Return of the Secret Heir Read Online Free PDF Page B

the eldest of Warner Bramson’s sons. The only time he’d ever lost a fight was when Pia had left him. And soon he’d rectify that, too. Now he’d seen her again, tasted her, he’d have her back in his bed one final time before this was over.

Three
    P ia watched JT leaning back against a countertop in her kitchen and her heart ached for him. She didn’t doubt the story—she’d wanted Warner Bramson’s account because she’d suspected as much. But she hadn’t heard the details before, hadn’t known Theresa had been told to get an abortion. She shuddered.
    JT had never had much of a family—he was an only child with a single mother. Now he’d discovered who his biological father was and had two newfound half brothers, but they didn’t want him. Were actually working to keep him locked out. He wouldn’t have expected to be welcomed into the family fold, but still the rejection had to hurt the lost boy deep inside him.
    Once upon a time, they’d almost made a family together—JT and her, and their baby. They’d had such magnificent plans for their future, but she and JT had been apart for the fourteen years since then, and their baby hadnever drawn breath. The heavy emptiness of grief for that little life descended over her shoulders, pressing down.
    â€œDo you ever think about our baby?” she whispered, leaning back against the kitchen counter across from him.
    His eyes widened for a second and dark pain swam in their depths. She guessed this wasn’t a topic he usually talked about either. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought it up—it was too intimate, they didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore.
    He cleared his throat and jerked his head in a nod. “All the time.”
    A little part of the wall she’d erected around her heart crumbled at his admission. That wall had been protecting her from the unbearable feelings of loss since the terrible day their baby died when she’d fallen from her bedroom window on her way to meet JT.
    She’d been twenty weeks pregnant and had just told her parents. Their solution was to move her away for the rest of the pregnancy and then adopt the baby out. Frantic, she’d rung JT and they’d made a rushed plan to run far away that night. She’d packed a few things together, and on the climb out the second-story window—a climb she’d done hundreds of times before—she fell. Her parents rushed her to the hospital, but no one had been able to save her baby.
    Afterward she’d pushed JT away—she’d had no choice. But having him here, their both feeling the same loss, made it a little safer to say the words she couldn’t say to anyone else.
    â€œI’ve often wondered if I think about her so much because there was no closure. No body, no grave.” Her gaze drifted to her bedroom door, where her memory box was concealed at the back of the cupboard. “There was never a chance to grieve properly. My parents wanted the whole episode swept under the carpet.”
    His eyes flashed fire at the mention of her parents. “They shouldn’t have done that,” he said, then his voice softened. “There might not have been a body or grave, but there is something.”
    Something? Her heart missed a beat. “What do you mean?”
    JT opened his mouth, then hesitated, as if engaging in an internal debate. Then, holding her gaze, he nodded, decision made. “Grab a coat. I’ll show you.”
    â€œOn your bike?” she said skeptically, looking out the window at the silver machine he’d ridden over.
    He followed her line of vision and frowned. “Good point. I don’t have a second helmet. We’ll take your car.”
    As he took a step toward the door, she held up a hand. This was going too fast; she couldn’t think straight. “Hang on. I haven’t agreed to go anywhere with you.”
    With an