by E. M. Moore
“You can call me as many names as you want,” I tell him, conjuring up a smile through all the hurt. What he thinks of me means nothing. I know who’s most important.
He tilts his head. “I have to say, I was surprised when you showed up at Stone’s wedding. Even more surprised when you shot that bastard. Can’t say I hadn’t thought of that myself over the years.”
“You’d rather make deals with devils instead?”
He unbuttons his cuffs and leans back in the chair. It protests under his weight, and he rolls his eyes as if the very thing itself aggravates him. “I make deals with anyone if I think it’s worthwhile. Kind of like your friend Cole.”
I can’t argue with that. I think it’s fairly accurate, but to me, there’s a vast difference between Lance Jacobs and Cole. For one, the Dragons look at Cole with respect, and I don’t think that’s the case with Lance at all. I haven’t been to any of his business meetings, but if his own son talks poorly of him, I think that explains it all. I don’t bite on his bringing up Cole, though I’m dying to know where he is and if he knows what’s happened. I half expect him to come running into the house with the Dragons at his side and dragging me away from here.
“Where’s Stone?” I ask instead. He has to be worried about his son. There was that incident with Stone getting shot but that can’t have been at the request of Lance. He wouldn’t. At least, I have to hope he wouldn’t.
“They said you were asking about him. All of them, actually.” He narrows his gaze. “Am I to understand that you’re in a relationship with all of them?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Don’t you care about my son’s reputation at all? He won’t be allowed back into the inner circle if he’s having relations with men, too.”
I snap my mouth shut. “That’s what you’re worried about? You think Stone is gay?”
My words alleviate his concerns. The deep creases in his forehead loosen, and I want so badly to tell him to go fuck himself. It’s not any of his business what Stone does, but I’m afraid by telling him the truth that I might hinder my chances of finding out anything. He takes a linen cloth out of his pocket and wipes his strained face. “I have to give my son credit. I didn’t think he’d go after me like he did. Not just through business, I taught him that, but the other part.”
“You mean him trying to take back what’s rightfully mine?”
His toothy grin tells me I walked right into what he wanted to talk about in the first place. Of course he wants to know about the ring and the gold nugget he found in the small canister. “I’m shocked that old Clark had it in him. He had a piece of the treasure this whole time and never let it out.” He shakes his head almost chastisingly so. “He could’ve made a lot of money on those pieces. He definitely could’ve moved you both into a better situation.”
“My dad did what his family wanted him to do. Show loyalty. Something you know nothing about.”
The sharp lines of his cheekbones pull back to reveal a scowl. “You think I don’t know about loyalty? That would be my son you’re talking about.”
“Then he learned it from you. You know he got shot, don’t you? That the men you hired didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger aimed at him.”
He snaps his jaw shut. “I was told it didn’t hit him.”
“And I’m sure they’re super trustworthy that you should believe everything they say. They’re trained killers.”
“They were trained by our government. I’m just employing them for our needs. If the government can do it, why can’t I?”
“Because this isn’t fucking war!” I snap.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You declared war on my family as soon as you made it your mission to find the treasure before me.”
I shake my head because his logic doesn’t make sense. “The Wilders were here way before you. You should’ve found your own riches to hunt down. But I guess that would’ve involved you actually looking for it yourself, which we know is never going to happen.”
Lance smirks and crosses his legs. “I’ll never know why lowly people take pride in doing things themselves. I’ll get the work done, and I won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Then what are you doing here now? Maybe we could’ve had this discussion over the phone.”
He smiles at me again, and it’s far more threatening than I’ve seen before. “Certain circumstances have made me take more of an active role. The team I hired are here to do one thing. I would usually ask Stone to do it, but since you took him away from me, I had to pivot.”
Pivot? He throws professional words around like we aren’t talking about a father-son relationship. If anything, Stone is lucky he survived with all of this...ridiculousness sitting across from me. The fact that he fared as well as he did proves what kind of person he is. “Is Stone okay?” I’m burning to ask about Wyatt and Lucas, too, but I don’t want him to bring up our relationship again.
“I can answer your questions, Dakota, but I have a few of my own first. You know how this works, right? You’re here. You’re not in the safety of your gang friend and my son and his friends, anymore. You’re all alone, with me. I have the upper hand.”
I cross my arms. His words sit like a heavy brick in my stomach. He’s completely right. I’m at his mercy. I’m tired, hungry, and dirty; I need something to eat and drink soon before I pass out; I need a shower; I need some fucking pain reliever; and—most of all—I need to know what happened to Wyatt, Stone, and Lucas. So I need to play his game for at least a little while.
I swallow. “I think my brain would work better if I had something to eat and drink.”
He narrows his eyes. “I don’t know what kind of garbage they have in the house, but you’re welcome to sift through the cupboards.” He sneers at his surroundings and what I’ve believed up until now is clearly true. This isn’t Lance’s house.
I can’t help the widening of my eyes at his offer. I hesitate, and he snaps, “Go look!”
