I answered, staring at the wall. “Gun-runners. Drug-sellers. Hitmen.”
Her head snapped to mine. “Hitmen? Like…”
“Professional killers hired on the black market. Yes. That’s where Isaiah’s father—”
I pointed my finger at Jacobi, correcting him. “Our.”
Gemma was already aware that Jacobi was my brother, so she wasn’t shocked by this.
“That’s where our father came into play. He supplied the guns to the Covens for the hitmen. He’d been selling them to Richard for years, thus bringing us all together here today.”
“That is not the reason we’re here today.” Uncle Tate lowered his legs to the ground from the window seat and placed his hands on his knees. I felt the shift in the room and bit my tongue.
“What...what do you mean?” I could hear the exhaustion within Gemma, so I pulled her back, and she rested along my chest, taking a deep breath. I know, baby. I know.
My hands rubbed at her bare arms and placed a kiss on her hair.
“You and Isaiah were in the middle of something neither one of you should have had to deal with. You being in Richard’s care from birth made you a casualty in a sick game of illegal activities. Not only the abuse that you have suffered but so much more.” My uncle turned to me. “And you, being your father’s son, had to figure out a way to save the one girl that you loved from not only your future but hers too. You two have been at the center of this the entire time. Like a bridge between two evils.”
“I don’t know if this...” I started to interject when I felt Gemma shift uncomfortably. She was looking up at me, and I clamped my mouth shut. She needed to know.
“I’m not Isaiah’s uncle, Gemma.”
I grabbed her hand tightly, and she squeezed it right back. “Then who are you?”
His eyes shut briefly. “I’m your father.”