Cam was looking up at her, curious. I could see his brain working. He was aware that Dean and I had been dating, so this woman was confusing him. This was just the beginning of his confusion. I wanted to shelter him from it all. He continued to walk into the penthouse and I watched him as he took in his surroundings.

  When I reached the door, the woman looked at me, and her smile was genuine. Kind even. Not something I’d expected to encounter today. At least, not at this apartment.

  “I’m Blaire Finlay,” she said, and the name registered as well as where I had seen her face before.

  This was Rush’s wife. Dean’s daughter-in-law. She was even more beautiful in person than the pictures I’d seen of her splashed across magazines when she married Rush.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I replied sincerely. “Since you’re here, I guess you already know who I am.”

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Yes,” she replied. “Rush thought it would be easier for you if another woman was here.”

  That was thoughtful of Rush. I was surprised. Mostly because Dean had told his son and also because he’d allowed Rush to advise him in anything. It didn’t seem very Dean-like.

  “Dean left his sample already. He isn’t here,” she said gently.

  Knowing I wasn’t about to face him again was a relief and a heartache, all at once. He was avoiding me. He didn’t want to be in the same room as me.

  “I understand,” I managed to get out over the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “Come this way,” Blaire said, and we walked to the living room.

  Cam had a frown on his face. “Dean isn’t here.”

  “He had to run some errands,” Blaire said.

  “Oh,” Cam said, looking let down. “Who are you?” he then asked Blaire.

  “I’m Dean’s daughter-in-law, Blaire,” she replied.

  That seemed to pacify Cam. He nodded, then walked back over to where I was standing.

  “Didn’t he know we were coming?” he asked me.

  An older man with a white lab coat walked out of the kitchen then. “Oh good, you’re here.”

  Blaire glanced at Cam and then me. I could see by her expression that she’d assumed Cam knew about the paternity test. Damn Dean for not discussing this process with me. Cam was a kid. He couldn’t just be expected to handle this kind of information lightly.

  “Dr. Moses, uh …” Blaire began.

  The older man beamed at Cam. “I don’t think this is necessary, and I am surprised Dean is demanding it. The resemblance between Rush at that age and Cam is uncanny. Dean is blind,” he said, then looked at me. “Or he was preoccupied.” The older man winked, then turned his attention back to Cam.

  “Just need a little cheek swab, and then I’ll be on my way,” Dr. Moses said to him, then looked over at Blaire. “That sandwich was excellent, dear. Thank you.”

  Blaire nodded at him, but her focus was on Cam. She was worried. It was on her face. I wanted to cry because in this moment, I felt alone, and this stranger was making me feel as if I had support. Like someone else cared.

  Dr. Moses opened a case and sat down on the sofa. He took out a sterilized swab. “All right, Cam, open up.”

  Cam did as he had been told without question, but the uncertainty on his face was obvious. The swab took only moments, and then Dr. Moses was putting his things away and standing up. Cam watched the older man, and then he looked at Blaire and at last to me. He was waiting for an explanation. No one gave him one. My heart ached for the conversation we were going to have as soon as we got back to our apartment. I would have to tell him. This wasn’t how I’d wanted to do it. But Dean had forced it with his actions.

  I saw Blaire go over and speak quietly with Dr. Moses.

  “It’s time to go,” I told Cam.

  “Are you going to tell me what just happened?” he asked me.

  I nodded. “Yes. I will explain it once we are in our apartment.”

  Cam paused and looked back at the doctor. “I’m not sick, am I?”

  I shook my head, hating he was worried about something like that. “You are perfectly fine.”

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but he walked over to me, and for the first time in a long time, my son slipped his hand into mine. It wasn’t something Cam did anymore. Holding my hand was for babies. Or at least, that was what he had said the last time I tried to hold his hand. Now, he needed my assurance. I was his safe place, and the fact that he was reaching out for that security made my guilt gnaw at me.

