Page 22

CASPER’S MIND DRIFTED away from Marie’s sweet, syrupy tone as he fixed his gaze on Nettie and his men, who were already pulling away, leaving him to grapple with this unexpected turn of events. He turned back to the duo, a flicker of doubt gnawing at him regarding Marie’s explanation. “Let’s find a quieter spot to talk, away from all these curious ears,” he proposed.

“Sounds perfect,” Marie replied, a hint of longing in her eyes. “Especially since they didn’t serve us breakfast on the flight.”

“Where did you park?” he asked, a knot forming in his stomach as he braced for her response.

“Oh, we didn’t park anywhere, darling. We just flew in from Chicago,” she said nonchalantly as if that information wouldn’t send his heart racing.

“A rental, then?” he pressed, knowing he was being roped into acting as their chauffeur for whatever destination they had in mind.

“Nope, no rental. We were planning to catch a ride to your mom’s house to find you,” she replied, her tone casual, but the implications hung thick in the air.

“That was quite a gamble,” he replied, disbelief coloring his words. “Especially considering I don’t even live here anymore.”

“And yet,” Marie countered, a knowing smile creeping onto her lips, “here you are.”

Yes, Casper thought bitterly, here he was—caught in a tangled web of memories, facing the woman who had shattered his heart in their teenage years, and now, standing beside her was the girl who claimed to be his daughter.

As they crowded into his rugged Jeep, the air buzzing with anticipation, Casper stole a sideways glance at the girl who had yet to utter a word. He turned to her and asked, “Kayla, how old are you?”

Kayla lifted her chin defiantly, her expression a mix of pride and rebellion. “Sixteen,” she replied.

Sitting in the front passenger seat, Marie quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “Huh,” she commented dryly. “Going on thirty.”

Kayla redirected her gaze to her mother, a curious spark in her eyes. “Okay, so I’ve met him. May I have my phone back now?”

With a resigned sigh, Marie rummaged through her purse and produced a sleek, modern cell phone, handing it over to her daughter. “She wouldn’t come unless I took away the one thing she holds dear—that cursed cell phone,” she said with a hint of exasperation.

“I’m going to be an influencer,” Kayla declared, her excitement bubbling through her words as she cradled her phone like a prized trophy.

Casper observed the dynamic between mother and daughter, a curious blend of tension and affection. He couldn’t help but wonder why Marie had chosen this moment—of all moments—to introduce them. Questions swirled in his mind, but he hesitated to voice them before Kayla. Yet, he realized he needed clarity. “It’s still breakfast time, so only a few spots are open,” he said thoughtfully, “but I know a place where we can talk.”

Casper navigated the winding roads toward Gulf Island, a quaint enclave synonymous with JD and Cassie. As he approached a charming little breakfast spot renowned for its decadent omelets, the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the rustic establishment. Since breakfast hour was nearing its end, he was relieved to find the place relatively empty, offering a cocoon of privacy for the critical conversation ahead.

As he stepped out of his Jeep, his gaze landed on Kayla, who was meticulously documenting her surroundings, her eyes glued to her phone with the focus of an artist at work.

“She’s live, most likely,” Marie remarked, irritation lacing her tone. “She’s always live. It’s like living inside a reality show—complete with the drama.”

Casper shot her a raised eyebrow, curiosity blooming. “And you just let this happen?”

Marie let out a frustrated sigh. “What choice do I have? Just wait. You’ll see for yourself.”

Unease fluttered in Casper’s stomach, but he suppressed it for now, focusing instead on finding a cozy table once they were inside. “Kayla,” he called gently, waiting for her to break away from her screen. When she finally acknowledged him, she smirked into the camera and said, “This is supposedly my dad. The one who abandoned me and Mom when she was pregnant.”

A surge of anger coursed through Casper at the distortion of truth. He quickly reached out, snatching the phone from her grasp, and decisively ended the live stream.

“Hey!” Kayla protested, lunging for the device. “Give me that back!”

“No,” Casper responded firmly. “Not when you’re spreading lies like that. Right now, we’ll sit down and have a nice meal.” With that, he tucked her phone securely into his pocket and guided her through the restaurant’s entrance, the door swinging closed behind them, blocking out the chatter of the outside world.

Once settled into their seats, Kayla leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with determination as she asked for her phone again. Casper shot her an admonishing glare. “Not at the table.” The words slipped out, reminding him of his mother’s persistent nagging, and he cursed himself internally. The last thing he wanted was for their private exchange to be splattered all over Kayla’s social media feeds. The thought of it going viral sent a shiver down his spine.

