“Yeah, I figured,” I grumble. Z’s known all this time and hasn’t said a word. I can’t decide if I appreciate him trying to respect my privacy or if I want to kick his ass. No wonder he didn’t choke me to death when I was acting like an ass to Lilly. The fucker knew exactly what was setting me off.
“Brothers, huh? Our family tree gets more snarled every time we shake another branch.” I cock my head. “What made Grinder suggest that?”
“Some things he remembered about my father.” He shakes his head, a hint of disgust clouding his expression. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think that’s the case. I respect Grinder, but he’s not a fucking scientist. He might’ve been trying to make me feel better about the situation.”
“How would knowing you and your dad nailed the same woman be helpful?”
He groans. “Can we cut the shit and get serious for a moment?”
“I am serious. Did he like walk in on them or something? Why’d he go there?”
Rock ignores my obvious attempts to steer the conversation somewhere—anywhere—else. “Marcel, what’s holding you up now? Let’s figure out the barrier so we can remove it.”
“You need to stop reading Hope’s self-help books.”
He drills me with a not-fucking-around stare.
“Okay, fine. Heidi’s pregnant. I don’t want to be responsible for something happening to the baby if I upset her.” Given how Hope ended up in the hospital after delivering the news to us, Rock should understand where I’m coming from.
He lets out a long, slow, irritated breath. “There will always be an excuse.”
Oh, fuck no. “Did you forget what happened to Hope when she told us?”
His jaw flexes, like he’s thinking of choking me. “It’s not the same.”
“The hell it’s not.”
Rock closes his eyes for a second, probably counting backward from ten. “All right. We’ve waited this long. But this can’t go on forever.”
Suspicious of how fast he’s letting this go, I stare at him. “That’s it?”
“What do you want from me, Marcel? I’m doing the best I can here. You know damn well when this gets out, the fact that we’ve held onto it so long will hurt people.” He squeezes his hands into fists. “I feel like an accessory to a crime, and I don’t like it.”
“Well, I didn’t ask for this either.”
Some days, I wish we’d never found out.