Remember My Name

by Laurencia Hoffman

  Shane Coulter knew the truth, and it would die with him. Because if it didn’t, everyone he loved would be in danger.

  Maybe he had been too harsh with his mother. If she disappeared, Victor would be the first suspect. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid, so maybe she was safe from his father’s wrath for that very reason.

  At the very least, she deserved a heartfelt goodbye, not a rushed and angry one.

  Knocking softly on the door, he took a step back and warmed his hands in the pockets of his coat.

  The person who answered the door was someone he knew all too well and the last person he’d expected.

  “Peter?” The older man simply stared at him, not saying a word. “What the fuck? Why are you answering my mother’s door?”

  Pushing Peter aside, Lorraine offered an apologetic smile. “Shane, honey, we wanted to tell you…”

  His gaze narrowed, moving from one to the other. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Betrayal? Anger? Relief?

  Peter was a good man, and he knew that his mother would be treated well, but he had to wonder how long they’d been seeing one another.

  “So that’s why you started giving a shit about me.” He nodded slowly. “You were seeing my mom.”

  Peter sighed. “That’s not why.”

  “Oh, really? I’m supposed to believe that you suddenly caring about me and my life isn’t connected to you trying to score points with my mother?”

  His jaw was clenched and he pointed at Shane’s chest. “You don’t get to be angry about this. If memory serves, you’ve kept a number of secrets yourself.”

  “I bet you’ve told her all about them, haven’t you?” He scoffed. “I can never trust you, either of you, because whatever I say isn’t private.”

  Lorraine got between them. “Shane, sweetie, we both love you. We’re not talking behind your back, we’re just worried about you.”

  “Whatever.” Trotting down the porch steps, he walked back toward his car. “I’m done.”

  Peter followed him, blocking the driver’s side door. “You were just looking for an excuse to cut us out of your life.”

  “Yeah, and now you’ve given me one. Congratulations.” His gaze flicked toward his mother. “You’ve made this a hell of a lot easier on me.”

  “How convenient for you.” Peter leaned in closer, forcing Shane to look at him. “The only reason I’m taking it easy on you is because of her. Count yourself lucky. A parent will do anything to protect their child.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” He shoved Peter out of the way and opened the car door. “I hope you get your answers someday, but I can’t be the one to give them to you.”

  “So…you do know what happened to him.”

  Shane placed his hand on the door handle, ready to close it. “Haven’t you learned to take everything I say with a grain of salt? It’s all bullshit.”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” he sneered. “Before I regret letting you walk away.”

  Slamming the door, Shane wasted no time in starting the vehicle and pulling out of the driveway.

  It was all going according to plan. He had successfully pushed everyone away.

  That didn’t make the sting any less painful.

  His breathing was heavy, heart pounding against his ribcage. He didn’t have to do this. There was no need for confirmation. Deep down, he already knew. The minute his brother had gone missing, he had known who was responsible. This was just a formality.

  So why was he here? Maybe he did need that confirmation, the kind that Peter and Missus Talbot never had. He had to know for sure what had happened.

  There was no way in Hell that he was going to that man’s house. Shane was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. There was no telling if he’d ever come out of it again, and that would have been on him because he’d entered knowing – or suspecting – what had occurred there.

  Swallowing hard, he opened the door to the small cafe and walked inside. The place was empty except for what he assumed was the chef; he could hear the clanking of pans and sizzling of a fryer. He couldn’t help but wonder if his father had done this on purpose, renting out the place to ensure privacy. Though, perhaps that was his paranoia talking. Paranoia that his father had created. Paranoia that had been proven correct countless times.

  His heart was racing as he sat across from his abuser. Victor Gray. Captain Victor Gray, formally Detective Victor Gray. The usual smug, twisted smirk was on his father’s face.

  “It’s good to see you, son. How long has it been?”

  There was an involuntary pause because he was having difficulty getting words to come out of his mouth. “S-six years.”

  “You cast me aside the moment you turned eighteen.” He clicked his tongue. “That was hurtful.”

  “To your reputation, maybe.” He folded his arms. “You never gave a shit about me.”

  “How can you say that when I’ve put so much effort into making you the way you are?”

  Shane’s jaw clenched. Is that what this was – amusement? A game? To the twisted mind, it must have seemed perfectly natural, but Shane had never been able to wrap his mind around it. Torture for pleasure. Murder for fun. It made his stomach churn. “You wanted to leave your mark. Mission fucking accomplished.”

  “Not exactly. I wanted you to be so much more.” Victor shook his head slowly. “Don’t ever have children, Shane. They will only disappoint you.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but an elderly man emerged from the kitchen doors. It made him even more nervous because it wasn’t just his safety at stake.

