Big City Hero UNOFFICIAL BOOK TWO

Chapter Fourteen: Secrets.

Dad took the chance and launched into one of his big motivational speeches. It became apparent, after ten minutes, I was going to be home late. So much for wanting to spend a few hours with Molly.

Uncle Max caught my gaze and rolled his eyes. When it seemed like dad finished, Uncle Max clapped. "Bravo, Frank. Excellent speech. My turn?"

Dad sighed gruffly. "Fine. You two never liked my lectures anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes, I have to pick up your mother from dance class." He grabbed his keys and left the house, leaving me and my uncle alone.

With the slam of the front door still echoing, I turned to my uncle and cocked an eyebrow. "Well? What did you want to talk about?"

He drummed his fingers on the table and ran his hands through his hair. "I need to clear something up first, and I would like it if you didn't freak out about it, okay?"

"Okay." How bad can it be, anyway?

He sighed. "Remember when I said that my wife, Cindy died? Well, she didn't. She's still alive. She took Ivory and left me with." His breath hitched. "You."

It was like I was running full speed down a hallway and slammed into a brick wall. The air left my lungs and I sat in silence for a long moment. I remembered to breathe right before I fainted and sucked in a sharp breath. "Which... Which part of that am I not supposed to freak out about?"

"The fact that your mother is still alive."

I swallowed hard. "Okay... Then I can freak out about..." I held my head in my hands, but my arms buckled and I ended up banging my head on the table. I didn't care to absorb the shock. I let the unfamiliar pain do its job.

"That I'm your father? Yes, you may freak out about that."

"But-" My heart thumped painfully in my chest, I was breathing hard and shaking. Am I hyperventilating? Am I going to faint? Is this what dying feels like?

I felt a hand on my arm. "Breathe, Coal."

His touch turned to a feverish burn on my skin making me jerk away from him quickly and jump to my feet. The chair got knocked over in the process and made a horrible racket in the small space. "You're my father?"

Max looked up at me and opened his mouth to answer me, but I cut him off.

"Then why was I raised here? Why didn't you raise me? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I ran my hands through my hair and paced the old cracked kitchen floors. I couldn't think straight and I couldn't wrap my mind around the bomb he had just dropped on me.

Everything in my life, everything I was ever told and believed with all my heart, was a lie.

"If you sit down and let me, I can explain everything," he said calmly.

His calmness struck a match inside. I stopped pacing and faced him. "Explain? How do you plan to explain eighteen years of lies? Eighteen years of me wondering why I can't fit in with this family?"

"If you shut up, I can try," he snapped. He stood up roughly and stared me down. "After Cindy left with your sister, I tried caring for you. I tried to be the father I wanted to be, but every time I looked at you, I was reminded-"

"Of everything you lost, I remember," I spat. I scowled and folded my arms across my chest. I stood up straighter so he couldn't be taller than me. Hopefully, he doesn't notice that I'm flying now.

He shook his head. "It's not like what you're trying to make it out to be. From day one, I knew you were going to be special. I just didn't know how to raise you right. I didn't know how to be a father, I didn't know what you needed. Frank still had his wife, and Benjamin was born only a day later, it seemed the logical choice." He straightened his shoulders when he noticed I was taller.