Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense) Read Online Free PDF

of his life, and maybe it made him a terrible son, but he could summon no emotion, no loyalty for his father.
    Lying in the quiet room, all he could think about was getting the hell out of this place.
    With a sigh, he looked around for anything that might reveal information about his identity. He thought he was in pretty good shape, could feel his leashed strength. But he had no idea what he looked like.
    A small mirror sat on the bedside table, left there earlier by a gum-snapping nurse.
    He reached for it, hesitated, then peered cautiously into the mirror. Suspicious green eyes stared back.
    His resemblance to the old man was striking.
    He had short medium-brown hair. A slight tan line along his forehead indicated a recent haircut. His eyes were dark green and fringed with stubby black lashes. He frowned. He didn’t know why, but he felt the eyes were too memorable . An ironic reaction, given his circumstances.
    Looking more closely at his nose, he realized a slight bump marred its line, indicating it had been broken at one time. Raising his free hand, he traced a small scar that ran from the edge of his right eye almost to his hairline. He wondered if he’d been in a fight or an accident. He felt a brief twinge of remembered pain.
    “Chicks dig scars.”
    He frowned. Whose voice did he hear in the cavernous recesses of his memory?
    He stared into the mirror for a long moment and then curved his lips in a mockery of a smile. Ah hell, he had a dimple. He frowned at his gut reaction. Apparently, he disliked both green Jell-O and dimples.
    Tired of examining his features and weary of thoughts that circled round and round, solving nothing, he lay back down and pretended to sleep. It surprised him how strongly he disliked the fact that he resembled his father.
    The hair wasn’t exactly the same color, but it was close. They both had square jaws, but where Alistair’s face was distinguished with perfect features and an aura of aristocracy, Thomas’s face had a rugged cast. Their eyes, however, were distinctive and identical.
    When he heard the door open, he kept his eyes closed, his face blank. “Thomas, my boy.” His father’s voice grated on his nerves. If he had been sleeping, dear old dad would have woken him without a second thought. “I have a surprise for you.”
    Opening his eyes, he froze and then sat up in the bed, never taking his eyes off the sight before him. His father held a baby in his arms.
    “This, Thomas, is your son.”
    He felt a sharp pain in his chest and sucked in a sharp breath as all sounds in the room faded into oppressive silence. He had a son?
    The child began to fuss, his whimpering quickly turning into a full-throated cry. The same cry he’d heard down the hall. His son had been crying for…how long? Two days that he could remember. How many days had it been before he regained consciousness? Somehow, he was certain Alistair hadn’t comforted the baby. He stared at the child and then held out his arms. “I’d like to hold him.”
    Alistair handed him the squalling infant. He cradled the small boy in his arms, quieting him immediately. The baby looked at him with curious green eyes and smiled. He had a dimple. Tears filled Thomas’s eyes and his heart felt heavy in his chest.
    For the first time since he’d woken up, something felt right.
    The shrill ring of a cell phone interrupted the reunion. He tore his eyes from his son to see Alistair pull his phone from his pocket and glance at the screen.
    “I’ll be back,” he barked as he exited the room, leaving Thomas alone with…dear God, he didn’t even know his son’s name. Didn’t know his name or where his mother was, if he sucked his thumb or a pacifier, or who’d cared for him over the past two days.
    “Hel-lo, son,” he whispered. He tried again. “Hello, son. It’s me, your dad.”
    The little boy clasped his finger, holding tight. Thomas placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, breathing deeply of his baby smell. “I