after a strike.

Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe, from the moment Whitney had told him she’d lied about being pregnant, putting him through the grief of those faked miscarriages, never even wanting his kid in the first place—maybe it had all just been a nightmare. Sure, why not add in his long-lost mother walking back into his life, the woman who’d abandoned him to a child-beater? Returning with two grown kids, no less, who were his brother and sister.

Twenty-five years. That’s how long she’d waited to come find him.

He hadn’t been able to hold back his surprise, but he’d be damned if he’d let her see he was still hurting over her desertion. He’d gotten over it a long time ago.

“What are you doing here?”

His question was deliberately cool. Calm, despite the fact that his mother continued to bury her face against Kelsey’s shoulder while the younger woman stroked her hair, murmuring to her. Evan had let his emotions get the best of him one too many times during the past month. He wouldn’t make that mistake again, no matter the provocation.

“We didn’t want to freak you out, but we worried that if we called your headquarters, we’d never get through to you. And if we did, you probably wouldn’t believe we were actually related to you.”

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Hell, he could hardly believe it now, even though he could see with his own eyes that this was his mother—and knew he shared more than one physical feature with Tony and Kelsey.

“We aren’t here for your money, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

His thoughts hadn’t had a chance to get that far, not when seeing his mother again after all these years had jumbled his brain so badly.

Evan raised an eyebrow, taking Tony’s measure. They were the same height, with the same hair color and hazel eyes. Tony had a strong chin, a sturdy stance, and an intelligent gaze he didn’t drop. He looked to be about a decade younger than Evan.

It hit him then—his mother had left when he was nine. One day she was there, the next she was gone. His father had told Evan she obviously didn’t want to take care of him, or the husband she “owed everything” to, anymore.

That had been a brutal night for Evan. One that had played out in his nightmares for years. He hadn’t been able to avoid his father’s fists that night. And finally, alone in his bed, his body aching, Evan had given in to tears for the mother who hadn’t loved him enough to take him with her.

“How old are you?” he asked almost roughly.

“Twenty-five,” Tony answered.

He glanced at Kelsey and she answered his unspoken question. “We’re twins.”

Maybe he should ask their birthday, work out the exact date. But he didn’t need to ask for any more confirmation. Not when he already knew by looking at them that these two weren’t his half siblings. They were full-blood siblings.

It wasn’t difficult for Evan to put two and two together. His mother must have found out she was pregnant and decided to get the hell out. Obviously, taking a nine-year-old on the run would have been too hard.

So she’d left him in hell.

Tony lifted his chin and looked Evan straight in the eye. “Can we come in?”

Jesus, how had his life come to this, screwed up beyond all comprehension? His wife had lied to him for years. He’d kissed his sister-in-law breathless. And now good old Mom was back, accompanied by two siblings who wanted God only knew what.

He could kick them off his property and file a restraining order against them to ensure they never got within a hundred feet again. But Susan always said it was better to face the devil you knew. And his foster mother—the woman who’d saved him from the brutal pit his birth mother had left him in—was always right.

“You might as well come in.”

* * *

Mrs. M made coffee and brought out pastries and coffee cake to go with it, as if this were a social call. They sat in the formal living room furnished with expensive chairs and sofas that Evan had always found uncomfortable.

Tony’s sister—Evan’s sister too—sat on the sofa next to their mother. Kelsey had produced tissues from her bag and given them to their mother, who was now dabbing her nose and eyes, sniffling. Tony sat in the chair on her other side, as if he and Kelsey were sentinels protecting her.

Evan poured coffee for everyone. Really, at this point, why the hell not? He pushed the sugar and cream their way across the glass tabletop. When his mother said, “Thank you,” her voice was soft.

He remembered that voice. Remembered her singing to him when he had trouble falling asleep at night. And he remembered her crying too. Remembered the sounds of breaking glass and slamming doors, the smell of mold in the hallways of their tenement. He remembered the bitter cold in the winters, his gloves, coat, and shoes too worn and too small to keep it out.




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