  We started to walk around the sofa, and Blaire’s gaze found mine.

  “Thank you,” I said to her. “We need to go talk about things. It was nice to meet you.”

  “It was nice to meet the both of you too,” she replied.

  We were almost to the door when I heard heels hitting the marble floor. Pausing, I looked back, and Blaire appeared.

  She looked at Cam, then back to me. “Finlay men can be … difficult, but … when they love, it’s forever.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Because Dean Finlay did not love me. She misunderstood the situation.

  I simply nodded and opened the door to step outside. Free of the confines of the penthouse I would never spend another happy moment in again. That door was closed to me. I prayed, one day, I could find a way to move on.

  thirty-four

  dean

  The whiskey in my hand had been my friend for the past forty-eight hours. I stood, staring out the window of my living room, while Rush sat on the sofa, waiting on me to respond to his questioning. I didn’t have an answer for him. He was going to be waiting awhile.

  “Dean?” He said my name again.

  I glanced back at him. “Can’t you let me wait in fucking silence?” I asked him.

  “I’ve given you silence, and your time is up,” he said. “This isn’t just about you. It doesn’t only affect you. There is a kid. Your kid. According to Blaire and Dr. Moses, he looks just like me at that age. That means, I’ve got a brother. A kid. One who not only looks like a Finlay, but also got your talent.”

  These were things that I had thought of already. The first time I had seen Cam, I’d thought he looked familiar, and then I’d thought it was because of the photos in their apartment. Now, I knew. He did look like Rush had at that age. They had the same smile. How the fuck had I missed it? Then, there was Cam’s talent on the drums. It was uncanny. It wasn’t average. He was gifted. He loved the drums the way I had once loved them. It was what he wanted to do most in life. I had been the same.

  Fuck! He was nine years old.

  “Nine years, Rush. She took nine fucking years away from me.”

  Rush didn’t say anything, and I turned to look back at him.

  “Why do I feel like you’re taking her side? First Blaire and now you,” I said accusingly.

  Rush shrugged. “I didn’t meet her. But I trust my wife. She’s an excellent judge of character. Plus, she made some damn good points.”

  “Fuck her points!” I roared. “If this is my kid, he has lived a life of poverty. He didn’t grow up in a mansion on the beach. He lived in God knows where when he was born. He has known hunger. My kid has been hungry. He’s had a hard life. He didn’t get the life I gave you!”

  The anger began to rise up again as I thought of what kind of life a teenage girl would have put my son through. While I had been living in luxury and the best money could buy, he had been living without everything.

  “I grew up in a home with a mother who was mentally and emotionally damaging. The only love from a parent I got was from a rock star who was often stoned or drunk when I was around him. I had everything money could buy, but what I really wanted was a fucking mom. One who tucked me in at night. One who was there to hold me when I cried. One who I could depend on. I didn’t get that, Dean. But … my brother did. Poverty or not, the kid has a damn good mom. I’m not just going by Blaire’s assessment of her either. I’m going by what the private investigator you put on her ass two days ago told us. He praised her, Dean. He said she was an excellent parent. So, be mad at her. Be furious if it makes you feel better, but remember, you fucked a seventeen-year-old girl. A foster kid at that. And you don’t remember it. She had no one. She was a kid. Yet here she is, ten years later, with your son. He’s healthy, happy, and fucking talented.”

  Rush stood up then and pointed a finger at me. “If he is my brother—and I fully believe he is—then Brielle will be welcome in my home. She’ll be invited to holidays. She’ll become my wife’s friend because Blaire will want that. She won’t be excluded. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “She could have contacted me,” I interrupted him.

  Why didn’t he care that my child had been kept from me?

  “How the fuck was she supposed to do that? She was a kid! A homeless kid! Jesus, Dad, look at it from her side. How was she supposed to do that? And fuck it! You should have asked for her ID. Made sure she was legal.”

