Colorado Hitch (4 page)

“Davis, let me tell you—”

He held up his hand and shook his head. “No. I can’t… I just can’t right now. I need a few minutes.” Davis ran out of the office and into the hall, stopping to catch his breath as he tried to wrap his mind around what he’d just learned. His dad wasn’t his dad. How the hell had that happened?

Davis pulled the keys from his pocket and stared at them for a long moment. Leaving Duff here to get home on his own would be wrong. He may be angry, and he might not be able to stay at the ranch after hearing he wasn’t Duff’s biological child, but he wouldn’t abandon Duff in town.

The door opened behind him and he turned as Duff stepped out of the office and into the hall. Their gazes met and held. Pain knifed his heart and he shook his head, turning away from the man who he’d thought was his father.

“Can we talk about this when we get home?” Duff said.

Davis shook his head. “I can’t. I… hell, I just can’t. Maybe later.”

“Davis, there are things you don’t know, and I—”

He held up his hand, cutting Duff off. “Not now.”

Davis headed out to the truck with Duff following. He helped Duff settle and went around to the driver’s side, stopping before stepping one foot in the cab. The bomb Duff had dropped on him was too big. Who was he if he wasn’t Duff’s son?

After a few deep breaths, he hopped into the truck and turned over the engine, popping it into gear. Duff didn’t say anything on the way home, and he was silent, too, unsure any words would be appropriate in this situation.

When he pulled up at the ranch, he hopped out, not waiting for Duff to speak. He heard Duff call for him but he didn’t stop. Getting his things and leaving was the only thing he could think of. He stepped into the house and saw Ryan. Thick emotions froze him in place. There was no way in the world he could walk away from Ryan, but he couldn’t face Duff, not right now.

The door banged closed behind him, and everyone glanced up. Grant smiled and waved. “Hey, Duff, Davis, how was the appointment?”

Silence held Davis. His anger was too high, and he didn’t want to blow up in front of this crowd. He headed to his bedroom, unable to stay near the man he’d thought was his dad until less than an hour ago. Uncomfortable silence followed him. He did hear Duff mumble something, but he wasn’t really paying attention. A few seconds after he'd closed his bedroom door, it opened. He turned to see Ryan entering.

“Babe, what happened?” Ryan sat on the bed, his brows raised in concern.

Davis’s mind still spun out of control, and he shook his head. “I don’t know. I was at the appointment with Duff, and the doctor was telling me to get tested to see if I have a predisposition to heart disease then Duff told me I wasn’t his son.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide and his mouth hung open as he stood and took a step toward Davis. “Come again?”

“I’m not his kid.” Saying the words hurt. “He’s not my dad.”

“Come here.” Ryan opened his arms, and Davis went to him, sighing as he melted against his lover. They said nothing as he clung to Ryan. Every breath hurt, every thought was painful. How could his parents not be his parents?

There was a knock at his door, and he froze as panic raced through him. Ryan leaned back and caught Davis’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Ryan’s clear green eyes were full of compassion, but held a hint of steel. There was no doubt in his mind that Ryan would push him to talk to Duff, not allowing him to hide in his pain.

“I won’t leave your side. Open the door and just listen to what they have to say,” Ryan said.

The knock sounded again, and Davis’s head started to pound. He didn’t want to talk to Duff, but he didn’t really have a choice. Ryan moved to the door and slowly opened it, his gaze staying on Davis. Duff was there, his head hung low. Grant was behind him, his hand on Duff’s shoulder. Marshal came up behind them, his brows knit together in concern. Ryan stepped back and the men entered their room. Grant squared his shoulders and nodded to Ryan first then turned to face Davis.

“I don’t know the full story, but you need to listen to what Duff has to say. After that, you can make a decision about what you want to do. Okay?”

Davis nodded and moved closer to Ryan. The room was cramped and there wasn’t any place for them to sit. Duff, though not his biological father, was still someone he’d cared about.

“We need to move somewhere else,” Davis said.

“Um, we could stay here.” Duff shifted from one foot to another, never quite meeting Davis’s gaze.

“No.” Davis shook his head. “We need a place to sit. It’s too much for you to stand for a long time.”

Duff frowned and looked like he was about to say something when Grant spoke. “Follow me.”

Grant led them to the room they used when they planned missions. Davis noticed that the rest of the guys were gone from the den and silence filled the house. They entered the control room, and Grant moved chairs around a table so they were facing each other. Duff sat back in his chair, his gaze locked onto Davis. The pain in his eyes made Davis cringe.

“I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to say.” Davis didn’t want to be angry, but how could he accept what he’d been told. Everything in his past had been a lie.

Duff nodded and placed both hands on the table. “It’s a long story, and I’m going to try to tell it all. Some of the things may be painful to hear. I want Grant and Marshal here because they are taking over for me. Both of them need to know this story.”

