I was still enraptured from my orgasm when I noticed his tears. He pulled out of me and pulled his pants up around his hips, although he didn’t snap or buckle them.

I waited. Waited for him to tell me what to do. As wrong as waiting for a command felt, it also felt so very right.

Instead, he only stared at me. Not at my naked body. He looked into my eyes with a look so tortured that I thought I could see into his soul. Something was bothering him. Something big. So big that it elicited a tear…and then another.

I stopped my mouth from dropping open. I wouldn’t mention the tears. That would embarrass him.

He was still fully clothed, and I sat up and took his hands, bringing him down upon the bed beside me.

“Ryan,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

He let go of one of my hands and trailed his finger up my arm, my shoulder, my cheekbone, around to the band holding my ponytail in place. He pulled it out of my hair and let my tresses fall down my back. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said.

His eyes were still tortured, his lids heavy, his dark irises glassy. He continued touching me, lightly running his fingers over my body.

Then he closed his eyes and inhaled. “I can always smell you. Your scent intoxicates me. Makes me want you so much.”

I touched his cheek. “I’m right here. You have me.”

He opened his eyes. “Something happened today.” Then he tilted his head slightly to the side. “No, that’s not right. Nothing happened. I just found out something. Most of my life has been a lie.”

“Ryan, your life hasn’t been a lie. I know you’re still dealing with the fact that you have a different mother than your brothers and sister. But you will—”

He placed two fingers over my lips. “I’m not talking about that. Am I used to it yet? Hell, no. But I will deal with that. What I found out today is, in a strange way, even more important to me. It changes everything I’ve known as truth for the last twenty-five years.”

Twenty-five years? Ryan was thirty-two years old, same as me. What could he have found out that changed the past twenty-five years of his life? He would’ve been seven years old.

He’d been seven years old when Talon was taken.

I gently removed his hand from my mouth. “What is it, Ryan? What are you talking about?”

“For the last twenty-five years, my brother Talon has been my hero. And now…”

“And now…what?”

“My psychotic mother. I went to see her.”

I knew that, of course. I’d told him about the e-mail I got from Wendy.

“What happened?”

“I asked her to tell me the truth. I asked her to help me understand.” He threaded his fingers through his unruly hair. “I’ll never understand, Ruby. I’ll never understand how or why she could’ve done the things she did.”

“That’s a good thing,” I said. “I’ll never understand why my father has done the things he’s done either. I don’t want to understand. I don’t want my mind to work in that warped way.”

“I know that. I agree with you. But what I found out today changes everything.”

“I can assure you that nothing has changed,” I said. Perhaps he found out that Wendy was more than any of us had bargained for. That she was the mastermind behind all of this. But now was not the time to voice my theory.

“But it has.” He squeezed my hand. “I got away that day. I got away because Talon freed me from the guy holding me and told me to run. At least that’s what I always thought.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything, just continued holding his hand, rubbing my thumb into his palm.

“But my mother told me… God, do you have any idea how much I hate calling her my mother?”

I couldn’t help letting out a stilted laugh. “Of course I do.”

Finally, a tiny smile twitched at Ryan’s lips. “Of course you do. That was a stupid thing for me to say.”

“Tell me. You can tell me anything, Ryan. I… I love you.”

He sighed. “I love you too, baby.”

“Then trust me.” Those were loaded words, I knew. In his eyes, I had betrayed him when I gave a strand of his hair to Marjorie to have his DNA tested. We loved each other, but it would still take some time to recover from that.

He closed his eyes. “I’m trying.”

“I know.”

He opened his eyes. “My mother said Simpson and Mathias let me go that day because I was her son. That’s why Talon was taken and I wasn’t. Because I’m the spawn of that psychotic bitch who apparently was calling the shots that day.” He paused a moment, swallowing hard. “Do you have any idea what this does to me, Ruby? Any idea how this changes my history?”

“Ryan, it doesn’t have to change anything.”

“All these years… The way I remember it…” He rose from the bed, holding his pants up. He buckled them and began pacing around. “Talon. The brother I trusted with my life. The brother I thought had saved my life. Saved me from the horrible fate that he endured those months.” He slammed his fist against the closet door. “And now? I find out it’s been a lie. Talon didn’t save me that day. My fucked-up mother did.”

