“Mac isn’t who you think she is.”
Raven and Jonah set eyes on me, waiting.
“She’s my foster sister from a long time ago, but she’s changed her appearance and her name, so I didn’t recognize her.”
Raven covers her mouth and looks up at her husband before swinging her gaze back to mine.
“About six months ago, when I found out she’d been lying to me, I”—I shrug—“I chased her off. Whatever trouble she’s in, it’s my fault.” I breathe through the stifling pain of the truth. “Fuck. She didn’t look the same. Mac looked nothing like the little redheaded girl I remember. Her real name is Georgia McIntyre. I don’t know—”
“What did you say?” Raven’s voice is cold. Her face drained of color.
Jonah reaches out holds her hand. “Baby?”
“I said I don’t know much about her except—”
“Her name.” Raven leans toward me, eyes intent. “What did you say her name was?”
I look at Jonah and he nods. “Georgia McIntyre.”
“Oh my gosh.” She cups her mouth and swivels her chair to a box behind her. Doubled over, she digs through file after file before pulling out a thick manila envelope. With shaky hands, she rips through its contents, pulling out stacks of papers.
She hands me a file folder. “Open it.” Standing, she curls into her husband.
What the hell is in this file that has her so freaked out?
I flip to the first page. My breath catches in my throat when I’m met with the familiar face of my past. Goose bumps race across the back of my neck. My heart bangs in my chest.
My Gia, the little girl with flaming orange hair and big gray eyes. Her full lips are a miniature size of what they’ve become, and her pale cheeks are flushed pink in her youth.
“How do you . . .?” I look up to Raven who is now folded into Jonah’s arms, her face pressed against his chest. “I don’t understand.”
“After he died, I got all his stuff. There were so many names: women and a few children. I assumed he kept tabs on the women who worked for him. I kept it for Raven’s Nest, just in case someone needed information. I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but all those names were attached to a life. It felt wrong throwing it out. You said red hair.” She shakes her head. “I recognized the name.”
“Ridley Mental Institution.” I flip through the pages and see a few hand-scribbled notes. “Delusional. Hallucinations. Psychotic?”
My chin drops to my chest as a wave of shame crashes over me. I called her all those things the night I realized who she was. I was so wrong. She’s no different from me, traumatized by a life she didn’t get to choose, the product of someone’s fucked-up idea of parenting.
But a mental institution? I struggle to connect the dots. In the picture, she doesn’t look much older than she did when I knew her. She had to have been committed by a guardian. But why? There are so many other ways to abandon a kid. Why lock them up?
At the back of the file, I find her information page. Georgia McIntyre. Age eight. Parents deceased. I rake my eyes down to the bottom of the page.
Committed by legal guardian.
Signature.
Dominick Morretti.
“What the fuck!” I drop the file and jump up from my seat. My hand darts out, pointing at the offending pages. “How . . .?” I shake my head.
Jonah grabs the file off the floor, and I watch in horror as his eyes follow the path mine just did. His face falls slack. Eyes wide. “Holy motherfucking shit.”
“Jonah?” Raven pulls the file from his hand, reads it, and within seconds, she’s folded deep into her husband’s arms. “How is that possible?”
“Don’t know, baby.” His eyes find mine and hatred for is wife’s birth father flames behind his eyes.
I’m stunned. Fucking floored. Dominick and Mac connected? And how in the hell did a scumbag dick like him become her legal guardian? From her evil-as-shit parents, into the disgusting world of an egomaniac pimp, off to a mental institution, and then into my arms? And Hatch? Damn. Here I thought I had it bad. I can’t even begin to imagine the things Gia has seen, how she’s suffered.
Probably suffers still.
“We need to find her.” If it’s not too late. Why didn’t I let her explain? She begged me to listen. I swallow the boulder of emotion that clogs my throat. “I have to bring her home.”
Raven pulls free of Jonah’s arms and resumes her place at the computer. She swipes at the rogue tears that slide down her cheeks. “Do you have any idea where we should be looking? Did Hatch ever mention a town, restaurant, highway number?”
I pull up the closest chair to look over her shoulder. “Trix mentioned Colorado, but she wasn’t sure. She also said she heard the guys mention a place called The Devils Hog.”
She clicks on something, rips out a disc, and pops in a new one. “Good enough, at least it’s a start.”