Davis nodded and sat back, trying not to make any quick judgments. Ryan reached over and took his hand. Peace filled him knowing that Ryan was there for him. He wasn’t sure he would have the strength to hear what his dad said if he didn’t have Ryan by his side. It was weird that someone he hadn’t known for long was so important to him, and Ryan was very important.

Chapter Six

Duff squirmed, wishing that he could keep the secret forever, but he had to tell the truth. Had he already explained the situation to Davis, today would have gone a lot smoother. However, if Davis knew about his past, then everything would be different. He’d kept this lie for years, never speaking of it, because he knew this truth had the potential to get totally out of hand.

In the beginning, only the six of them involved in the deception knew what had really gone down. When his wife had passed away, that left five. Then Bryce had died and there were four. Gene and his wife, Birdie, were too old to remember much, which meant he and Jamie were the only ones left, and Jamie would never tell a soul. So it was up to him to tell Davis what had happened so very long ago.

He closed his eyes and shook his head as the memories flooded him. When he started speaking, his voice shook and he hated the weakness that claimed his strength. “It started innocently enough—well, innocent enough given the circumstances. You have to remember that times were different. The cold war was in full swing, and Vietnam had just ended. There wasn’t the current oversharing that goes on with social media. Life was very prescribed. News was channeled to the networks and highly controlled. If we didn’t want a story told, it wasn’t.”

The door opened, and Roger came in, bringing a pitcher of water, coffee, and sodas. He placed the tray on the table and left. Grant poured a glass of water and handed it to Duff. He took a sip then continued speaking.

“Like I said, it was a different time, and we were running multiple operations that were imperative to national security. There were six of us, your mother included. We were all living in Russia. Our mission was to infiltrate the government and become friends with the generals in their army. We needed information. You have to understand that we thought the Soviets were going to kill us all.”

Duff took another sip of water, the memories coming back. He’d loved living in Russia. Beth wasn’t the typical military wife and that’s why they’d scored the assignment. He was a young Marine, moving up in the world, and Beth was amazing.

“Living in Russia was interesting. We had friends, and they really thought we were from their country. We all spoke fluent Russian and blended in. Anyway, your mother got pregnant. It wasn’t planned, and the pregnancy was more difficult than we'd been prepared for. But your mother, being who she was, wasn’t willing to give up on our progress. We had learned of an operation the Soviets were planning and our position was secure. Near the end of your mother’s pregnancy, we traveled to an estate north of Saint Petersburg. It was different from Moscow, more relaxed. The rules for their army officers were more lenient outside of the Capitol City. We spent time together, drank together, became closer. There were other women in Saint Petersburg, the wives of their leaders. It was supposed to be a happy time. We all were celebrating our impending takeover of the west. None of them knew we were spies.”

Davis leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. His eyes were still narrowed, but the harsh downward tilt of his lips was gone. Duff drew in a slow breath, knowing that this was where the story would get tricky. He continued on, telling Davis, Ryan, Marshal, and Grant how everything had gone to hell and how they'd escaped.

Duff rolled out of bed, wondering if today would be the day they were found out. Beth was still sleeping soundly. She was on her side, snoring softly. Part of him wanted the baby to be a girl, but another part wanted a boy. He would be happy as long as the child was safe. Their baby being born in the Soviet Union bugged him. He didn’t want his child to grow up as a Russian citizen, but they had a job to do. Maybe they should have left when Beth figured out she was pregnant. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but she’d insisted they stay. Hell, she was the real reason they had gotten this job. The information they'd gathered could save lives, and that was more important than anything else to Beth. She was such a wonderful woman, and he prayed she would forgive him for making her have her first child in Russia. They would have to leave before the kid started to understand what was happening around them. There wasn’t any way a two-year-old could keep a secret, and their true lives were very much secret.

Duff dressed quickly, tugging on the Soviet-made clothes, the Soviet boots, and styling his hair like his Soviet counterparts. He played the part of a Russian very well for a boy born in the middle of America, raised on beef, mashed potatoes, and corn. He lived, breathed, and bled patriotism, and that’s why he was willing to risk everything by living in the U.S.S.R.

He met up with Gene and headed to the conference room where the generals were meeting. Today, they were going to detail more of their plans. Brezhnev was due to arrive in the evening, and he didn’t want to miss one minute of the event.

The thrill of being able to sit in on a meeting with the leader of the Communist party was nearly overwhelming. This was the type of gathering where they would learn information that could save their nation. Being privy to state secrets of this level was above anything he’d ever dreamt of. Few other military officers from the United States would ever be afforded this opportunity.

