Page 48 of Facet

The corner of my mouth lifted as I opened one of his drawers to find several of my things neatly folded. While I pulled out a pair of my panties and shorts, I went to the next drawer for one of Damien’s shirts. An old Mötley Crüe T-shirt was just the ticket. Worn and soft, it was perfect. Though it was a bit tight across my chest, it hung past my shorts.

Not wanting the guys to think I wasn’t wearing pants, I knotted it off to the side of my waist. Then I slid my feet into a pair of my flip-flops I had left under the bed.

When I went out into the common area, a giant black and tan blur shot toward me.

“Sasha!” Kira snapped, and the big German Shepherd dropped to her haunches in front of me. Zaka, her “boyfriend,” sat at Kira’s feet, giving her a reproachful stare.

“Aww, hers a good girl, huh? Did her come to get lovings?” I crooned to the sweet dog with her massive pink tongue lolled to the side. The entire time, I gave her all the scratches.

Kira chuckled. “Spoiled rotten.”

I glanced up at her with a grin. “Totally,” I concurred.

“Aww, my other favorite!” I cooed as I made grabby hands at Voodoo and Kira’s son Parker. Up in his mother’s arms, he rested his head on her shoulder with all the fingers of one hand shoved in his mouth.

When I got close enough, he grinned and slobber ran down his chin. I plucked him from his mother, who gave a sigh of relief.

“Ugh, thank you. That little beast is getting heavy!” Kira smiled and ruffled his dark hair. The love for her mini Voodoo was in her eyes for the world to see.

I kissed his chubby cheek. “You’re not working today?” I asked Kira.

“No, Parker had an appointment, so I took the day off to spend with him. Voodoo had church, and I dropped the dogs here on our way to the doctor, so I figured I’d come by to see him and bring them home,” she explained. The dogs were almost permanent fixtures at the clubhouse—mascots, if the boys had them. It was their second home, for sure.

“Well, that’s good because now I get my fill of Parker cuddles and all the doggie lovings,” I happily announced before rapidly kissing Parker’s cheek until he giggled. “He’s getting so big!”

“Where is everyone? I figured they’d be done by now,” she observed as she glanced around.

My brows pinched in the center. “I have no idea. I guess I just assumed they were still in there. Are you hungry?”

“For your food? Heck, yeah,” Kira immediately replied with a grin. “Where did you learn to cook, anyway?”

My smile fell, and I caught my lip in my teeth. I didn’t like talking about my past much. It brought back too many memories. The loss of my mom, knowing I would be alone with my father, and there wouldn’t be anything to stop him anymore. Everyone thought I had such a privileged life. Yet none of my friends knew the truth, nor were they there for me when I left. I begged to be able to stay with one of them, but they were all worried about how it would look.

My father had not only been very wealthy, he had also been powerful. No one wanted to risk that they would face the wrath of Mr. Ralph Geisman—owner of the largest lumber company in all of Northern California. Everyone kissed his ass. I was never sure if it was because they thought he would bestow his wealth on them if they did, or if they really thought he could do something for them.

Maybe they thought that they would become wealthy and powerful by association.

Only I knew what a vile human he was.

The night of the accident, I was inconsolable. I’d gone into my mom’s closet, looking for her favorite cardigan to wear in an attempt to be close to her, and I found a box. She had it under a bunch of sweaters in her drawer. When I opened it, I found several journals. Thinking I was going to get to relive my mother’s youth, I happily sat down in the corner of her spacious closet to read.

What I found was the guilt-ridden confession of a woman who was torn between happiness at the child she finally had and how it came to be.

Evidently, my mom wanted a baby so bad and he didn’t want to admit that the great Ralph Geisman was sterile. Her journals spoke of her finally trying artificial insemination with a donor. But that failed over and over. They tried adoption, but he told her she would have to go away for five to six months so people didn’t know she didn’t actually have his child.

His conceit was so great that he didn’t want the world to know that he and his wife couldn’t make a baby. How ridiculous, yet how Ralph Geisman.

To add to the shock of finding out I was adopted, I had no idea that I was a black-market adoption. Yet her journals spelled it all out. I’d been stolen from my biological parents. I had no idea how old I really was, when my birthday really was, who my real parents were, if they missed me, if they gave up trying to find me—nothing.

My mother’s last entry said that she would no longer be keeping a journal because, no matter how ashamed she was, she needed to be able to pretend I was really hers. In a way, I understood, but then I didn’t. She knowingly kept me from my real family.

“Our family cook taught me,” I finally replied.

My prolonged silence must’ve told her there was more to the story, but to her credit, she didn’t push.

We went into the kitchen and Parker sat in his highchair and snacked on some Cheerios. When our lunch was done, Kira shared some of hers with Parker, who made a mess of it, but devoured it.

The guys came in while we were sitting there talking over our empty plates. They were all somber, and several wouldn’t make eye contact with me as they dispersed. Voodoo sat by Kira and whispered things to her that made her blush and bite her lower lip.

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