Will they freak out?
I kind of hope they do. They deserve to lose time with her since they stole my time over and over again.
Sometimes, I hate them as much as I care about them. Our childhoods taught us a lot, but most of all, it taught me that we all wanted one girl, and it seemed our battle would be long-lived and tear us apart while also forcing us together.
Unlike the others, she was truly mine.
Colt was meant to be my wife.
And I can’t let go of that knowledge.
Even if she never knew.
The car rolls to a stop a while later and the door opens, letting us out. After sliding out, I take in my surroundings and am surprised at the home in front of me. Much like the Edgington Estate, it’s massive. This is like a castle, tucked away in a deserted land. It’s modern enough, not as medieval as I’d have thought.
Much like Elijah’s, you can tell it belongs to the Grims. If we truly looked back on history, we’d realize the Grims are in every monumental building. No one realizes, though, since they’re ghosts.
“Wow,” Colt lets out an awed gasp.
“Master Mortemor would like to speak with you both.”
Colt’s eyes connect with mine. In a what the fuck gesture. My lips tilt with amusement in response. She might be a good liar in a sense, but her face explicitly gives everything away.
Grabbing our bags and unwilling to leave them unmanned, I carry them inside with us. Colt stays close to me. Way closer than she would have after I ruined her wedding night.
We follow the driver to the door, where he hands us off to another man. This one is also in a suit, but his gun holster is visible. I’ve become accustomed to men with weapons since being at the Estate, but it’s not something I’d have ever thought would become normal. These men are hired guns.
Guards.
Plenty of them.
Walking toward where we’re led, my excitement is as large as my nerves.
“Are we at a mafia house?” Colt hisses, her hand gripping my arm now. I peer at her and notice the unease in her gaze.
“Ah, Bridger Clemonte,” Mortemor Grim announces as soon as we enter. Colt stands behind me like a scared calf and it’s so unlike her.
I’ve heard stories about Mortemor. Mostly bad, but I’m sure there are his sides as well. He’s elusive, intimidating, and covered from head to toe in tattoos.
While it wouldn’t bother many, in the Vestige, it has people frowning upon his choice of styling, much like Colt’s. I tug on her a little to get her to come out from behind me, but I feel her shake her head.
Twisting enough to see her, I cradle her face. “What’s wrong, Starless?” I use as gentle a voice as I can offer. It’s not super soft, my voice isn’t anything but a rasp on a good day, but it’s enough to get her attention.
“I… I know him?”
My stomach eats at itself. Is she getting her memories? Is she remembering him truly? But I don’t ask, fear sews my mouth shut, tapering it off with X-knots, keeping me silent.
“Colton,” Mortemor recalls. His voice is gentler now. Soft like a man should be when meeting his daughter as his daughter for the first time.
Is he prepared for the shitshow about to go down?
Is she?
Am I?
She uses my hands to cover her eyes. The need to kiss away her stress pushes me to turn entirely. Crouching partially, I lean into her and press my lips to her forehead.
“Speak,” I push, wanting her to know I’ll protect her regardless.
“He was at the funeral for Cassidy,” she explains. “He was in the cabin too.”
The first isn’t news to me, but he didn’t mention she saw him that day. She’d been distraught at Cassidy’s grave, spiraling soon after. The second, though… he didn’t mention being at Arcadia recently.
Rotating to glare at him, I notice he’s moved closer. “You risked that?” It comes out more like a jab. He knows what’s on the line, all I’ve risked, all I’ve sacrificed. To taint that and possibly out us before it’s time isn’t acceptable.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “You hurt her.”
My nostrils flare and I notice the devilish smile he offers in return. “You hurt what’s mine, you pay the price. Be glad you’re still breathing, Clemonte.”
Colt gasps and sucks in a loud breath. Pulling from me, she finally untucks herself from the fear of this man.
“Y-you,” she hisses. It’s not a reaction I was expecting. “I am not fucking you.” Those five words have both me and her dad chuckling in unison. Oh, man. If she could see her face.
Her forehead crinkles and her lip warbles. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s okay,” I say, but Mortem sidesteps me and comes closer to her.
“You’re not mine in that sense, Colton. I’m your father.”
Another surprised gasp leaves her and I step away to give them a moment.
Chapter Five
Colt
He did not just say what I think he said. I’m your father.
I spent the majority of my childhood wanting to know my dad, wondering why he didn’t love me enough to stay. Cass told me knowing would hurt me more.
Maybe he was onto something.
This man, who I’ve seen on two occasions, is standing here in the flesh. He mentioned not to trust anyone, to be careful, and I went out and married Lux, got stuck in a mansion, and was forced to learn about a legacy he never taught me about.
“H-How?”
He smiles, his face full of amusement. “Well, when a man and a woman—”
“Oh, God, stop,” I hiss. “That’s not what I meant. Mom always avoided the conversation about you, acting as if it was a taboo subject to even ask questions.” It’s a summary but it’s not untruthful.
“Tasha is a woman of many words, but honest isn’t one I’d ever give her.” Mortemor rubs the back of his neck, showing more of his tattooed skin. It amazes me that someone who is close to me could have tattoos similar. Or at all. Cassidy never had tattoos. He didn’t want them to detract from his future. Me, I didn’t care. Tattoos helped me feel, they forced me to look forward to something, kept me alive.
“Why are we here?” I finally ask. My d—Mortemor—looks down at his shoes as if avoiding me. He’s not what I expected. Not that I can assume a ton from a thirty-something-year-old man. He’s laid-back and tall. His shoulders are wide, and he seems like he could kill a man on the spot. But there’s not an ounce of animosity sent my way. He’s all smiles and nervousness. Which, now that I think of it, was probably why he didn’t scare me at the cabin.