Sinking only a second before, everything he was shot violently down to the floor and he thought he might lose his mind, his control, what mattered. She was getting into it now, oh yes. She had been rehearsing this from Peter’s conception waiting only until now to lay it all on him. Lay it on thick. Donovan was on fire. What it was like to burn alive, he now understood in every capacity. It was listening to her. Listening to her tell him that Peter was not biologically Christian’s that she had been waiting and then, the kill point and what he had feared most. ” He’s your son, Donovan. ” Still as stone, he didn’t breathe. The guilt that he had been living with, all of it his and his alone, the punishment, the sorrow. It had not been his to hold, no, he had been doing it for her. He had been doing everything for her. For her to turn around and so blatantly betray him in this way, it was unforgivable. It threw everything out the window, starting with his composure. “You bitch…” he said, starting out slowly, when he could will himself to talk to her as she looked up at him. Oh, the effort it took to look back into those eyes of hers as the blood beneath his skin boiled, his rage hitting him in a way he could not once remember feeling. This was beyond anything. “You said he was Christian’s.” The wound was clear in his voice as he struggled to comprehend, but there was something under it, livid and beating. “How the fuck could you do that?”