A hollow sensation nestled in his stomach as he scanned the menu where hunger once resided. It starkly contrasted the warmth that had flickered in Nettie’s eyes when they last parted. Memories of her and the crew leaving the airport rushed back, quickly overshadowed by Marie and Kayla’s uneasy presence. Any connection he once felt with Nettie had faded into the background, eclipsed by the chaotic swirl of emotions brought on by their sudden arrival.

As the morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the table, a heated debate simmered between Kayla and Casper over the day’s breakfast choices. Casper, growing increasingly frustrated by Kayla’s obstinate attitude, sensed that her constant whining and pleas for her phone were a ploy to provoke him. He tuned out her complaints and shifted his focus to Marie, his expression firm and expectant. “Now, Marie, explain.”

With a hesitant breath, Marie began, her lip trembling slightly. “Well,” she said, glancing at Kayla before continuing, “when you left for boot camp, I was pregnant.”

Casper’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, his brow furrowing as the shock of her words settled in. “And you failed to tell me for what, sixteen years?” he shot back, incredulity lacing his tone. “As I recall, you weren’t waiting for me after I finished my training. You had already moved on with an Air Force captain.”

Across the table, Kayla’s eyes widened in astonishment, her mind racing as she processed the shocking revelation. It was painfully clear to her that the tale Marie had concocted at the airport was an elaborate fabrication.

Sensing the moment’s weight, Marie stole a sidelong glance at her daughter and let out a nervous giggle that fell flat in the charged atmosphere. “That’s not how it was, Ash,” she stammered, her voice lacking the conviction it needed.

Casper raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. “Then tell me how it was, Marie,” he demanded, his tone unyielding as the tension in the room thickened.

“Well,” Marie said, as she wet her lips, “you never wrote. I thought maybe you had changed your mind about marrying me, so I had no choice but to find someone else to help take care of our child.”

Casper clenched his fists, summoning every ounce of calm he could muster. “I wrote to you daily and mailed out letters twice a week with each day’s message.” His heart raced, fueled by anger and frustration.

Marie averted her gaze, fingers nervously twisting the napkin in her hands—his mind raced to recall that telltale sign, a surefire indicator of deception. Why was she lying?

“Bullshit,” he snapped, unable to contain himself. “You might not have received every single one, but you got some. The mail service can’t be that derelict in their duties.”

“Okay,” she finally conceded in a whisper, “I may have received one or two.”

“Let me guess,” he pressed, anger simmering just below the surface as memories of the past surged back. “I wouldn’t make enough for you as a private, so you looked for an officer instead. And since this base is nearby, an Air Force man fit the bill nicely?”

“You’re making me sound like a terrible person, Ash. That’s not how it was.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, a mix of defensiveness and guilt.

“Sounds about right to me,” chimed Kayla, taking a sip from her brightly colored straw, the sugary soda fizzing against the ice.

Marie swung her gaze toward Kayla, irritation etched on her face. “You stay out of this.”

“Sounds like I’m a big part of this,” the girl retorted, biting back tears. “Remember, I’m the consequence of your actions. Isn’t that what you always said, Mom?”

Casper felt a wave of nausea wash over him at those words. How could a mother say such a thing to her child? It was an unfathomable betrayal, and yet it echoed his painful memories of a mother who had been just as cold and calculating.

“Kayla, now is not the time to argue with me,” Marie urged. The room crackled with tension as the two women faced each other, steam practically rising from Kayla’s narrowed eyes.

Casper could feel the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on him. “So what do you want?” he asked, a wariness creeping into his voice. He’d learned by now that Marie always had an angle, a move waiting in the shadows. In his youth, he had overlooked her cunning charm, blinded by the depth of his infatuation. But maturity had peeled back the layers, revealing her strategies for what they truly were—manipulative and self-serving.

“Why, I want you to take Kayla and me in,” Marie declared, her words tinged with a false excitement that made Casper’s stomach churn. “It’s time you got to know your daughter.”

Casper’s heart plummeted. The revelation hung in the air like a storm cloud threatening to burst. If Kayla was indeed his daughter—a realization that both thrilled and terrified him—he would willingly welcome the rebellious teenager into his home. But the thought of inviting Marie back into his life felt like swallowing gravel.

His phone vibrated sharply in his pocket as he contemplated how to respond, pulling him from the spiraling thoughts. He pulled it out, feeling Kayla’s piercing glare burn through him like a laser.

With a sense of urgency, he glanced at the screen, his breath hitching as he read the text from the sheriff: “Shooter dead. Stabbed in cell.” The news washed over him like a wave, leaving him breathless. How would this new development change everything?