Page 21 of The Sound of Secrets

Win’s chest lifted and fell when he took a sharp breath. My eyelids were too heavy to lift when he growled a warning into the darkness.

“He has no idea who he’s dealing with. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Which is saying something considering who raised me. Your father doesn’t stand a chance against you. No one does.”

That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said about me next to Win calling me fearless. Too bad I was falling asleep, emotionally drained, and could barely hear him. That was the type of praise that could change a woman’s mind.

Win

I had Rocco drop me and Channing off several blocks from the soccer field. After a week of trying to touch base with Julie Kent, Ky’s mother, and having no luck, I decided an ambush in a public place was a last resort. The woman worked all the time. She was hardly ever home, and when she was, she didn’t answer the door to any of the people I sent to question her. I understood it was wise for a single mom in a big city not to be careless with safety, but she didn’t respond, even when a police escort tagged along. I’d tried to corner her at one of her many part-time jobs, but she remained elusive. It was almost like she knew someone had questions about the adoption and her son, and she was purposely avoiding answering. Because I had someone tailing her, I knew she’d spoken to her landlord about breaking the lease on her tiny apartment.

She was so frightened of the history I wanted to dig up that she was ready to run from it.

Since I couldn’t let that happen, I figured I would take the chance and approach her in a very public place.She’d gone to great lengths to care for Ky, including working herself to the bone. It was unlikely she would miss supporting him at the thing he was most passionate about. I gambled that she’d be at his next game and dragged Channing along with me, so I didn’t appear as intimidating when I approached her. I even tried to dress in a more approachable manner, wearing black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Channing laughed at me and told me it wasn’t dressing down when the clothes still bore designer labels. To offset my mediocre casual outfit, she dressed extra eccentric, even for a woman who got married in her pajamas.

Today she had a jeweled headband holding her strawberry hair out of her face. She had on a pair of hot pink overalls that looked like a bottle of bleach spilled on them at one point, and a lime green tank top that was trimmed with pink lace. The white combat boots on her feet looked like they’d survived more than one war. And every time she moved; her colorful bracelets jingled together in a happy symphony. It looked like she raided the nearest thrift store to put the outfit together. Which she probably had, even though I knew Alistair gave her a substantial raise in pay, along with a real job title when she transferred to her new position in his company.

Channing hooked her hand in the curve of my arm as we approached the soccer field. Winnie’s private school had the amenity attached to the grounds, whereas a lot of the public schools in the city had to use shared facilities to practice and play. It was the first time I’d been to such a place. I got the feeling there were a lot of eyes on us as we meandered on the grass among allthe parents and bystanders seated in camp chairs and on colorful blankets. Oddly enough, I felt like I was the one they were staring at, and not Channing and her wild fashion sense.

I fought the urge to nervously clear my throat and let my gaze pick through the crowd. I’d seen plenty of images of Julie Kent from the team I had surveilling her. She looked older than her early thirties. As if her life had always been difficult and she never got a break from the drudgery. The two-dimensional pictures showed a woman who was obviously beautiful but broken down. Not only did she have to hold her son up, but she also had to hold down the secrets that surrounded his adoption.

Channing’s finger dug in the crook of my elbow, and she lifted her chin to indicate a solitary figure sitting away from everyone else. She didn’t have a chair or a blanket. She was sitting cross-legged on the grass and appeared perfectly comfortable that way. She had her hands cupped around her mouth and was alternating between shouting ‘let’s go’ and ‘come on, Ky.’ As she watched the teenager with dyed white hair race up and down the field, she clapped her hands wildly. While we approached, Ky scored a goal, and she jumped to her feet and cheered with her hands in the air.

Channing’s hold on my arm got tighter and tighter until I winced. I looked down at her and asked if she was all right. She shook her head and gave me a troubled look from underneath her eyelashes.

It had to be hard watching someone be such a strong and supportive mother to the child who might’ve been stolen away from her. All that excitement and anxiety,the pride and pain, were supposed to be hers, but someone took the opportunity away. It wasn’t fair, but there was no animosity in her multicolored eyes. Just longing and unvarnished envy.

I wanted to hug her and reassure her that everything would be all right, but just then, Ky’s mom caught my eye, and I could tell she wanted to bolt. Since she was close enough to hear me, I warned, “If you run, you’re going to make a scene and embarrass your son. Also, my security team has every exit of this park blocked off, so you’re going to have to talk to me today, one way or the other.”

