Crave (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 5) Read online

  My head whipped in his direction, and my eyes narrowed. “No, of course I didn’t. I thought my son was dead. I thought Julián was Joaquín’s child, but never, never did I think he was mine. I believed with my whole heart that he was dead! I did a DNA test on him to see if he was my nephew. Do you really think I would do that, Grant? I have spent the last two years mourning my son, you have no idea what that was like.”

  I wanted to tell him how horrible it was and how, more often then not, I would cry myself to sleep. How I couldn’t even look at the scar on my stomach and not break down. I attempted to finish my thoughts, but tears overtook my voice.

  “How can I believe you, Mia? You’re full of secrets. You’ve hidden every aspect of your life from me. Everything. Your rape, why you broke up with me, that you were pregnant. That I could be his father.”

  I closed my eyes, hiding my shame. He was right. I’d fucked up everything. If only he could understand me, he’d realize I never meant to hurt him. I had been trying to protect him. He didn’t need to go through the pain and fear and heartache that I had. I was trying to save him.

  “I have nothing to say for myself. This is all my fault. Had I told you I was pregnant, I would’ve never had the baby in San Francisco. I don’t know what to say. But I’m not lying, I swear to God I thought he was dead.” I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

  Indecision crept across his face. I knew deep down he probably wanted to believe me, but I’d done something that was probably unforgivable.

  He looked away from me and cracked his knuckles. “Why would someone take our son? Tiffany was young. She could probably have her own kids someday. Plus she gave him away to her mom. Clearly she had no interest in being a mother. Think, Mia. Is there anything else you haven’t told me? Anything?”

  I hesitated to tell him my latest secret, but I was too emotionally spent to keep anything else inside. “Joaquín isn’t my biological brother.”

  His nostrils flared, and his voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. “What?”

  “Yeah. Like I told you, I tested Julián against Joaquín first. No match. I figured it was because the sample of Joaquín’s hair was old, so I sent in a sample of my own hair, hoping to prove that Julián was my nephew. Turned out there was no genetic similarities between them. None.”

  “Was the sample of Joaquín compromised?”

  “No, he tested two separate samples. Besides, it doesn’t matter, does it? So what if he isn’t my biological brother. Maybe he was adopted? Or I was? He’s still my brother. Every memory I have of my childhood was with him.”

  Grant’s mouth slackened. “Don’t you see, Mia? Everything matters. We learn in the Teams that there is no such thing as a coincidence. Let’s focus on the facts. We know our son was kidnapped after you gave birth. Somehow, Tiffany got our son and gave him away to her mother to raise. Joaquín knew about you being raped and he is now sitting in jail, accused of murdering Tiffany. He knows more than he’s telling us. He’s connected too closely to all of this—”

  “Don’t even go there. Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood and put distance between us, rage consuming my every step. I knew what he didn’t want to say. He thought Joaquín was involved with the kidnapping, which was something I refused to entertain. “The only logical explanation is that Joaquín found out that Tiffany kidnapped my son, so he murdered her. That means he lied to me about killing her, and I ruined my life for his lie, but he did it to protect our son, his nephew. He’s my hero if that is true. But me transforming into Ksenya led us to our son.”

  “If that were the case, why didn’t he tell you about him? Why hide it! If he were willing to go to such extremes to protect our son, why hide it! Besides, he had no idea you would do all this.”

  “Maybe he thought telling me would put me in danger. Or put Julián in more danger.”

  “Because keeping it from you kept you so safe, right? Did you forget his attorney attacked you?”

  Dammit, he was right that something didn’t add up, but not about Joaquín being involved. “There is something we are missing.” I turned to the window and bit my bottom lip. Then, after a second of indecision, I knew what we had to do. “We just need to go ask him what he knows about Julián.”

