Ripper by Ingrid Seymour

Author:Ingrid Seymour [Seymour, Ingrid]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PenDreams
Published: 2016-05-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27 - Greg

Greg and Sam told their story from the beginning. They told Mateo about her adoptive parents, the attempts on her life, their visit to Rothblade Castle, Veridan’s perusal through Sam’s memories, Bernard’s repaired vinculum and, finally, their escape.

About halfway through the story, Mateo had sat at the edge of his chair, elbows on thighs, and lowered his gaze, listening intently. When they finished, he clasped the side of his head as if to keep it from exploding.

Greg exchanged a tired glance with Sam. He didn’t want to pressure the guy—this was a lot to unload on anyone—but exhaustion was beginning to eat at the edges of his thoughts, and he didn’t think he could stay upright much longer. Sam gave him a slow nod and gestured with her beautiful eyes, a silent request for him to be patient. She had to be dead tired, too, especially after her ordeal with Elizabeth. Her strength and will never ceased to amaze him.

He smiled and faked a sigh for her benefit, since Mateo was too lost in his own thoughts to notice anything.

They waited for another moment, and this time it was Sam who couldn’t wait any longer. “So, do you think it’s possible? Do you think I could be Roanna and Bernard’s daughter?”

Mateo straightened. His restless hands stayed on his thighs, worrying at the fabric of his pants. Tufts of hair stuck out at every angle. His black eyes looked as sharp as before, but there was a heaviness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Sixteen,” Sam answered.

“When is your birthday?”

“April 23rd.”

Mateo pressed a hand to his mouth and funneled his breath through his closed fist. “Damn, if you’re not Celestine, that’s a heck of a coincidence. That was the day she was born. When I dropped her off at that hospital, it was the only information I left behind. I wrote it on a piece of paper and pinned it to her clothes. At the time, I wasn’t sure why I did it. I guess Fate has been working on this plan for a fortnight.”

Greg hadn’t heard that expression in a long time. His mom used to always say that when little coincidences happened, like when she walked into the kitchen right before the pot boiled over.

“It’s an old saying,” Mateo explained when he noticed Sam’s confused expression. “You do resemble Roanna, now that I think about it.”

A small gasp escaped Sam. Greg had been watching as she tried to keep it together, but her emotions finally got the best of her. She leaned into him, eyes full of tears. She whispered his name into his t-shirt and pressed her face to his chest. He held her tight.

Since he met Sam five months ago, the thought of finding her real parents had haunted her, an urge more overwhelming than a splinter stuck in her eyeball. The fact that her question now had an answer had to be overwhelming.

“It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear.

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