With Every Heartbeat(157)

She sneered, meeting my gaze. “Surprise. You fucked sisters.”

“What?” Mr. Wilder and I said at the same time. We glanced at each other, both of our gazes full of accusation. Then we turned right back to her for clarification.

“Didn’t Zoey tell you?” she asked me.

“Tell me what?” I growled, because there was nothing to tell. There couldn’t be. Because Zoey and Cora were not... They couldn’t be…sisters.

No. Just…no.

“Dude, sisters?” Ten whispered to Noel, sounding awed. “I’ve never even had sisters.”

Spinning to him, I yelled, “They’re not sisters!”

“Oh, yes, we are.” Cora’s smirk turned my stomach. “Half sisters anyway. Dear old Dad over there could never keep it in his pants. And when Zoey’s mom started prancing around him, in heat…well, you know what happens when you don’t use protection.”

“Cora,” her father warned, his voice low.

“What?” She glared at him before turning back to taunt me. “I’m surprised Zoey never told you, Quinn. She seems like the type who can’t keep a secret.”

“Dear God,” Mr. Wilder murmured, looking sick to his stomach as he backed toward the wall and leaned a hand against it. “She knows, then? How long has Zoey known?”

He asked Cora the question, but I was the one who answered. “She doesn’t know.” She couldn’t.

Spotting the couch nearby, I sank down and dropped the box of Zoey’s things on the floor by my feet. At least two people grabbed my shoulders for support as I buried my face into my hands.

But how the hell was this happening? Zoey and Cora were sisters?

When the front door opened, I didn’t have to look up to know who entered. I could sense her presence tingling my skin. And then her voice came to me, trapping that lovely sound in my ears. A sigh of thanksgiving eased from me, knowing she was close, while at the same moment, my muscles tensed with dread. She had no idea what she’d just walked in on, and there was no way to warn her, no way to soften the blow.

“Mr. Wilder?” she said, clearly surprised by his presence. “What’s going on?”

Just hearing her say his name in that way and in that tone told me everything I needed to know. I looked up at her, and I knew Cora had been lying yet again.

“She doesn’t know,” I said when her seeking gaze caught mine. “Someone needs to tell her.”

I knew I couldn’t. I closed my eyes, unable to look her in the eye without wanting to break down, or break something…or someone.

But I also wanted to yank her into my arms and carry her from this apartment, this place that was causing her so much misery. Then again, I was afraid to go near her, too. The violence in me was so close to the surface. What if I reminded her of her father—er, the man who’d raised her as her father—and scared her?

Cora tried to get out of telling her, so I growled, “Tell her.”

Mr. Wilder’s face paled with panic. He wasn’t ready for his indiscretions to be made known, but Cora was already sighing and muttering, “Nine months before you were born, my dad fucked your mom.”

Surprise reined on Zoey’s face, but I could tell she still didn’t get it. Blinking repeatedly, she shook her head. “Excuse me?”

But then Caroline, whom I hadn’t even known had come in with Zoey and was holding her hand, gasped. “Oh my God.”

Zoey glanced at her, confused. “What?”

Caroline pointed at Mr. Wilder. “Cora’s dad looks exactly like...you.”

Zoey turned back to look at Mr. Wilder, who backed up a space until he stumbled into a wall. Her face paled and she shook her head. “Wait. What?” She glanced around the room, but when her gaze landed on me, I balled my hand and brought my fist to my mouth. I hated that lost expression on her face.

I still wanted to go to her, but I wasn’t sure how she’d receive me. I’d broken up with her after she’d almost been raped. She had every right in the world to hate me right now. Plus a vision of Cora’s throat right before I’d almost tried to strangle her swept through me. I was too violent for Zoey. Too much like the man who’d raised her.

She shifted her focus away from me, flitting it between Cora and her father. “That’s...that’s not possible. My father is... My father’s Ernest K. Blakeland.”

Mr. Wilder glanced down, but Cora sniffed. “No. Ernest K. Blakeland was simply married to your cheating whore of a mother. He knew her baby wasn’t his, but he couldn’t pin his anger on your mom because she went and died giving birth to you, which left only you for him to take his anger out on.”