pretended to be his father. He was angry at fate. Most of all, he was furious with himself, haunted by the helpless guilt he felt for being unable to save his mother.
“Anthony?”
“She’s dead. He murdered her.”
“When? Can you give me more details?”
“Yes, I can give you details. It was summer, a hot night, and she was wearing a ruffled sundress. He’d beaten her, so there was blood on both of them. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. The veins on his arms bulged like snakes as he strangled her with his bare hands.” Anthony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to contain the rage. He couldn’t let himself be drawn into it now. “It was twenty-eight years ago. I was three at the time. He never knew I saw it.”
“Oh, my God. That was the murder you said you witnessed.”
“Yes. I had blocked out the memory of it until—” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I went to the house in Wyatt where it happened. It came back to me then.”
“Why were you in the house, Anthony?”
“I used to live there. Deanna had six children. Two sets of triplets. I’m the firstborn.”
Melina set her pen down. She looked at him for a while, her gaze brimming with sympathy. “You saw Titan kill your mother.”
“Yes. Afterward, he left the country and assumed a new identity to avoid the law.”
“Then that means Titan is…”
Anthony shook his head fast before she could complete the sentence. That was something else he’d only found out two months ago. The one piece of good news. “He isn’t my biological father. He’s sterile. No blood of his runs in my veins. My siblings and I were fathered by a donor. I have the files that prove it.”
“Oh, Anthony. You were so young when your mother was killed. What happened to you and the other children?”
“I don’t know where the younger triplets ended up. My two brothers and my youngest sister were infants at the time. My other two sisters, Danielle and Elizabeth, and I were taken into the foster care system. Some social worker changed our last name to Caldwell so Benedict couldn’t trace us.”
The terse statements were accurate, but they didn’t come close to describing the devastation that had been wrought to what had been a close family. Like the murder, Anthony’s memory of the younger triplets had been blocked out for most of his life, too. Losing his infant siblings on top of losing his mother had been too much for his mind to handle.
“I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you.”
“Benedict Payne is going to pay for his crimes, whatever he decides to call himself.”
“Yes. He will. Absolutely. But after all this time, why would he want to find you and your sisters if he isn’t your biological—”
“That’s all I’m going to tell you, Melina. I kept my half of our bargain. I told you who Titan is and where he came from.” No longer able to restrain himself, Anthony stood and walked to her side. Gripping the back of her chair with one hand and the edge of the table with the other, he leaned down to bring his face to hers. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Anthony…”
“Tell me.” His muscles hardened. His voice dropped to a rasp. “Tell me where to find the son of a bitch.”
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