Page 23 of The Wrong Reciprocation

"My name is Arturo. The only person who called me Griffin was my father."

"Your father." Twyla's face fell. "My grandfather."

They fell into an unpleasant silence, and Twyla wanted it to end but she didn't know what to say. This was the most bizarre experience of her life. So wild a story line that it seemed plucked directly from those daytime soap operas her grandmother religiously watched. Hell, the only thing that would make this more dramatic was if her grandfather popped up at the cabin claiming that he'd been in a coma for the last twenty-eight years.

"I wasn't hiding anything from you, Twyla."

Startled, and—admittedly—a little guilty, Twyla began stammering. "I wasn't—I didn't—" But…wasn't she? Didn't she? It had crossed her mind more than once since they'd been in Tennessee that maybe she was being foolish to believe he had no idea whatsoever.

When she failed to form a relevant and complete sentence, Arturo sighed and nodded.

"It's okay, Twyla. I don't fault you for believing the worst of me. I simply regret not presenting myself in such a way that it would have never crossed your mind that I could do something like that."

He took a few steps backward before turning to exit through the same door he'd come through.

The girl is sad. Mad. Wants to scream. Walks off and finds herself in the arcade thinking about how things should've been going. Turns around and the nigga is behind her.

{Sex in the arcade room}

10

FOREST FOR THE TREES

"If you were to complete the steps out of the order that I give to you then it would not matter if you had completed them correctly, for that which you wish to eradicate would not lend you peace."

Twyla's eyes popped open, the sound of Zing's husky voice slowly fading from her mind as she stared at the ceiling that was barely visible in the darkened room. Those words had gone from mildly concerning to haunting over the course of seventy-two hours. If she hadn't instantly realized that she'd screwed up the ritual, the surge of various emotions she'd experienced the moment Arturo stepped through the door of the cabin would've been indication enough.

Delight.

Despair.

Desire.

Discomfit.

It had been overwhelming how she'd been flooded with them all at once, but underneath it all was a deep-seeded terror she couldn't ignore. If her feelings weren't gone, even temporarily, that meant—according to what she'd interpreted—she was going to suffer under the weight of what she felt for Arturo on an even grander scale for the next week. So far, she didn't feel any different, which meant it hadn't kicked in yet. That was perhaps the scariest part of all.

What if she went from moping pathetically to foaming at the mouth for him in the middle of dinner? Would she suddenly be overcome with a desire so strong that she shot across the hot tub and kissed him in front of everyone?

The unknowing was stressing her out to totally that she'd begun grinding her teeth. That was all it took for her to toss the covers aside and shuffle into the closet where she'd left her suitcase. Bright Horizons paid her more than what she'd make at a public school, but that didn't mean she could be careless about the orthodontia she was still paying off.

In the closet, she tapped the button on the wall that lit the recessed lights along the wall and used that to find and pull on a pair of cropped leggings and a tank top. Once she was dressed, she left the closet, stepped into the slides she'd left at the side of her bed, and quietly exited the room. She took care to gently pull the door shut behind her so she didn't disturb her three roomates who were still asleep. The house was quiet as she walked through and she held her breath, hoping that meant she wouldn't run into anyone on her way outside.

Her prayers were answered. She made it through the massive home without seeing another soul, not releasing her breath until she was not only outside but past the firepit and among the trees. Breathing heavily, she did a series of continuous deep breaths as she followed the trail until she could no longer see the house behind her. Only then she turned to the nearest tree, leaned one folded arm against the rough bark, pressed her face into the crease of her elbow and let out the sob she'd been holding in.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

How the hell was she supposed to go the rest of her life calling a man whose dick she'd had in her mouth uncle anything? How was she supposed to do family functions from now on? How was she supposed—

Sucking in a breath, Twyla's thoughts stopped abruptly. Though her eyes had been closed and her cries audible, she knew that she was no longer alone. And she knew exactly who it was that stood behind her.

Shaking her head, she pushed off of the tree and slowly turned to face him. She'd left her watch in the room along with her phone so she was unaware of the time, but she knew it was too early for him to be out there with her. The sun had yet to enter the sky, but it was certainly on its way soon. Twyla took note of the fog surrounding them and she wondered how Arturo even found her with the combination of low visibility and darkness. Regardless, she saw him clearly and hated the way her belly jumped at the sight of him.

Arturo stood barely three feet away from her, clad only in a pair of low-slung joggers and Samoa adidas, his bare chest that glistened from either sweat or the morning dew heaving as if he'd ran the entire distance from the cabin to where Twyla was. His brown eyes roved her face, and she was acutely aware of the cooling tracks of tears on her cheeks. Embarrassment heated her face, but indignation steadied her footing. Again, she wondered how he managed to find her. She was supposed to be out there alone for at least an hour before one of her uncles got up to start making breakfast, yet here was the man she was mourning, staring her in her crusty, snotty face.

None of this was fair.

Brushing the back of her hand under one of her eyes, she shifted her weight and opened her mouth to ask what he was doing there.