I stand from the creaking chair, and Lance flinches as if a shot went off. He immediately covers it by appearing bored as I drag my ass into the kitchen. The first cupboard I open has a few glasses in it, so I turn the faucet on and fill the cup, drinking it greedily before filling it up again. I move to another cupboard and find crackers. I open the box and dump out a couple of sleeves and snag one.
“Sometime today, Dakota. I’m a very busy man.”
If I had a knife, I’d throw it at his fucking head. Sucking in a breath, I peek behind me and notice he’s scrolling through text on his phone. I turn back around and pull open the closest drawer. There’s nothing in it. I keep searching until I hit the drawer by the sink. A set of knives rest in there, and I don’t know how sharp they are, but they’ll do. I take one out and slip it into my pocket. The stiffness of the camo pants hides the outline and when Lance huffs again at my taking too long, I grab the glass of water and the sleeve of crackers and return to my seat.
I give him a smile when I sit. He waits while I open the plastic and chew a few crackers, taking my time, less to annoy him and more to savor the fact that I’m finally eating. This isn’t a meal like Wyatt makes, but I’ll take anything to deaden the hunger pains twisting my insides.
“All set?” Lance inquires.
I hold up a finger and talk with my mouth full. “Almost.”
He glowers at me, and I’m surprised at how easy it is to get under Lance’s skin. He’s so used to people jumping at everything he demands. Plus, bad manners seem to get under his skin more than most. He was probably more mortified when I hijacked Stone’s wedding than he was when I shot his business partner. “And how are dear Rissa and her mother doing?”
“Better off, if you ask me,” he says, picking at a crease in his pants. “They gained a lot of money when you killed the head of the family.”
“Money isn’t everything.”
“Says the girl who searches for treasure.”
It’s not worth my time to argue t
he point with him. The treasure has always been about money for him and nothing more. That’s not what it meant to me and my family. Instead of explaining it to him, I shrug.
Lance lifts a brow at me, and when he finally thinks I’m ready to answer his questions, he starts, “What did you find out about the ring?”
“You don’t know?” I ask. “You had the jeweler attacked.”
He breathes out heavily as if I’m a child that needs to learn a few hard lessons. “I already told you the team I hired are here for one purpose only. They’re not doing research or any searching. You took my researcher.”
Of course he would refer to his son as a researcher, a mere partner in helping him find the treasure instead of what he really is. “Then why not send them after the jeweler again?”
“Because their job is to trail you,” he informs me, voice pitching higher.
“Apparently not just trail me,” I counter.
“The ring, Dakota!”
“It’s Spanish,” I tell him. There’s no reason to lie; he could easily find the information out on his own if he wasn’t so preoccupied with us. “You know you can hire another researcher?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. Stone will return home soon.”
I laugh, the sound bursting from my lips, sending pieces of cracker everywhere.
He scowls at me in disgust. It’s not the face that makes me pull myself together, it’s the fact that he believes Stone will go back to him. He doesn’t think he’s pushed it too far already. That’s just...crazy.
“You kept his mom hostage.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything to her,” he retorts. “I was teaching her a lesson since she didn’t fulfill her end of our bargain.”
“Maybe she liked my father better than you?”
Lance stands, hands flexing at his sides. He marches toward me and hovers until I lift my head back to stare into his depthless eyes. He winds his hand back and slaps me across the face. I choke, spluttering to regain my breath with crumbs of food inhibiting every intake of air. My cheek blooms with fire, but I level a glare at him when he returns to his chair like nothing happened.
Stone’s mother used my father to get away, and I see why in front of me. He’s careless and heartless, too full of his own self-worth to be concerned with anyone else’s. He tugs his suit coat together, buttoning it up to appear more professional. Again, he crosses his legs, sliding his joined hands over his knee.
He is a monster in a business suit.
“About the ring, Dakota....”
I place another cracker in my mouth, chewing it painstakingly slow. I eye him up and down before swallowing. Then, I tell him the story of the ring—at least what we were able to unearth. I tell him about the Queen and the adventure the treasure took from Spain toward Mexico and why it got stuck in the Superstitions. “That’s all I know,” I finish.
“Did you find out how much it was worth?”
My stomach tangles into knots. If Lance sells my ring, there’s no chance of us getting it back. It would be lost forever. “You took out our jeweler, remember?” He glares at me, so I think fast. “Plus, we weren’t sure if we needed it to find the treasure’s location. It might point to something. There had to have been a reason why my family kept it.”
I watch as the understanding glints in his eyes, and I close my own when I think that it might be safe for a little while. Sure, we’ll still have to steal it back from Lance, but at least it won’t be lost in a black market dealing. That’s the only way to get rid of something like that; the moment he mentions it’s part of the treasure officially, the government will want to get involved.
“Now tell me about the gold nugget.”
His demand reminds me again just how much I lost when he had his men infiltrate Jacobs Manor. He paid our security team for the footage. He gave us the perfect distraction, and we led him right to the most precious thing we had. It kills me to talk to him about this, and I know my father is definitely rolling over in his grave. A Jacobs now has the one thing that the Wilders always had above them.