  “What about when she saw me again? She didn’t tell me then. What’s your excuse for her? Hmm?” I asked him.

  “It had been nine years,” he said. “She’d been his only parent for nine years. She was an adult, and she was protecting her son. You’re Dean Finlay. She was scared. Scared you’d change their world.”

  “She let me into his life. She let me fuck her. She let me care,” I replied, suddenly very tired.

  “And you are holding that against her? You should be counting yourself lucky that she trusted you enough to let you near him. She didn’t hide him from you. She let you into his life. But first, she was his mother. She had to make sure it was safe. You fucking her was her own bad judgment,” Rush said, then shook his head. “Sometimes, I forget how differently you view the world. The majority of your life, you’ve lived in fame. Well, Dean, welcome to the real world, where people have to think about their choices. They have to weigh the outcomes. They can’t just make up their minds and know that, if it’s a shit show, someone will clean it up for them. We aren’t all rock stars.”

  My phone rang in that moment, silencing us both. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. I knew the number. I’d been waiting on this call.

  “Hello?” I said as Rush watched me closely.

  “The boy is yours, Dean,” Dr. Moses said on the other line. “Wasn’t a question in my mind after getting a look at him, but this is proof. He’s a Finlay. He’s your Finlay.”

  “Thanks,” I said and ended the call.

  When my eyes met Rush’s, he nodded, not needing to hear it from me.

  “You’ve got a week. One week. Decide what you’re going to do. Because in one week, I will meet my brother with or without you.”

  I stood there, holding my empty whiskey glass, as my oldest son walked to my private entrance before leaving me alone.

  Cam was mine.

  The kid was mine.

  And his mom … I didn’t know how to move on from this.

  All I knew was, I missed them. Both of them. Cam and Brielle.

  thirty-five

  brielle

  Today, Cam and I went to the beach. We carried a picnic. We took the time to process it all. I let him ask questions, and I answered them all truthfully. He was himself at times, laughing and playing in the waves. Then, other times, he was quiet, and I knew he was thinking.

  Being told that the rock star you idolized was your father was a lot for anyone to process. Especially a nine-year-old.

  While we ate our turkey sandwiches, he asked me if Dean was mad at me. I had sworn to myself that I’d tell him the truth. Even if it was difficult.

  I nodded. “He is. But because he feels robbed. Of knowing you.”

  Cam frowned. “You tried to tell him about me. He’s a rock star. How did he expect you to tell him?”

  I shrugged. “I think it’s more about not telling him sooner. Since he moved into our building.”

  Cam didn’t say anything for a long time. When he finally did, he slid closer to me. “I’m not mad at you, Mama.”

  Those simple words were enough. I could survive it all, knowing he forgave me. He understood.

  The drive home, we talked about his camping trip and his moving up to the junior high marching band. Dean wasn’t mentioned once, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. I wanted Cam to feel free to talk to me about whatever was bothering him. He didn’t have to protect me from Dean. I was his mother. I wanted to know how he was feeling about all this.

  After we got home and had dinner, I put away the leftovers and washed the dishes, and Cam went to get his bath. He hadn’t mentioned Dean again. I knew that today or tomorrow, the results from the paternity test would come back. I expected a call from Dean or maybe Blaire. Possibly even his lawyer.

  When there was a knock on the door, I dried my hands on a towel, then walked to answer the door. Peeking through the peephole, I saw Dean standing there. I stepped back and took several deep breaths, then reached for the lock and unlatched it before opening the door.

  Dean’s eyes locked on mine, and I prepared myself for whatever it was he was here to say. I was strong. I could handle this. Nothing he said could destroy me. I had survived worse.

  “He’s mine,” Dean said.

  “Yes,” I replied. I had never doubted it.

  “Does he know?” Dean asked me.

  Is he serious? What did he think was going to happen after the cheek swab in his apartment?

  “He’s smart. The paternity test wasn’t something he didn’t notice,” I said.

