“You could have destroyed his life,” Skylar bites out, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so furious.
“I didn’t mean to.” Remorse floods her features. “I know I lied, but it’s not like I was planning on going to the cops or anything. It was only a rumor.”
“Lies still damage people,” I whisper, intentionally avoiding looking at Phoenix.
Quinn turns to Memphis. “I’m really sorry. It was wrong of me to do that.”
Memphis—who has every reason to be livid with the girl—gives her a soft nod. “It’s cool. We’ve all done shit we regret.”
I can’t help but notice the way Skylar stiffens, but before I can read into it, Quinn pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to Phoenix. “I found this in a box stashed away in Mom’s closet a couple of years ago.”
Phoenix keeps his expression neutral as he stares at an image of a little blond-haired boy singing into a shampoo bottle…like he was gearing up to take the world by storm one day.
He doesn’t have to confirm it’s him…because there’s only one Phoenix Walker in the world.
Skylar straightens her spine, jumping into work mode. “Before this goes any further, I think we should get a DNA test.”
Phoenix—who’s still staring at the picture—nods.
Turning on her heels, Skylar hustles to the door. “I’ll set everything up.”
Storm hikes a thumb at the door Skylar just walked out. “I’m gonna go do that thing.”
Memphis slaps his back. “Yeah, we have that thing to do.”
Wanting to give Phoenix and Quinn time alone to talk, I get off the couch. “I’m gonna go.”
Phoenix grips my hand.
Even though he doesn’t say it, I know what he’s asking for.
Giving it a small squeeze, I promptly sit back down.
Phoenix blows out a heavy breath. “Does Mom know where you are?”
Going quiet, Quinn directs her gaze out the large window. Must be genetic.
“My guess would be no.” Which poses a big problem since she’s only fifteen. “I know you want to talk to your—Phoenix—but if your parents don’t consent, he can get in a lot of trouble.”
Especially if she turns out not to be his sister. Although the chances of that are growing slimmer by the minute.
Which makes talking to her mother even more crucial…because then we’ll know for sure.
“We need to give them a call, Quinn.”
That gets her attention. “You can’t.” Her eyes dart around the room nervously, like a scared animal caught in a trap. “They’re…out of town.”
Phoenix and I exchange an uneasy glance.
Maybe she’s not his sibling after all.
“In that case, is there somewhere we can take you? Just until we can talk to your parents and make sure they’re okay with you coming back here.”
Quinn bolts up like a jack-in-the-box. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll go.”
In the blink of an eye, she makes a mad dash for the door.
Phoenix—whose legs are way longer than mine—manages to grab her arm right before she exits.
Quinn winces like she’s in pain.
I sprint over to them. “Relax, Phoenix. You’re hurting—”
My stomach recoils when he rolls up the sleeve of her sweatshirt—which now that I think about it is a bit odd given it’s summer—revealing a nasty bruise on her forearm.
“Where’d you get this?”
“Soccer,” Quinn quickly responds. “Got attacked on the field the other day.” Plastering a smile on her face, she fist bumps the air. “Go Tigers.”
Phoenix doesn’t look like he buys it. I’m not sure I do either.
“What position do you play?”
“Goalie,” she replies without hesitation.
He frowns. “Name a famous soccer player.”
Quinn doesn’t miss a beat. “David Beckham.”
Still not convinced, Phoenix grunts, “How many players are on a soccer team?”
That’s when she falters. “Ten.”
Phoenix levels her with a look. “It’s eleven.”
Laughing, Quinn tries to play it off. “I wasn’t counting myself, silly.”
Despite having an answer for everything, I can’t shake the anxiety tightening my chest.
Something’s not right.
Phoenix feels it too, because he’s not done prying. “Why would you get attacked on the field if you’re a goalie?”