At least they don’t have the map. I can breathe easy about that.
I lick my lips, setting the crackers aside for a moment and drinking the salty taste out of my mouth. “The nugget is separate from the treasure,” I tell him. “It was part of my family’s gold vein from the same era. We held onto it to compare the gold we find to the gold in the cave, to make sure we’re in the right area when the time comes.”
“Fucking Clark Wilder,” Jacobs tsks. He almost seems impressed. Enraged, sure, but impressed all the same. I doubt he ever believed my father was a worthy adversary, but none of that matters anymore anyway. “Did you get the gold tested?”
I shake my head. “We didn’t have anything to compare it to yet.”
“And all that was buried in the back of your family’s land this whole time?”
“All that,” I disclose, confirming his suspicions while keeping secrets of my own. I can’t let him think that there’s anything else, though he’d be a fool if he wasn’t suspicious. If his team has been following us, they might know about the lantern, even though we took every possible precaution to keep our dealings hidden.
This time around, our precious find is sitting in a safety deposit box in a bank. We weren’t going to take any chances of that getting out, too, even though that’s of more historical value than intrinsic. Still, it means something to me. It means that my family isn’t a bunch of crackpots. They actually had a vision to help us find the treasure all along. The squares and x’s are a part of that, too. I just need my team back to figure it out.
“Now, tell me about Stone, Wyatt, and Lucas. Are they okay?”
Lance chuckles darkly. The deep noise guttural and sinister. “I’m not done yet, Dakota. I have more questions.”
The way he glares at me makes me queasy. “You said you’d tell me if I answered your questions. I answered two, and you haven’t answered one of mine. Are. They. Okay?”
“Still not in a position to demand answers, little girl. Your family never was. Or...” he offers, “I guess they were, but they never did know how to use things to their advantage. When my team found the canister and brought it back to me, we found the ring and the gold nugget, but I’d be surprised if there wasn’t more.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly thick and the beating in my head returning with a vengeance. “More than an actual piece of the treasure? Why would you think that?”
“Tell me what else you have.”
“There’s nothing,” I growl.
He presses his lips together, the humor all but gone. “Nothing?”
“Nothing,” I reaffirm, my hands clenching to fists at my side. My pinky brushes against the knife I stole. It’s probably dull, but at least it’s something if I need to defend myself.
“You wouldn’t be trying to hide anything from me, would you?”
I scoff, trying my best at acting. Lucas says I wear everything on my sleeve, but I pour every ounce of believing into that one action. “What more could you think we had, Lance? Don’t you think if we had anything more that we would have found the treasure a long time ago?”
Lance leans against his chair, making it creak, but this time, it doesn’t break his concentration. He’s too fixated on me. “I would’ve believed that, but you see, I found something else in that canister. Something you might have overlooked. It was stuck in the lid. A little folded piece of paper.” Lance reaches into his pocket and takes out a square of lined notepad that he unfolds in slow motion until I’m almost coming out of my seat. I don’t recognize it at all.
He clears his throat, placing one hand on his sternum as if he’s about to give a speech. “Dear Dakota….”
The earth tilts. I grip my thighs, putting every ounce of new energy I have into not falling over.
Lance peers over the piece of paper at me, as if to make sure I’m still paying attention, but I don’t think it’s that at all. I think he wants to
witness the part where I pass out. To finally see a Wilder where they belong: on the floor and hyperventilating.
He smiles, turning the note around to show me the stilted writing on the other side. “I can see that you don’t know what this is, but you’re probably guessing correctly at this moment. It’s a letter from your dad. Your long lost, missing father.”
The sides of my vision turn dark, and all I see is that lined notepad page. I can envision him hunched over his messy desk, writing something to me. But, my brain also rejects the idea. Wyatt, Stone, Lucas, and I opened that canister, and we didn’t see a thing.
“Shall I read it to you?”
My brain buzzes with retorts, but I swallow them down. I’m caught between wanting to hear it and outright dismissing it as a fraud right here, right now. But with the way Lance is acting, he certainly thinks he knows something I don’t. “I reckon I don’t have a choice, do I?” I tell him, falling back into a pattern of speech my father used.
“No, you don’t. You seem to need a reminder about what else was in that canister. But I don’t need to give it to you, your father’s going to. Right here in his own words, Dakota.”
My mind whirs. “What does it say?”
My father wouldn’t have known he had to keep anything a secret if he left a note for me. We never intended on that rugged safe of ours to ever make it into anyone else’s hands. It was only a tin can with a screw top. It’s nothing like the safes they have nowadays with locks and passwords and codes. We thought the land would hide it. After all, the same kind of land had been hiding my family’s legacy all along.
But we were wrong.
I’m to blame for this. For all of this.
I can only cringe as Lance begins to read from my father’s note from the grave.
26
Dear Dakota,
If everything happens as I see it happening, you’ll be the sole keeper of this safe. I knew the things I did in my past would come back to haunt me at some point. I worried I would never find the treasure, but what I feared more was the day you found out what I did to you.