  Grant closed the distance between us and clutched my wrist. “Over my dead fucking body. And even if what you think is true, he won’t or can’t tell us. He’s about to go on trial for a murder he probably committed. Our son is missing. We have no idea who kidnapped him from that hospital, why they did it, or where he is. Until we figure that out, we aren’t telling Joaquín about him. Keep your goddamn mouth shut. Do you fucking understand me?”

  He released his grip on me, but I stayed in his space, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do and what to say! Even though Joaquín and I aren’t blood related, he’s still my fucking brother!”

  Grant didn’t back down. I’d never seen him this pissed. He bared his teeth at me. “I’m not fucking playing with you anymore. You robbed me the chance of ever getting to know Elías when you had him. If I’d known you were pregnant, I would’ve never let you out of my fucking sight. If I’d been at the hospital, I’d have been right next to you, taking care of our son. You owe me this. Let me fucking handle it.”

  I gulped hard. He was right . . . again. Even so, he was being a complete jackass.

  “Julián is my son! I carried him for nine months, and I have spent every minute of every day for the last two years missing him. You only found out you had a son today. I have every fucking right in the world to find out what happened, so stop acting like this is all about you!”

  His face was red, and his brows were furrowed. I exhaled, forcing myself to calm down. He was furious. I was furious. Yelling at each other wasn’t helping anything.

  “No matter how much you hate me right now, we are in this together,” I said, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. “He’s our child. I would never have kept him away from you had I known the truth. I had intended to test his DNA, and if he was yours, I was going to immediately tell you, beg your forgiveness for leaving you, and pray you would take me back. They told me he died, Grant. How could I put that heartbreak on you? Tell me. How?”

  He looked at me, maybe for the first time since I walked back into his life as Ksenya, and let my question hang heavy in the air between us. “Fine,” he finally relented, as his shoulders dropped, and he finally lowered his voice. “We can go see your brother. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  Well, today Mitch took me to Rafael’s where I got high, Mitch kissed me, Mitch drove me here.

  I shook my head, a knot of guilt building in my stomach, but I couldn’t speak. It wasn’t relevant really—none of that had anything to do with finding our son.

  “Promise me, Mia. Say the words.”

  Before they had the chance to choke me, I spit the words out. “I promise.”

  “Good. Listen, I’m going to ask Kyle to hire some former Team guys to trace Tiffany’s mother, her name is Lorraine. I just hope to God she hasn’t harmed him, but she seemed to love him. Clearly my judgment sucks. I fell in love with you.”

  Just like that, all my guilt for holding back information fell away, and a spark of anger flickered.

  “Real mature, Grant.”

  He looked out the window. “Where’s your car?”

  Fuck. “Oh, I took an Uber.”

  He cocked his head and lifted a single eyebrow. “Why?”

  I forced myself not to bite my lip. “I was so overwhelmed finding out that Julián was my son, I didn’t want to drive.” That seemed reasonable when I said it.

  Grant shook his head and went upstairs while I stayed planted where I was. Numb. I sent a quick text to Mitch to tell him that I was okay and that he could head home. Then I deleted my texts to him.

  After a few minutes, Grant came downstairs, holding a tiny kitten. She was orange and white and fluffy.

  “The only thing
I found in this place was this fucking cat.”

  I grabbed her from his arms. She let out a tiny meow, and I stroked her until she purred. “Can we take her?”

  “Of course. She’ll die here if we don’t. Plus, she was probably our son’s.”

  The ride home was torturous. Hero wouldn’t stop sniffing the cat. I wished she had driven her car—that way I wouldn’t have been forced to listen to Mia’s apologies or that damn cat’s meow. I didn’t believe her Uber story for a minute, but I didn’t press.

  I drove to a pet store where we bought the requisite cat supplies: litter box, scratching post, cat food, and those stupid feather things. A fucking cat. Hero would probably treat her like a chew toy, and I would have to protect the ball of fluff. But that stupid cat was the only connection I had to my son so I’d deal with it.

  We arrived at my place and quickly corralled the cat into my small office.

  Mia sat in a chair, holding the fluffy orange thing. “What are we naming her?”

