“He wasn’t,” I say firmly. “He only slept with her a couple times, and that was more than six months ago. She wasn’t that far along.”
“Whatever.” Seb shrugs. “So you’re saying Reed knocked up Dad’s child bride and then offed her because he doesn’t want to have a little Reed running around?”
“It wasn’t his!” I yell.
“Then it’s really Dad’s?” Sawyer says slowly.
I hesitate. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
Ugh. The secrets in this house could fill half the ocean. But I’m done with holding any of them back. It hasn’t done us any good.
“He had a vasectomy.”
Seb narrows his eyes. “Dad told you this?”
I nod. “He said he did it after you guys were born because your mom wanted more kids and couldn’t have them because of some medical condition.”
The twins look at each other again, communicating silently.
Easton rubs his chin. “Mom always wanted a girl. She talked about it a lot, said a girl would’ve softened us up.” His lips twitch. “But I don’t think girls make me soft in any way.”
Frustration jams in my throat. Of course Easton’s going somewhere sexual. He always does.
Sawyer smothers a laugh behind his hand while Seb grins openly. “So let’s assume that Reed and Dad are both telling the truth—who’s the baby daddy then?”
“Maybe there isn’t one?” Easton suggests.
“There has to be,” I say. Both Reed and Callum never doubted Brooke’s pregnancy claim, so it had to be true.
“Not necessarily,” Easton counters. “She could’ve been lying. Maybe her plan was to fake a miscarriage after Dad married her.”
“Sick, but possible.” Seb is nodding, clearly on board with this idea.
“Why don’t you think Reed killed her?” Easton asks me, his blue eyes flickering with curiosity.
“Why do you believe he’s capable of that?” I shoot back.
He shrugs and looks at the twins instead of me. “If she was threatening the family, maybe he is. Maybe they got into an argument and there was an accident. There’s lots of explanations.”
The sick feeling in my stomach threatens to erupt. The image Easton is casually painting is…possible. Reed’s stitches were ripped out. He had blood on him. What if he…
“No,” I choke out. “He didn’t do it. And I don’t want us to even talk about it anymore. He’s innocent. End of story.”
“Then why are you getting ready to skip town?”
Easton’s quiet question hangs in the bedroom. I swallow a moan of agony and rub my eyes with both hands. He’s right. A part of me has already decided that Reed could be guilty. Isn’t that why I have his suitcase and my backpack all ready to go?
The silence drags on, until it’s finally broken by the unmistakable sound of footsteps somewhere below us. Since the Royals don’t have live-in staff, the boys instantly tense up at the signs of life downstairs.
“Was that the front door?” Seb asks.
“Are they back?” Sawyer demands.
I bite my lip. “No, that wasn’t the front door. That was…” My throat closes up again. God. I forgot about Steve. How could I forget about him, damn it?
“That’s what?” Easton pushes.
“Steve,” I confess.
They all stare at me.
“Steve’s downstairs. He showed up at the door just as Reed was taken away.”
“Steve,” Easton echoes, slightly dazed. “Uncle Steve?”
Sebastian makes a croaky sound. “Dead Uncle Steve?”
I grit my teeth. “He’s not dead. He looks like Tom Hanks from Castaway, though. Minus the volleyball.”
“Holy shit.”
When Easton starts for the door, I grab his wrist and try to haul him back. I don’t have the strength for that, but the contact gives him pause.
He tilts his head to study me for a second. “You don’t want to go down there and talk to him? This is your dad, Ella.”
My panic returns in full force. “No. He’s just a guy who knocked up my mom. I can’t deal with him right now. I…” I gulp again. “I don’t think he realizes I’m his daughter.”
“You didn’t tell him?” Sawyer exclaims.
I slowly shake my head. “Can one of you go downstairs and…I don’t know…take him to a guest room or something?”
“I’ll do it,” Seb instantly replies.
“I’m coming with you,” his brother pipes up. “I’ve gotta see this.”
As the twins race for the door, I quickly call out to them. “Guys, don’t say anything about me. Seriously, I’m not ready for that. Let’s wait until Callum gets home.”
The twins exchange another one of those glances where a whole conversation takes place in a second.
“Sure,” says Seb, and then they’re gone, galloping down the stairs to greet their not-dead uncle.
Easton steps closer to me. His gaze lands on the suitcase near the closet, then locks onto my face. In a heartbeat, he grabs my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “You’re not running, little sis. You have to know it’s a stupid idea.”
I stare at our entwined fingers. “I’m a runner, East.”