The day was full of meeting after meeting. He, Gene, and Jamie were working hard to convince the other generals that they were legitimate while trying not to let anything slip. It was hard to keep up the charade with the American hate they all displayed when they got going. He could see Bryce slipping at the end of another very long day. General Volikov was called out of the room and came back after forty minutes. He was all smiles and announced that his wife had just had a baby. Duff had bonded with Volikov, since Beth was also pregnant, and went over to hug him. Volikov poured drink after drink, getting a little too tipsy before Brezhnev arrived. On their last vodka, Volikov decided the two of them should continue the party after Brezhnev finished. He invited Duff to his cabin to meet his new baby. Duff couldn’t turn down the invitation.

Brezhnev was an ass of epic proportions. He was loud, obnoxious, and a drunken womanizer. No matter how the Communist party painted itself to the public, behind closed doors they were money-mongering pigs, who liked what their stolen wealth could buy. They stayed up way too late with Brezhnev, but Volikov demanded Duff come home with him though the hour was after midnight. He felt guilty for leaving Beth alone for so long so close to the end of her pregnancy but he had a job to do, and she was nothing but understanding.

Volikov and he became best buddies after that night. When Beth went into labor a week later, Volikov sent over his favorite nurse. The birth was hard on Beth, and he could tell right off something wasn’t quite right. Their beautiful baby girl seemed perfect, but it took a while for her to breathe and she never ate well, even after those first few days. He hid his concern because the nurse wasn’t upset, and Beth didn’t seem to be too worried. Plus, they were in a foreign country with nowhere to turn.

Beth wanted to name the girl Sheila, and he agreed that it was a perfect name. She was sweet, and amazing, and he fell in love in seconds, wondering how he could keep her safe in this dangerous world. The Soviet winters were harsh, and Sheila had a tough time with her lungs in those first few weeks. He found the medical expertise lacking and more than once wondered if Sheila would be healthier if they lived in the U.S.A. He wanted to flee, but he didn’t know how to escape. When Sheila caught a cold two weeks after her birth, it devastated her immune system. Beth was beyond distraught, blaming herself for staying in the Soviet Union when she was pregnant. He blamed himself, too, but he knew that sometimes life sucked. It was the hardest thing he’d ever been through.

Two days later, after he’d spent sleepless nights trying to comfort his infant, he’d received word that Brezhnev had learned of someone infiltrating the government. Brezhnev was looking for a scapegoat and he found one in Volikov. For some reason, the man was fingered as being the weak link in the Soviet military, and Duff feared it was because of him. Volikov’s family came under fire, and Duff knew it was only a matter of time before something bad happened, but Sheila was so sick and Beth was dealing with enough already.

They were living in a cottage not too far from Volikov’s place when the ax came down. Beth was worried about the baby, since she was still sick, and had asked Volikov’s wife, Katina, for help. She came over with her baby and the nurse. Her boy was healthy, so much healthier than Sheila, and Duff was jealous. Guilt filled him over staying in Russia. Katina was nice and didn’t leave Beth’s side, though it was getting late.

A little after midnight, they were still up because Sheila was doing so very poorly. If they were in the states, he would have taken her to a hospital. A knock sounded at the door, and he had a feeling it wasn’t good news. Though he wanted to ignore the outside world, he opened to find a wide-eyed servant of Volikov’s standing on their stoop, his shirt torn with blood smeared down the front. Volikov sent word to Katina, Brezhnev was going to kill her, and their baby. It was over for them though Volikov tried to convince Brezhnev they’d done nothing wrong, there was no changing his mind.

Duff stopped talking and cleared his throat, taking another drink of water. “Davis, I hope you can understand why we did what we did. You were going to be killed by Brezhnev and made an example of to show Soviet’s power. Sheila had taken a bad turn, and sometime after the man had shown up to give us the note, she passed away. It was an impossible decision giving her to Katina and taking you. But Katina kissed you on the head and shoved you into my arms. She made me promise I wouldn’t ever tell, I wouldn’t ever lose you, that you would be raised an American and be kept safe. She knew we were the Americans because we’d slipped up during Sheila’s birth, and the nurse had told her. Katina and Volikov were in trouble, and she knew how the Soviets acted. They would kill her and her family and our family, too. Your only hope of survival was if we left Russia with you. She wanted you to be free.”

Duff drew in a ragged breath before meeting Davis’s gaze again. He’d loved the boy, no question, and now he loved the man. “Davis, not one day has gone by that I haven’t thanked the heavens that we were there to save you, and honestly, not one day has gone by that I haven’t loved you as my own son. You are my son.”

“You mean I’m Russian?” Davis asked.

Duff nodded, his heart shattering once again over the loss of his daughter, the situation they’d been thrown into, and the deception he’d perpetuated by taking Davis from the life he was supposed to have, though it most likely would have been very short lived because of the circumstances of the era.

“Yes. You were born in Russia to Russian parents. We traveled from Saint Petersburg to Estonia on a piece of crap ship that I was sure would sink. We barely escaped, and when we got home to the United States, we were given the birth certificate you have now. All records of you being born in the Soviet Union were erased. As far as anyone in the world knows, you are my son, born in America.”