Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) by Candle Sutton (best motivational novels txt) 📕

His mouth parted and his eyes widened.

“Can I help you?” She kept her words brusque and short, leaving no doubt that she did not welcome his intrusion.

“You look just like her.” His gaze drank her in, not in a creepy stalker sort of way, but in the fond way of an old friend.

But he was not her friend. In fact, she was reasonably confident they’d never met.

He stood several inches taller than she did, probably five-nine or five-ten, and carried a few extra pounds around his midsection. His thin goatee matched his silver hair. Crow’s feet crinkled around both eyes and the skin in his tan cheeks had a little too much sag.

His words, the only ones he’d spoken so far, echoed in her mind. You look just like her.

The chill raced from her fingers up her arms, settling around her heart.

Her. Who was he talking about?

Be polite. End this fast.

She shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry. Who?”

At best, this guy was lost or confused. At worst, he was a creep.

Either way, she needed to end this and get him off her porch.

“My Charlie. Kevyn, there’s…” He blew out a long breath and raked his fingers through his short hair.

He knew her name! And her mother’s nickname!

Well, there went her lost and confused option.

Which left creep. Maybe even creepy stalker. After all, he knew her name and where she lived.

“Look. I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave. Now. If this is important, you can find me at the Federal Building with the rest of the FBI agents any day of the week.”

She stepped back and started to close the door.

“Wait!” His hand shot out, palm landing flat against the door’s surface. “I’m really botching this. I’ve rehearsed it so many times and now…” He focused direct eyes on her.

The bright porch lights reflected off the moisture lingering in his eyes.

Eyes that were an unusual shade of green. Mostly evergreen, with hints of sage around the edges.

A color she’d only ever seen in one place.

The mirror.

A brick dropped into her stomach. Air escaped from lungs which had forgotten how to function.

“My name’s Mitch Taylor.” A smile filled with fake confidence wobbled onto his face. “I’m your father.”

Father.

The word echoed in her mind as her body froze.

All the words she’d ever wanted to say, things she’d hashed out in her mind countless times over the years, fled.

Her father. On her doorstep. After a thirty-five year absence.

His smile, whether genuine or not, gained traction. “Yeah, I guess this would be a surprise. I mean, it’s been so long and all.”

“Thirty-five years!” The words burst from her as she charged through the door, forcing him to stumble back several steps. “And you have the gall to show up on my doorstep now?”

The smile faltered. He rolled his shoulders and tugged slightly at his collar. “Well, see, it’s uh, yeah. A long story. But I wanted–”

“I don’t give a rip what you want!” She could hardly hear anything over the pounding in her ears. Narrowed vision blacked out everything but him. The man who had the nerve to call himself her father. “You weren’t there! Not when we needed you. Not when Mum worked two jobs to provide for us. Not at holidays or birthdays. Not when Mum battled cancer for two years. Two years!”

His face took on an ashen hue in the dusk. “I – I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t! You walked away and never looked back!”

A flush crept up his neck. “You don’t know–”

“I don’t need to know anything else! You left. A father doesn’t do that.” Calm down. The words raced through her mind in repetition.

She was losing it. Giving him a power over her that he didn’t deserve.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she glared at the man who dared to return. “You weren’t there when we needed you and I sure as heck don’t need you now. Get off my property.”

He held out his hands in a placating fashion. “Look. Kevyn, you’re upset. I get that. But couldn’t you at least hear me out?”

A short laugh burst from her. “You’re at least thirty years too late for that. Leave. Now. Before I arrest you for trespassing.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Whirling, she stomped into the house and slammed the door behind her.

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His wallet. Where was his wallet?

Dak blew out a frustrated breath as he stood at the gas tank and felt his pockets. Not here.

And he knew he hadn’t set it inside his Jeep.

Still, he searched the interior for good measure.

Nope, not there. He must’ve left it at Kevyn’s.

Looked like he wouldn’t be fueling up right now. Or heading home like he’d hoped.

He’d be turning around and retracing his steps.

Better let Kevyn know he was coming.

Tapping out a quick text, he set his phone aside and pulled away from the pump.

At least he hadn’t gotten too far away. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to make the drive.

A shiny red sportscar parked across the street from Kevyn’s house caught his attention. Looked like a Porsche. A fairly new one. He’d never seen it around before. Not that he was over here daily or anything, but a car like that attracted attention.

As he approached her house, he spotted a man standing on Kevyn’s porch.

His pulse spiked. Kevyn stood a few feet away from the man, her body rigid, her finger pointing toward the street.

Unless he missed his guess, she was ordering the man away.

He pulled into her driveway in time to see her go inside her house and slam the door.

The man didn’t move, but continued staring at the door.