Under the Lights Page 35

I stepped back and motioned him inside.

“What’s wrong?” I repeated.

He rubbed his face with both hands and inhaled deeply before looking at me.

“I know who my dad is,” he said with such angst in his tone it almost didn’t sound like him.

Oh. This wasn’t what I had been expecting. At least someone wasn’t dead. Although the answer to this might be just as bad. It sure looked like it was. Asking him who didn’t seem appropriate. So I waited quietly.

He took a few moments to stare off down my hallway as if he was still in shock. I wondered if he was even going to be able to tell me. This was bad. Hugging him didn’t seem like the right thing to do either.

After what seemed like an eternity he turned his gaze to me. “I’m a Lawton after all,” he said.

So his dad was his dad. Was that such a terrible thing?

“You aren’t happy about that?” I asked.

He let out an empty laugh. “I’m a Lawton, but the man in that house is still not my father.”

Now I was confused. Completely. Questioning him seemed like a bad idea, so I just waited again for him to decide how and what he was going to tell me.

“This is so fucked up.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair with a look in his eyes that bordered on disbelief and anger.

Who the heck was his father? The suspense wasn’t outweighing my concern for him, but I still wanted to know. He had me more than curious.

“I hardly knew him. There’s pictures of me with him, and I could tell in the photos that he loved me. But I understand my father’s hate for him now. The way my grandmother talks about him as if he were the devil. They hated him as much as they despise me.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking. That was insensitive. Unable to not do anything, I closed the distance between us and slipped my hand over his in a silent show of support. He turned his hand over and squeezed mine as if I were his only hope on a sinking ship.

“My grandfather wasn’t my grandfather. Jeremiah Gunner Lawton was my biological father.” He paused, then looked at me while his words rang in my head. “My mother slept with her father-in-law.”

Oh God.

“It’s all mine. He left it all to me legally. All. Of. It.”

All of what? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t.

“My father thought he could control my mother enough to hide the fact, but she stood there and threatened to announce it to the world and give me the means to go to court over it. The old man actually looked capable of murder. He threatened to send me off to a boarding school, and she laughed this crazed, manic laugh and informed him that if I chose to, I could have him removed from the house. Me. Remove that man from the house. Shit, Willa. What the hell? Am I even awake?”

I was beginning to think maybe I wasn’t awake myself. I imagine he felt that way more so than me. “Is he still there?” I asked. I knew his hate for the man, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had sent him packing.

Gunner looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “I can’t kick Rhett’s dad out of the house. I don’t want the world to know the truth. I’m not just a bastard. I’m my grandfather’s bastard. Jesus this is fucked.”

He had a point. This was fucked. Very much so. I tightened the hold I had of his hand. It wasn’t much, but it was all the support I knew to give him. This time I stared off at nothing while the facts listed themselves in my head, and I was sure I wasn’t dreaming. Gunner remained quiet as well. There weren’t words for this really. My heart hurt for him. For the boy everyone thought had it all and the persona he’d lived his whole life. I wanted to hold him and fix it, and that emotion scared me. My feelings for Gunner ran much deeper than I had realized.

“Rhett left. He yelled and called Mom a whore, then left. She’s locked away in her room crying now, and the asshole who is apparently my . . . brother, not my father . . . shit.” He paused and shook his head at the thought. “He left the house too. The whole damn house has exploded.”

The front door opened, and we both jerked our attention at the sound. Nonna was home. She was the only one who walked across the grounds and came in the front door. Especially unannounced.

I slid my hand from his, and he tucked both his in his pockets just before she walked into the kitchen. She looked at Gunner with compassion in her eyes. “Go on and y’all have a seat. I’ll feed you your dinner here,” she said, holding up a plate of food she’d brought back with her. “I reckoned you’d be here.” She then finished, turning her gaze to me. She wasn’t angry, but there was a gentle warning there. She’d overheard them at the big house. I wondered if she had known the truth. She’d been with them for so long, could secrets like that be hidden from her? I doubted it.

“Y’all go on and eat. I got some chocolate dream pie in the fridge. If’n you want to stay on the sofa tonight, it’s yours,” she said to Gunner, then went about the kitchen fixing glasses of sweet tea.

“Did you know?” Gunner asked her as we both sat down at the table.

She paused and didn’t look back at us. Her attention stayed on the glasses in front of her. “Had my suspicions,” she finally replied.

That was enough for him. He didn’t ask more. We ate in silence, and when bedtime came, he slept on the sofa.

I Didn’t Want His Life. Not Any of It.

CHAPTER 30

BRADY

Neither Willa nor Gunner were at school. It took me until third period to confirm this and then get concerned. Something was wrong. I tossed my books into my locker and headed for the back hall, where band and carpentry classes were held. No one would be there until after lunch today, and it had an exit door. The only one I could get out of and not get caught.

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