  Dean winced. As if he hadn’t thought of that.

  “Can I come in?” he asked me.

  I glanced back to see Cam wasn’t in there and looked back to Dean. “Okay,” I replied, stepping back to let him inside.

  He walked past me, and I hated that his nearness affected me. I hadn’t thought he would come to tell me the results himself. Not after the way he had acted since I’d told him. I’d been prepared for something more formal.

  “Is he here?” Dean asked me.

  “We spent the day at the beach. He’s getting a shower,” I replied, closing the door.

  “How did you tell him?” he asked.

  I turned to look at Dean. “The best way I could. I explained it, leaving out the sexual details, and let him ask me questions.”

  Dean nodded, then sighed as he looked around the room. “I handled things wrong,” he said. “I just hadn’t been prepared.”

  I wasn’t going to tell him it was okay and offer forgiveness. I didn’t feel as if I could do that just yet. I needed time.

  “Brielle.” He said my name as he reached out a hand to me.

  I stepped back. I didn’t want him to touch me. This wasn’t something I could move on from. However, the stricken look on his face was hard to see. I shifted my gaze toward the television. The local news was still on.

  “What is it you want me to say?” he asked me.

  I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t sure I could and make smart choices. “What do you want to say? I don’t want anything from you. Cam is our son. We can discuss how you want to be involved in his life.”

  “Don’t say that,” he said softly.

  My eyes swung to his of their own free will. “Say what?”

  “That you want nothing from me,” he said. “Because I have a list of things I want from you.”

  I shook my head. “No. You don’t get to say that now. You … you …” I backed away from him. “You are Cam’s father. You tell me how much of his life you want to be a part of, and we will go from there.”

  Dean moved then, and his hand wrapped around my wrist. “Brielle,” he said in a pleading tone, “you dropped this on me out of nowhere. I felt lied to. Betrayed. Robbed. Can’t you see that? My world had been turned on its ear, and I needed to process it.”

  “Let go of me,” I said, trying not to soften toward him.

  I had to protect my heart, and this man had already crushed it once. I wasn’t over that, and it was a large, gaping wound I couldn’t even acknowledge. I had my son to think of first.

  “Brielle.” He said my name again, and I hated how hearing him say it made my heart spasm in my chest.

  “Let my mama go,” Cam shouted forcefully.

  I turned to look at him and saw him glaring at his father.

  He was protecting me. Something he shouldn’t feel the need to do.

  thirty-six

  dean

  I saw it then. The fierceness on his face. The fire in his eyes as my son stood there, glaring at me. How had I not seen it before? Except for the eyes, he looked exactly like Rush at that age. Even more so than Nate did.

  “It’s okay,” Brielle said in a soothing tone as she pulled her arm free of my grip.

  She moved toward him then. His gaze went from me to his mother. He was worried about her, and I knew in that moment that he’d face down anything to keep her safe.

  Pride swelled in my chest. I hadn’t expected it to hit me that hard. It was almost painful.

  “Why was he holding your arm?” he asked her, then shot a warning look in my direction.

  “He was just trying to talk to me. I was being hardheaded. You know how I am,” she said to him.

  “You’re not hardheaded,” he said to her, and then he looked at me. “Don’t make my mama cry again.”

  I looked at Brielle then. She didn’t acknowledge his threat. She was focused on him completely. She had cried. I’d made her cry. My chest felt as if someone had stuck a knife in it and twisted.

  “Cam,” her soft voice said with sternness, “this isn’t necessary. Dean is here to talk to us both.”

  “Why? Because his test came back? He knows you’re not lying?” The accusation in his tone was clear. He trusted his mother without question.

  Rush’s words came back to me. Reminding me of all I’d given him, but it wasn’t a mother. It wasn’t what he wanted most. I had given Rush all money could buy, but that hadn’t been a mother to love him. One that he would stand up for and protect.