“Look,” I said. “The most important thing is that you got away, isn’t it?”

“No. No, it’s not, Ruby. I got away solely because of my parentage. And my poor brother…” He choked back a sob. “My poor brother went through hell that I was spared because I’m the son of that fucked-up maniac.”

Guilt. More guilt. Ryan had always harbored guilt because he got away. He loved Talon almost to the point of worship because his brother had saved him from that fate. Yet still the guilt ate at him because he had gotten away. And now this… I rose and went to him. I wrapped my arms around him, but he did not respond.

“It’s not fair,” he said.

I caressed his upper arms still covered in his cotton shirt. I could say many things right now. I could tell him none of this was his fault. I could tell him there was no reason to feel guilty. That Talon never wanted him to feel that way. I could tell him that maybe it did happen the way he remembered it. That maybe his psycho mother was lying. But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I nuzzled into his chest.

“No, it’s not fair, Ryan.”

He sniffled, and I knew he was trying to hold back tears. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hold back tears in front of me, that he could cry if he wanted to. But I knew how hard it was for me to cry in front of another person. He needed to believe in his strength right now. I wouldn’t take that away from him.

I continued to hold him, still naked, he still fully clothed. We stood together for seconds that turned into minutes.

Finally, I pulled away. “Let me get you something. A glass of water maybe?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I walked into the bathroom and draped one of the luxury robes around me. Then I filled a glass of water and returned, handing it to Ryan. He had sat back down on the bed.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened that day?” I asked.

He nodded. “I had to tell everyone when I got back. I told my mother—or the woman who I thought was my mother at the time—my father, the police. For a long time I had nightmares. Even after Talon came back. But we never talked about it. My mother and father never wanted to mention it. And then my mother…er…Daphne…”

“She was your mother, Ryan, in every way that matters. It’s okay to think of her as your mother.”

He took a long gulp of the water. “Our father never let us see her body.”

“He was probably trying to protect you.”

“I’m not sure any of us ever forgave him for that. That was another knife that had twisted in my gut when he died. Or rather, when he faked his death. I always felt guilty about not forgiving him. And now?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I find out that woman wasn’t even my mother, and that my father is most likely not dead.”

I sat quietly beside him, not saying anything. I didn’t know what to say anyway. I just wanted him to know I was there. That he could depend on me.

He took another sip of water. “You’ll never believe this either. According to Wendy, she was the brains of the whole operation.”

This didn’t surprise me. I had already come up with that theory on my own. A wisp of gratitude swept through me. Now I didn’t have to voice it to Ryan.

“She came around a lot, even before my mother died. She was based in Denver as a journalist for the National News Network. She was smart, a good reporter, as far as any of us knew. She won awards for her work, and all this time she’s been a complete sociopath.”

“Intelligent criminals know how to cover their tracks.” I should know.

“I never thought much about her coming around. Now I know why she did.”

“To see you? To see your father?” I asked.

“Both, according to her. And here’s the most twisted thing of all. Do you want to know why she orchestrated Talon’s abduction?”

My stomach spiraled into knots. I did want to know. Needed to know. “Why?”

“Because my mother was pregnant with Marjorie. According to Wendy, my father had promised never to have sex with my mother again, and in her warped mind, he had cheated on her with his own wife.”

He took what was left in the glass of water and splashed it over his face. “Can you believe that? She had a ten-year-old boy tortured and raped because my father had sex with his wife.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. My father was just as much to blame for what happened to Talon when he was taken. After all, he actually helped do the deed. But in an obscure way, I was actually relieved that he hadn’t been the catalyst for what that poor boy had endured.

“My brother was taken, tortured, raped…” He sniffled, and another tear rolled down his cheek.

I ached to brush it away for him, but I didn’t want to draw attention to it. He wouldn’t want that.

“On the orders of the woman who is my biological mother. And those same orders were to let me go. All these years, Talon was my hero. He had saved me. Let me get away. And now?” He stood and threw the empty glass against the wall. Shards scattered over the floor. “All these years later, my own mother is the hero? My own mother is the reason I got away? And my own fucking mother is the reason my brother went through hell?” He turned to me, his eyes tortured. “How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?”