Shaney covered his face with his palms. “Of course there is.” Getting information out of Silas was like having his appendix removed through his ass.
“Shaney, you weren’t born. I created you.”
Shaney’s head snapped up. That hadn’t even made the top ten list of what Shaney had expected to hear. For the first time in his entire life, Shaney was stunned into silence. Created him? As in, made him? Instead of cooking for nine months in a womb, where had he been baked? Visions of the time he had tried to bake his sister, Tamara’s Barbie in her Easy Bake Oven assailed him. When that hadn’t caused enough damage, he had put the doll on the barbeque grill. Plastic-colored skin had melted everywhere. Yuck!
Hudson’s face twisted in a combination of rage and incredulity. “Is that what my grandfather meant when he was talking about his ‘creation’ for all those years?”
“I created Shaney, not him! I filled in the last piece of the puzzle!” Eyes wild, Silas drew in a deep breath, and then quickly regained his composure. “Without me, Shaney wouldn’t exist,” he said smugly as he smoothed the lapels of his suit coat.
“No!” Hudson exclaimed. The stillness of his body belied the horror flashing in his darkened eyes. That look froze Shaney to his very bones. “It can’t be true, what my grandfather told me. What he asked me to do…”
Silas narrowed his eyes at Hudson as he advanced on him. “Just what did Hyrum ask you to do, Hudson?”
Shaney could see the ticking in Hudson’s jaw, the tension coiling in his muscles.
“I want to know! What did that old fool tell you to do?” Silas’ demand ripped through the air.
Shaney ran his fingers through his hair and clutched clumps of the strands. If he yanked hard enough, maybe the pain would knock his thought processes back online. No, the only way to do that was to get the heck out of Dodge. As Silas grabbed ahold of the front of Hudson’s shirt, Shaney took the opportunity to run down the stairs and out of the barn.
Outside, the wind bit at his bare skin, and the cold from the ground seeped into the soles of his bare feet. He ran down the driveway with Hudson calling for him to come back. Shaney yearned with every part of his being to return to the man he was sure he was falling in love with—the man he could never have.
Chapter Seventeen
Coming to the road, Shaney debated what to do next. Even though Hudson would most definitely hop into his truck and come for him, Shaney stayed on the road and started jogging toward town. He winced as stones cut into the soles of his feet. A light mist in the cool night air coated him, chilling him further. A set of headlights came over the rise ahead of him. Shaney contemplated diving into the ditch, but continued jogging since the vehicle was coming from the opposite direction of Hudson’s. The car passed, slowed to a stop, and then backed up quickly.
Balls, what now?
The window rolled down. “Shaney?”
Shaney froze. Just what he needed—the Antichrist.
“Shaney, what the hell are you doing?” Mr. Anderson climbed out of his sedan. He wore his customary shirt and tie. Did the man ever let go and relax?
Shaney forced a smile. Every inch of his skin was numb, and he’d lost the feeling in his feet.
“Uh, hey, Mr. Anderson. Just out for a jog. Keeping in shape.”
Mr. Anderson frowned. “With no shoes or a shirt?”
Shaney looked down, wiggling his toes. “Those runners in Africa do it. Thought I’d give it a try. And, well, the shirt... yeah.”
Mr. Anderson cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. Okay, next idea. Quick, before the man throws you in jail. Actually, the appeal of jail grew by the minute.
Shaney sighed, looking down at the ground. “I hooked up with this guy and went to his house. He got a bit aggressive. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I took off. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
The loudest snort he’d ever heard came from his probe officer. “Get in the car, Shaney.”
Shaney dove into the passenger seat. Mr. Anderson followed and then turned a concerned eye toward Shaney as he cranked up the heater. “This guy... he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Shaney shook his head, pointing the vents in his direction and lifting his feet to get the warm air on his icy toes. “No. I bailed when he started to get handsy. Could you drop me off at my mom’s house?” Shaney had questions for her about his origins. How did one start a conversation like that? “Hey, Mom? That freak Silas just told me he was at my creation. Know anything about that?”
None of what Silas said could be true. Shaney ignored the warning signs flashing. He looked nothing like his mother or sisters, plus, he was a midget in a family of giants. But people had commented on his resemblance to his father. Same color eyes and hair and... No. Knowing of Silas’ maniacal ramblings and Shaney’s doubts would only hurt his mother. He just needed to escape this freak show and get back to his semi-normal life. Maybe, in truth, Silas really hated his father and mother and had made this ridiculous story up as a form of revenge. Pretty messed up revenge if you asked Shaney.