  “I don’t care. You choose.”

  “Okay. How about Curry?”

  “Sure, whatever. I’m going to make some calls.” I left them inside my office and shut the door.

  Hero pawed at the door. “Sorry, buddy.” I gave him a treat and grabbed my phone to call Kyle. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Hey man, what’s up?”

  “I need a favor. Can you call that PI you know to help me find someone? Tiffany’s mother? Her name is Lorraine, but I don’t have a last name for her.” I rattled off all the other details I could remember: her address, what kind of car I saw in the driveway when I met my son, what the neighbor had said about her leaving. “She pulled up stakes sometime last week, and I need to find her.”

  Kyle paused. “Sure thing. I’m on it. Man, how’s Joaquín? Have you heard from his sister? I feel bad that we never helped her out.”

  I stared at Mia who had just emerged from my office. She poured herself a glass of water and curled up in a ball on my sofa while Hero lay at her feet.

  This wasn’t the time to tell Kyle about Mia. I changed the subject. “Gotta run. Let me know when you hear anything.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  I hung up and grabbed a beer from the fridge, lingering in the kitchen as I took the first sip from the bottle.

  I believed Mia that she didn’t know that her son was alive, but ultimately, her decisions caused us to lose our son. Could I put myself in her shoes? I thought about that question as I strode into the living room and took a seat on the opposite end from her.

  She had been raped when I had been injured. I understood why she hadn’t told me about that. I would’ve been livid but helpless to do anything. Then she’d found out that she was pregnant and didn’t know who the father was, which must have been terrifying. So she left, went through the pregnancy alone, had a rough delivery where she became very ill, and then she was told her son had died.

  She could’ve died, alone. I would’ve never recovered from her death. I wished I could’ve been there for her.

  I took another sip of my beer.

  Mia had always been proud. Always tried to be independent. Strong. Knowing her, she probably really thought she had been saving me from some kind of burden or stress.

  But I would’ve done anything for her.

  I still would do anything for her.

  I thought the drive to protect her left me when she walked out of my hospital room, but clearly, it hadn’t. I’d slept with her. I’d agreed to help her. Sure, I pretended there weren’t any emotions involved and it was just fucking.

  That was a lie.

  Something inside me was unwilling to let me actually cut my ties with her, and that made me think that maybe . . . one day, I would be able to move past all the fucking hurt that woman caused me. After all, we were now in this together. We were Julián’s parents. If there was any hope I could learn to trust Mia again, I had to try.

  For Julián.

  Mia moved closer and looked up at me, eyes pleading. “What are we going to do?”

  “Kyle’s going to try to find Tiffany’s mom. We’ll find him, I promise.”

  She gulped and leaned into me.

  I put my arm around her. “What do you think about Autumn? She was the one who led us both to Julián. Do you think she knew he was our kid?”

  Her face crinkled. “Autumn? You suspect Autumn? No, I don’t think she knew. She’s a naïve stripper—she seems too nice to hide something like that. She doesn’t even know I’m Mia.”

  “She knows who I am, though. Thinking back on that night Tiffany died, I almost feel like Autumn targeted me. Just the way you did at Panthers.”

  She lightly punched me in the gut. “I didn’t target you at Panthers, buddy. You zeroed in on me the second you walked into the door.”

  I tickled her until she laughed. “Yeah? Because you’re irresistible.” I kissed her and she climbed onto my lap. I enjoyed our chemistry and brief levity in this incredibly fucked up situation.

  I pushed her hair out of her face. “But seriously, maybe Autumn wanted to tell me she thought he was my son and then chickened out. She maybe took you because she knew we were seeing each other so she hoped you would tell me.”

  “I think you’re crazy. No way did she know Julián was your kid. It was just a coincidence that she told us both. She likes you,” she teased.

