“How do you know?”
“It was an open adoption.”
“Then you know who has him. Tell me.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” He grabbed the collar of Roy’s shirt. “Damnit. I have a right to know where my child is!”
Roy stared into Sam’s eyes. “I’m sorry, son. I can’t give you any information.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s with parents who love him very much. If you do anything to challenge that relationship, the only person harmed will be your son. The parents will suffer, but the child will be the ultimate loser.”
“Damnit!” Sam punched the wall. His fist went through the drywall. His knuckles bled, yet he felt no pain.
No pain at all.
Only anger.
At Sydney.
At Roy.
At Carrie.
He walked away from Roy and turned the corner. Sydney’s mother sat with Duke. He was a beautiful child. He had Sydney’s eyes.
And sandy brown hair.
Oh my God. Was it possible?
He left Roy standing and stalked toward the woman and child. He eyed Duke up and down. Could it be?
When he noticed the little boy’s hands, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest.
They were tiny replicas of his own.
Chapter Eight
Carrie shielded the child against her chest. “Back away,” she warned.
Sam steeled himself. He had to think of Duke.
Roy strode forward. “Sam, what are you doing?”
“You were right in the first place,” he ground out, trying his damndest to stay calm, to not alarm the child. His child. “We need to speak alone.”
“Take Duke back to the hotel, Carrie,” Roy said calmly.
“But the car… How will you—”
“I’ll find a ride. Just go. Now.”
Carrie stood and ushered Duke away.
Roy sank down on the bench that they had vacated. “Do you really want to turn his life upside down?”