Page 19 of Jack Raider

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was watching me like a hawk. I gave her the answer I knew she didn’t believe.

“No. He didn’t leave anyone behind who needed him.”

But I was lying. We both knew it.

Ihadneeded him.

I needed someone to pull me out of that woman’s house—that haunted, dusty old place run by a woman who woke me up screaming if I so much as left a fingerprint on a doorknob. She was cruel, unstable, and needed a hospital, not custody of her only child. I left her house at midnight with one bag, and I didn’t even glance in the rearview mirror as I drove off.

Now here I was, pulling into Cheryl’s driveway, and suddenly, my insides felt like they were hosting a boxing match. I pushed the nerves away; after all, I had told Grandma I never allowed myself to be anxious. Hell, I was only going to look at some pictures.

We waited on the porch. Grandma slipped her arm through mine. She pretended she needed support, but I knew it was for me, not her. I didn’t pull away.

The door opened.

A man stood there. With just a tiny bit of gray hair. T-shirt. Jeans. Older. Strong. Familiar.

I’d know him anywhere. I had to force my body not to crumble in front of everyone.

My father wasn’t quite as tall as me, but the build was the same. Muscles earned from hard work. We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Then he reached out his hand.

I shook it.

“You want to come in and talk?” he asked. “Just looking at you... I can tell we’re related.”

“I didn’t come to visit,” I said honestly. “I just wanted to look at a photo to confirm if you were my father. I’m a grown man—I don’t need a dad. I understand you have two sons?”

“And a daughter,” he said. “They’re inside. Would you like to meet them?”

I hesitated. “I guess it’d be rude to say no…”

Before I could finish the sentence, I heard a car pull up behind me. I turned just as Eloise stepped out.

She marched over, clearly not thrilled. “Grandma, you forgot to mention what you and Mable were up to.”

She took my hand, gently tugging me away from the house. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“We’re already here,” I said. “Might as well. If he really lost his memory, then none of this is his fault. Besides, I think I see my siblings inside. I want to meet them.”

“For the record,” I added, “this wasn’t some Grandma-Mable scheme.Icalled Mable. I wanted to find out if he was my father.”

“Okay,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll get back to work then. See you later.”

She turned to leave just as Mable hollered after her.

“Don’t forget the sleepover at your parents’ tonight!”

Eloise spun back around. “Whenwas that decided?”

“We all thought it would be fun,” Mable replied, matter-of-fact.

“Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Yes. They do.”

Eloise rolled her eyes and climbed into her car. “See you later,” she said, driving off.

I turned back to my father—he was watching me with a grin.

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