Page 11 of The Merger

“You’re an only child,” I managed to squeak out.

Malcolm shook his head. “Not technically, although Stryker is just my father’s bastard. His mother was a maid, not someone worth mentioning. Certainly not someone he could leave my mother for. They’d been struggling to conceive, and their marriage was on the rocks.”

There was so much wrong with what he said. Mostly the way he casually excused his father’s cheating and abandoning a child because his mother didn’t have the right pedigree. This was the world Waverly lived in and the one my father had worked so hard to keep me apart from. I had a hard time reconciling this information with the man who’d been my father’s best friend for years.

Malcolm pointed at my face. “I see the judgment even if you aren’t saying the words. You don’t know Stryker. He grew up in the gutter and hasn’t bothered to leave it.”

“He was left there,” I said through clenched teeth. I wanted to go home now more than ever, and worse I was less interested in repeating this night.

This was the reason I’d never really entertained a relationship with my best friend, even if only subconsciously. He might step out of his ivory tower from time to time, but it was clear to me he was comfortable there. It was easier to overlook his snobbery when we were just friends. Now those aspects of his personality were nearly all I saw.

He shrugged his shoulders. “All of this happened before I was born. Stryker is eight years older than me. He was a teenager when I first learned of his existence, so don’t look at me like any of that was my doing.”

I set my napkin on the table. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’m going to go do that, at home.”

Before he could argue with me I got up and walked out of the restaurant. Not wanting to wait out front for an uber, I walked around the corner to one of the hundreds of coffee shops found all over Seattle. Malcolm started blowing up my phone before I had a chance to order a ride.

There were people I could call for a ride, of course. Any of my found family would come to my aid without hesitation, but I didn’t want to see the look they’d give me. The one that said, “I told you so.” It wasn’t a secret they didn’t care for Malcolm. So, I called for a ride and ordered a coffee while I waited for it to arrive.

They had valid reasons for their dislike. Malcolm had a reputation as a playboy, one he’d more than earned. One of his dalliances was with Waverly. I found out about them after their brief relationship had gone sour. Unlike Colter, I didn’t set the blame solely on Mal’s shoulders. Waverly had her own history with toying with her paramour’s affections.

She collected and discarded lovers the way Jana did shoes. Actually, I think Jana cared more for her shoes than my sister ever did for a man she dated. Malcolm was just one in a series of rich boyfriends. He had access to exclusive clubs, long before he opened his own, and she did love to be seen in the right places.

It didn’t take her long to find a richer, better connected admirer, and Malcolm was left in the dust. Of course, she managed to squeeze out a few crocodile tears and spin a story about how he mistreated her. He flirted with other girls and ignored her. All of that was probably true, but I doubted she cared as she was doing the same thing. She certainly moved on fast enough not to believe she didn’t have her next boyfriend lined up.

I don’t think anyone expected them to end up together long-term. Waverly was only eighteen at the time, and Malcolm was twenty-three. Way too young to think they’d last, at least not with the maturity they both possessed at that time. I was starting to wonder if either of them had matured in the last five years.

Malcolm’s dating history wasn’t a concern when we were just friends. Aside from the occasional dirty looks shot my way by women he’d been involved with, I rarely thought about it. Perhaps I dismissed his past too easily. Suddenly, I was surrounded by red flags and needed to think.

Not only had he been able to dismiss women so easily, but apparently being his own flesh and blood didn’t guarantee his affection. These were thoughts I could ponder in my apartment with a pint of ice cream, hopefully alone.

The car pulled up outside the cafe and I hurried inside. Once the door was closed I exhaled in relief. I wasn’t sure if Malcolm cared enough to hunt me down, but I was sure I didn’t want to be found. And that said a lot, didn’t it?

ChapterFive

Stryker

My hand shook as I raised it to knock on Jana and Colter’s door. I was late leaving the office, which meant Sabrina was likely already inside. I have often wondered if her memories would return if she saw me. If she didn’t remember, did that mean that night meant more to me than it did to her? Now that I was about to find out, I was afraid to know the answer.

I finally gathered my courage and rapped my knuckles against the door. The clack of heels approached, and a moment later Jana opened the door.

I handed her a bottle of wine and followed her inside. My breath caught as Sabrina rose and turned to greet me.

Her blue eyes widened and held mine. “Stryker,” she said breathlessly.

I nodded, my throat too choked with anticipation to push out any sound.

Her hand trembled as she raised it toward her neck. “I feel like I’ve met you before.”

I wouldn’t lie to her, but I didn’t know how to come out and tell her either. Jana was watching us, and I had a sinking feeling that the information was going to come out whether I said the words or not.

I opened my mouth to say something, I wasn’t sure what exactly, but Colter interrupted the moment by handing me a beer.

“Why don’t we have a seat in the living room where we can chat,” he said.

“Sabrina said she felt like she’s met you before, and she has, hasn’t she?” Colter cut to the chase.

I nodded.