“No,” I answer honestly.
Ty smiles and there’s a warmth there I hadn’t expected. “It’s a lot. And a long story. A lot of long stories, actually. But be patient with him, ok? Trust that he never would have said those things to you, and not just because he’s been in love with you for a year and a half. Because he’s not mean. He’s not cruel. He’s not self-serving or manipulative. But… his mom is. And it looks like she fucked you both over. It sucks that you’ve lost so much time, that Knox missed out on so many things, that you had to endure so much on your own. But now you get to rebuild together.”
His words shock me. It’s been a night of revelations, and my brain can’t process any more. “I’m not… We can’t…”
Booker reaches for my hand and speaks softly. “What Ty means is that you and Knox can build a life, a family, for Rose, starting now, with no more secrets between you. No matter what that looks like for the two of you, focus on what that looks like for her.”
I nod. “Yea, yea, that makes sense. Speaking of Rose, I should go get her. She's probably hungry.” Giving myself the out, I wander upstairs and find Phoebe and Rose in the nursery Knox decorated. I want to be pissed about that, but there’s no anger left. I can’t really muster up much vitriol for the man who made our child a home, especially considering what Knox’s own mother did. My head’s still spinning over that, but for now, I sit on the floor and roll a ball with Phoebe and Rose. My sweet little girl has no clue about the chaos that is brewing, and I’m going to do my best to keep it that way.
Chapter 19
Knox
The thoughtof my hateful mother being blood-related to my precious little girl made me sick. Literally. I made it to the bathroom with seconds to spare and now I’m slumped against the wall, my stomach completely empty, and my brain overflowing with confusion and anger.
There’s a loud bang on the door, and it opens to reveal Whit reaching down and giving me a hand up. “Wash up. We got somewhere to go.”
I wash my face and brush my teeth just to feel semi-human again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yea, you are. Come on.” Whit drags me down the hall and to the open basement door. “Good, they’re already here,” he says, and that’s when I spot Booker and Ty leaning against the wall.
Like the rest of The Chapel, the basement has been fully renovated and is decked out like a model home. Half the basement is a home gym, which Booker takes the most advantage of, and the other side is a theater-style movie room.
“What the fuck? Are we gonna watch an after-school special on the big screen?”
“Nope,” Booker says, heading toward the gym. “We’re gonna deal with what’s really bothering you.”
I appreciate the offer, but there’s so much going on in my head right now, a grueling workout isn’t going to scratch the surface. “We’re all gonna lift weights and talk about our feelings?”
Whit crosses to the far corner and grabs boxing gloves. “Nope. You’re gonna beat the shit out of this punching bag.”
“And after I throw a couple punches, I’ll magically feel better?”
“Fuck no,” he laughs. “You’re gonna wail on this bag so hard you’ll cry. There’s nothing magical about that. But, dude, you’re so angry you’re shaking—and with good reason. You gotta let that out.”
It takes a minute, but I put the gloves on and throw a few punches, letting adrenaline course through my body. I don’t feel a catharsis coming on, but I guess a workout’s not a total waste of time. Just as I’m finding my rhythm and feeling a burn in my core, Ty speaks up. “Who’re you mad at, Knox?”
I stop cold, which is a mistake, because the bag sways slightly and I dodge it. “The fuck? Who do you think I’m mad at?” I ask, throwing punch after punch. “She stole my fucking family right out from under me. Heather Dorsey is supposed to be my mother, but her lies, her manipulations, robbed me of my girls.”
“And you’re pissed,” he asks, egging me on.
“Of course I’m pissed!” I hold the bag, then flail my arms. “What? I’m not allowed to freak the fuck out about that? My mother lied! She stole my phone and spewed hateful things at the only woman who has ever loved me, effectively breaking her heart and keeping me from my daughter. Yea, I’m pissed.”
“Who else are you mad at?” Booker’s quiet voice ignites something in me.
“My mother. Who else is there?”
“You sure?”
I’m supposed to say yes. I’m supposed to be sure. My mother is the villain, no doubt. But instead, I turn and take a swing at the wall, my fist crashing through the drywall as it crumbles to the floor. The pain barely registers. I cry out and pound the wall again. “Myself. How could I have missed nearly a year of her life? How could I repeat my own father’s mistake? How fucking random was it that Willa ended up cleaning here one day? I could have gone my entire life not knowing I had a kid. Jesus.”
“Yea? Anyone else?”
I turn to Whit. He doesn’t look bothered in the least at the destruction I’ve caused, neither do Booker and Ty. “Who else is there?”
“You tell me.”
I don’t answer, just return my attention to the bag and throw all my anger into it. Sweat blurs my vision, or maybe it’s the tears that are welling in my eyes as I lose myself in the rhythm of hitting the bag.
