I walk to my truck, and only when I’m behind the wheel do I let the anger rage out of me. I punch the steering wheel until my knuckles are bloody. My body is numb, my mind all over the place with the questions I want to ask and the answers I need to know as I start the truck. The tears just leak down my face as I make my way home.
Home. I laugh bitterly. What the fuck does that word even mean? Do I have a home? Where do I belong? I ignore the ringing of the phone on the passenger seat beside me. It sits right on the papers that have just destroyed my life.
Pulling up to the house, I don’t know what’s going on inside. I grab the papers in my hand, gripping them so hard the cuts on my knuckles open again and some blood drips out. I walk up the steps that I called home since Uncle Beau and Mom got married. With every step I take, I feel my feet get heavier and heavier.
Opening the door, I hear the hush of whispers. I forgot they were going to surprise me. I walk into the room, and Uncle Beau spots me right away. I look at him, and anger just rips through me. My chest starts to heave as though I’ve run a marathon.
“He’s not my father?” I point at Jacob who I thought was my father. I look at the four people who I trusted with my life—Jacob, Kallie, Beau, and Mom—but none of them say anything, so I ask them again, this time my voice getting higher. “He’s not my father?”
My mother looks at me with tears rolling down her cheeks. “It’s a lie,” I tell them and finally look around to see that most of the town has come out to celebrate my birthday, but I don’t care. “It’s all been a fucking lie.” The words cut me as I say them.
“Ethan.” My mother is the first one to say something. “Let’s go somewhere and we can talk.”
I laugh now, but no one is actually laughing, and my chest hurts. “So what, we can bury the truth some more?” I yell.
“Ethan.” Beau says my name, and I turn to him. “I think you need to calm down.”
“Uncle Beau,” I say. “Well, at least that part is true, right?”
I then look at my father. “You took the fall for someone else.” I shake my head. “Why? Why would you do that?” I ask, and all of it clicks into place. “You lost Kallie because of this. When I’m not even your son.”
“You might not have my blood running through your veins, but you are mine,” he says loudly and through clenched teeth.
“I am not yours!” I scream as the tears fall. “My whole life has been a lie.”
“No,” my mother sobs out. “Nothing was a lie. You grew up surrounded by love,” she says, opening her arms to motion to all the people who stand around, most of them in shock. “It doesn’t matter what your DNA is.”
“Of course, you would say that,” I say. “You had the chance to tell me the truth my whole life,” I say. “You had the choice to tell me the truth, and all you did was lie to my face. Every single time you said you loved me, it was a lie.” I look around the room. “Take it in, people, take it all in. Ethan McIntyre is not even a McIntyre. I’m a Huntington.”
“Ethan, that is enough.” Beau steps forward, trying to touch me, but I move out of his reach.
“Why is it enough?” I ask, shaking my head. “You know what is enough? Enough with all the lies and secrets. Enough with pretending that I’m one person when at the end of the day I am no one.” I turn and walk away.
“You.” I point at my mother. “You destroyed me.” She gasps out and falls, but Beau catches her. “I never want to see or hear from you again. It’s over.” I walk out of the house to the sounds of sobs and crying echoing, and I make it far enough before I feel a hand on my arm.
“Don’t you walk away from me, son,” my father says.
“I’m not your son,” I say. “You are nothing to me. Just like her.” I point at my mother, who’s now standing on the porch.
I get behind the wheel and peel away from the house. Someone shouts my name, but I block it out. I block everything out, even when the phone rings on the seat, and it’s Emily calling. She deserves better, I think to myself. She deserves to have a man who knows who he is. So I do the only thing I can do. I roll down the window and toss the phone as I drive out of town, never once looking back.
Chapter Two
Ethan
Five years later
A beeping sound gets louder and louder, and then I hear voices. I try to open my eyes, but the pain rips through me. I groan, not sure whether they will hear me, but I do it anyway.
“I think he’s waking up,” someone says, and I try to move my hands to give them a signal. “He moved his finger.” I take a deep breath and concentrate on opening my eyes. The bright light
