“That was an unusual first meeting…”
“So, Misty, do you want me to go with you?”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she said, but he heard hope in her voice.
“I want to.” He wouldn’t push her, but he would be by her side, with or without an extra ticket.
He could tell she was undecided, so when she changed the subject, he didn’t hesitate to follow her lead.
“What made you decide to join the FBI?”
He considered her question for a moment. “I was in the Mideast, fighting in the war, and I saw so many things that could have been done differently. I’m not saying anyone was necessarily right or wrong, but I saw things no one should see. When I came home, it was the same thing here. So many victims. I got recruited, and I never looked back. This is just where I fit, where I belong.”
“Did you get wounded when you were fighting?” She hadn’t seen any scars, but then again, they also hadn’t had good lights — only the flickering candles.
“No. I was lucky. I lost some good friends, but I was never shot, or bombed. I have been shot once here in the States, though,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Where?” she gasped. “How can you speak so casually about being shot?”
“It wasn’t that big a deal.” He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“Getting shot is always a big deal,” she cried.
“I don’t know why I said that, ’cause I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Misty was crushed. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t want to open up about something that was obviously traumatic for him. “I shouldn’t have pushed,” she mumbled, and she pulled back a little.
“Hey! Don’t do that. It’s not that I don’t want to share. It’s just…well…embarrassing,” he finally admitted with a sigh.
“How could getting shot possibly be embarrassing?”
“I was shot in the ass,” he said with a groan.
Misty was stunned. Was he making this up? Teasing her? Who would make something like that up, though? Should she just drop it? Suddenly she felt a giggle in her throat and she clamped her teeth down on her lip — hard — so her amusement wouldn’t reveal itself.
“I can feel your chest shaking, you little wench,” he said, flipping her so fast onto her back that she lost her grip on her lip and her laughter spilled out.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Getting shot is so not funny,” she said between fits of laughter. “But your tush seems to be accident-prone.” She hadn’t forgotten about the dog story.
“Don’t worry; my colleague Axel, brother, sister, and everyone else I know has made a few butt jokes, or rather made me the butt of their jokes.”
When she was just about to pass out from lack of oxygen, a new gleam crept into his eyes, and her laughter died away. Oh, that was a look she was beginning to know.
One second she was giggling uncontrollably, and then the next, he was hard and inside her. “Oh,” she gasped. This was much better than laughter.
“I have ways of making you cooperate,” he said, then lowered his mouth to hers and took her remaining breath away.
Yes, any thoughts of laughter had evaporated — moaning had taken its place.
Chapter Sixteen
Taking a deep breath, Misty gazed out the windows, watching the clouds below her shifting, blowing, making shapes. Now a herd of elephants rushing to a water hole, now wild stallions roaming free.
Anything to take her mind off meeting her brother for the first time. This was forcing her to confront all sorts of emotions she’d never thought she’d have to. Her biggest fear? Rejection. As the plane made its final approach, her stomach dipped, her heart thudded, and the only thing holding her in place was the feel of Bryson’s hand clasping hers.
What if her brother was cold, cruel, a person she wouldn’t want to know? What if he had a great life and he was kind — too kind to reject the sister he wished he didn’t have? Yes, she’d met Joseph, and, yes, he was a kind man, but this man, her brother, hadn’t grown up with the Anderson family, either.
He’d essentially been an orphan, too. But look at him now. He was a mega-successful businessman with a beautiful wife and child. The most frightening part of all of this was how badly she wanted to know Damien — how badly she wanted him to love her.
How was it possible, through all the hurt she’d endured, for her to still want to be loved? It was ridiculous. Some would say she was simply setting herself up for failure. And they’d probably be right.
She looked down at the picture again and stared at eyes the exact same shape and color as hers. They both had dark hair; they both had the same smile. Shared genes were on full display here. She’d never expected to see anyone in the world who looked so much like her, but then she’d never thought she’d find him. Heck, she’d never truly believed in his existence.
But he was real. And she was about to meet him. Would the meeting help heal her, or would it shatter her ability ever to give her heart away?
“Breathe,” Bryson whispered.
She hadn’t realized she was now holding her breath. Bryson had been so good to her, understanding that she needed silence, that she needed to brood. He was another man she didn’t deserve, but she was just selfish enough to hold on to him for as long as he would stand beside her — and all of her dysfunctional, irrational behavior.
It was strange to think that she had not only a brother, but a sister-in-law, too, along with about a million other relatives. And she was an aunt! Not that she’d want to meet the whole passel of them all at once. Not this first time — too much pressure. If, and it was a very big if, they invited her to come back, she could meet them gradually.
Right now, it would be too overwhelming. She wouldn’t be able to enter the room — wouldn’t be able to speak. What would they expect from her? Damien was hugely successful when they found him. If they thought she’d be the same, boy, were they going to be disappointed.
She was just Misty. She was nobody special. That was the most depressing thought of all. Yes, Bryson kept telling her that she was special, and he even made her feel that way, but for too many years she’d had people saying the opposite, saying she was a hopeless case, not adoptable, too many issues, too much work.
Ever since she turned three, after her first foster mother had passed the only people who’d taken the time to know her had been either those she was thrust upon, who at least got a paycheck to have her around, or those who wanted something from her — like Jesse.
Now she knew that she was related to the Andersons. Whoa! When she researched them, she’d become paralyzed with fear. Why would Joseph have bothered to show up on her doorstep? This man was loved and respected, and would probably win the next presidential election if he chose to run.
There wasn’t a single good thing he hadn’t done. His family had the golden touch — even Damien seemed to have inherited the Midas gene. Whatever they began always ended in success. And not just a little, but world-domination-style success.
Talk about intimidating.
Though she didn’t want to think about it, she had to wonder what her life would have been like if she’d grown up with them, had cousins to play with, been able to attend the schools they did. If she’d had support from people who loved her.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered as the plane touched down and growled and vibrated during the jolting ride on the landing strip.
“You can, Misty. I know this family. They will love you, and you will love them. It will be as if you’ve been with them your entire life.” Bryson turned her face toward his.
“But I’m a nobody, Bryson. They’re rich and powerful, and they have each other. I’m an intruder, and Damien is probably horrified I exist, embarrassed that I’m showing up.”
That would be the worst. If he looked at her with disgust, or pity, or coldness. If he looked through her instead of at her.
Pulling out the note from Damien’s wife, she read her words again.
My dearest Misty,
How excited I was to learn that a miracle was granted to us and you were found. We’ve searched for years, and it just goes to show that you were meant to be a part of our family. I know we mean nothing to you right now, and you’re probably feeling confused, but please come and visit us — give us a chance to know you, and give yourself a chance to know us. I look forward to meeting you.
Sierra
Misty rubbed her thumb over the words again and again, some of the ink smeared from the tears she’d cried while reading it, tears she hadn’t even noticed falling until she saw the blots on the fancy paper.
Sierra sounded like a lovely woman, at least from her letter, but that didn’t mean that Damien wanted to know her. It only meant that he’d married someone fantastic. Misty was worried though, that Damien wouldn’t want this. After all, his wife had been the one to write to Misty — the letter hadn’t come from her brother.