  I didn’t even respond to that comment, because what was I going to say? Autumn did like me, and she’d been all over me the night of Tiffany’s murder. We didn’t fuck, but there was flirting and drinking and laughing. It hadn’t bothered me that when we went to a room she had shot down my advances. I’d never been one to get pissed about not getting laid, especially when the girl was actually fun. Looking back on everything Autumn and I had talked about that night, something hit me that I hadn’t realized until now. Autumn was much smarter than she pretended to be.

  So smart, I remembered asking her why she had chosen to be a stripper. She’d never really given me an answer.

  Mia interrupted my thoughts. “What are you going to say to Joaquín? Can I ask him about not being my brother?”

  “Yes, I want to hear what he says. Maybe you’re right, and he was adopted. But don’t breathe a word about Julián. Joaquín told us both at the jail that you had an ex name Julián. Do you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  A chill ran through me. “Exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means that he knows about Julián and didn’t tell us. There’s a possibility your brother killed Tiffany after finding out that she had stashed our son at her mom’s.” I pounded the rest of my beer. “Or, there’s a possibility that he’s involved in something else.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. Damn, she still couldn’t believe that Joaquín could be capable of anything shady.

  “So why visit him?”

  “Because I want to see how he reacts when you tell him about the DNA test. Maybe it will trigger something with him—maybe he will suspect we found out about Julián and let something slip. Just trust me.”

  “I do trust you.” Mia looked up at me. “I’m so sorry, Grant. Sorry about everything. Sorry for leaving you, lying to you, getting this stupid plastic surgery.”

  I stared deeply into her eyes and inhaled her familiar citrusy scent. If I closed my eyes and just breathed her in, I could still sense Mia. My Mia. Who she was. How much she’d loved me. How much I’d loved her. How she always knew how to calm me down no matter how shitty of a day I’d had, how she’d always believed in me.

  I needed to believe in her.

  “It’s okay, babe. I’m not going to lie and I say I understand what you did, but I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  “I didn’t.” She pressed her palms to her eyes. “I need you to believe me that I didn’t know he was alive. I would never, ever give my son away or keep him from you.”

  I placed a few kisses on her head and then embraced her a
s she sobbed into my arms.

  And then I finally said the words she needed me to say.

  “Baby, I believe you.”

  And was surprised to find that I meant them.

  A struggle built in my chest. I wanted to forgive her, maybe even fall in love with her again, but I could never allow myself to become that dependent on anyone. Right then wasn’t the time to figure it out, so I said nothing. I kissed her face, her neck, tasted her salty tears and then I scooped my girl up and carried her into the bedroom.

  Grant placed me down on his bed, slowly gently, with no urgency. Every time we’d had sex recently, it had only been fucking. Amazing fucking. He’d fucked me so fast, so hard, so deep it made my head spin in pleasure.

  But this time, everything seemed different. His face softened when he looked at me. No more angry scowl or lustful hunger. It was almost as if I was in a time warp back to how we used to be.

  He brushed a lock of hair away from my face as he slowly lowered to kiss me. A sweet kiss. Soft, loving. His hand made its way down my body, slowly, oh so slowly, stopping only to caress my breast before moving to trace the outline of my waist and eventually settling on my thigh.

  His beard scraped the palm of my hand as I cupped his face. I stopped and considered his eyes, which were just a little more trusting and loving than they had been since I’d came back.

  I seized that moment, taking advantage of this opportunity that he seemed to be truly open to me. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. I’m so happy that Julián is your son.”

  He pressed his finger to my lips, bidding my silence. With his free hand, he peeled off his shirt. A smile graced my face as he moved his fingers to let his shirt fall to the floor. I would never tire of staring at his chest, ever. He motioned for me to lift my arms, and I did as he slipped my T-shirt over my head, taking my bra with it, and flung them off the bed.

  His attention turned to my breasts. He thumbed my left nipple and sucked on my right one. I let out a moan as he lightly nibbled my bud.

  His mouth detached from my sensitive skin. “You’re so beautiful, babe. You were always beautiful.”