The woman’s gaze drifted to the field, and then to the closest escape route. Rocco was leaning against the outside of the wrought-iron fence with a cigarette in his mouth, looking appropriately intimidating.

“I just want to talk. That’s all.”

Channing let go of me and approached the woman. She smiled and lifted her hand in a placating gesture. Her bracelets clicked together, and I watched as the other woman visibly calmed down. “We come in peace. Truly. We have some questions that only you can answer. It’s for the best of everyone, including your son, if we have a friendly chat. Okay?”

Channing plopped down on the grass. Mirroring the other woman’s previous position. She patted a spot of lawn next to her and gave me a playful look. I shook my head and stepped behind her, urging her to sit on my feet so she didn’t get dirty. She teased me for being a neat freak but moved onto the makeshift seat after I refused to move.

Ky’s mother watched us with bewildered eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “What do you want to know? The adoption was all above board. I have the paperwork to prove it. If you think you can take my son away from me…” she trailed off and her voice cracked. “You’re in for the fight of your life. I don’t care what your last name is or how much money you have.”

I shoved a hand in a pocket and shifted my gaze from the top of Channing’s head to the soccer field. Ky scored another goal and looked over at his mother. He frowned fiercely when he saw she had company. His teammates hustled him back to the center of the field before he got the chance to dash over to her rescue.

“Your son and my niece have gotten close since she transferred schools. I have reason to believe they may be related by blood. Before I tell her, I need to know for certain if they’re cousins or not. I don’t have intentions of disrupting your family, but I will do what needs to be done to protect mine.”

The woman rocked back on her heels and shook her head vehemently. “Ky is not a Halliday. Not a chance.”

“If you know who I am, and you know your son isn’t a Halliday heir, why have you been avoiding speaking with me? Even going so far as planning to move.”

She uncrossed her arms and started twisting her hands together in an anxious manner. “Because a man came to my work and told me that you were going to take my son away. He said that your wife gave up her son around the same time I adopted Ky, and she’s convinced he’s the child she threw away. I know the money you have and the influence you wield. If you want Ky to makeyour wife happy, who is going to stop you from taking him? Even if he’s not her son and she wants him, you can make that happen.”

Channing let out a long breath and tilted her head back, so our eyes met. “My father.” She laid the cause of the woman’s fear at the older man’s feet without hesitation.

Inside, my blood started to boil. First, he hinted that Ky was Channing’s lost child, then prodded the boy’s mother to do everything to protect against finding out for certain to protect herself. It was a game of push and pull, designed to wreak havoc on Channing’s mental state. He wasn’t content to watch her hover on the edge of the illness that debilitated her mother and sister. He wanted to shove her directly into the fire.

“The man who approached you to warn about me, did he have a hand in the initial adoption?” I reached down and brushed the frown that tugged at Channing’s rust-colored eyebrows. “He’s not someone you should blindly trust.”

Julie shook her head and nervously shifted her weight. “My ex-husband was the one who handled the adoption. I also lost a child. I carried almost until my due date. The preeclampsia came out of nowhere. I was devastated. I slipped into a severe depression and a manic state. I tried to take my life. It wasn’t until my ex showed up with a perfect baby boy that the world righted itself once again. He told me it was a private adoption, so we didn’t have to jump through all the normal hoops. I didn’t ask questions because I didn’t want to know. I just wanted the baby. I’ve been the best mom I could be.Ky is my entire world. He saved me.” The woman started crying. “My husband said it was a closed adoption. The parents didn’t want to know anything about Ky or his adopted family. I thought they were cruel and foolish for letting such a perfect baby slip away.” She gave a dry laugh and finally folded back to a sitting position on the ground next to Channing. “As Ky got older and started asking questions about his biological parents, I began to understand my husband wasn’t truthful about the adoption. I was able to have children in the future. We’d only been married a couple of years. My husband made a good living, but I didn’t have a job or any sort of income. On paper, we were not the ideal candidates for a newborn. And he refused to disclose how he located the biological parents. I wanted Ky to know where he really came from when he got older — until that man told me he might be tied to a billionaire. How can I compete with that?”

Channing sighed and tilted her head to the side, appearing as intimidating as a bunny rabbit. “I’m far from a billionaire.”

The other woman snorted. “You’re just married to one.”

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