  Victor ordered a full meal and Shane, hesitantly, ordered coffee.

  “Not hungry?” Victor asked with a slight smile.

  “Lost my appetite.” His gaze shifted to the man’s waist – his jacket was open just enough to show off his badge and gun. “They haven’t kicked you out yet?”

  “On the contrary.” Victor took a sip of black coffee before continuing. “I’m up for promotion. The people love me, Shane. They can’t understand why you don’t.”

  It was bullshit. All of it. Everything. There were numerous times when he’d asked for help, but no one had believed him; they’d known and hadn’t cared. Someone always knew. They just pretended not to. “Why can’t they see you for what you are?”

  “They are the blind leading the blind. And those who can see choose not to. People don’t like to accept the truth when it’s ugly.”

  His father was using that prideful tone. He was pleased with his accomplishments and enjoyed every bit of it. Shane had never been the only one who could see Victor for what he was, he was certain of that. But he was the only one who challenged him. And maybe that was the reason for all of this. It was possible that his father also enjoyed being challenged, this little game of cat and mouse. That may have been why Shane was still alive knowing what he knew.

  “Why do you have to include me in your sordid fucking life?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Why do you keep torturing me?”

  “Because you make it so easy.”

  Shane’s gaze wandered to the kitchen doors. “Should we be talking about this with the cook in the back?”

  “He’s hard of hearing. But don’t worry,” Victor lowered his voice, “I brought enough bullets for both of you.”

  Shane chewed the inside of his lip, contemplating his next move. Fight or flight. Sink or swim. What would be the smarter thing to do? His nostrils flared, giving away the anger he was trying to conceal. It wouldn’t do him any good. His father had too much strength, too much power. “I thought that if I remained silent, you’d leave me alone.”

  “Well, I did, didn’t I?”

  “So, why now?”

  “Because you’re my finale.” The cook served the food and once again disappeared behind the kitchen doors. Victor continued speaking as if it were the average conversation. “I’m not as young as I once was. There will come a time when I’m not physically able to do certain things no matter how much I want
to.”

  “Certain things? You mean kill people.” The twinkle in his father’s eye sent chills down his spine. He couldn’t stay there much longer; his heart couldn’t take it. The only thing left to do was ask the question. “How many others are there besides Jake Talbot?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that.” Victor tilted his head. “That would take away the thrill of the mystery.”

  Closing his eyes to mask his tears, he turned away, facing the window. “You once told me that you wished I could have been more like Ethan, that you would rather have him for a son than me. I thought you liked him.”

  “I did. I do.” He paused. “I always will.”

  “Then why?” he whispered, unable to muster anything above that volume.

  “Why what, Shane?” The corners of his lips were twitching. Clearly, he wanted Shane to say the words.

  “Why is he missing?”

  “You already know the answer to that. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t have asked.”

  “I kept my word,” Shane said breathlessly. “I never told anyone.”

  Victor’s gaze wandered over his son before he returned his attention to his meal. “I believe you.”

  Thank God for that – because he was lying. Not that telling people had accomplished anything.

  He shook his head slowly, brow furrowed. “Then why did you take my brother?”

  “You wouldn’t see me, Shane.” His father’s tone was flippant as if the young man shouldn’t have expected anything less. “How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

  Two people were dead because of him. Shane had to wonder if there was anyone else connected to him that had gone missing; old teachers, past friends, distant relatives he’d never met, acquaintances who had been unlucky enough to say hello to him.

  His father could take anyone at any time, for any reason or no reason at all. And it was because he enjoyed it. That, and he liked watching Shane squirm.

  Despite the hopelessness and despair he felt, he wouldn’t allow Victor to see any of it.

  “Fuck you.”

  He left the restaurant, got into his car, and drove for as long as he could stand it. Then, when he was certain that he hadn’t been followed, Shane parked on the side of the road. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

  For years, he had thought his silence had bought him time and protection. After all, doing the opposite had been pointless. When people said things that sounded as though it could only be a work of fiction, most assumed that it was. And those who didn’t could end up dead.

  Yet, Jake hadn’t known a thing. Neither had Ethan. So, had his silence really protected them? Had it all been worth it?

  There could be no victory in this, no happy ending. Even if his father finally got what he deserved, it wouldn’t replace what Shane had lost or what he stood to lose.

  His hands fell from the wheel as he brought them to his face and cried all the tears he refused to let his father see. The hole inside him was so vast that it felt as though his chest had caved in. His breaths sounded more like gasps, lungs trying to swoop in the air as he struggled to satisfy them.

  His body was shaking so violently that he had to climb into the back seat and curl up to contain it. With his eyes closed and sobs racking his slender frame, Shane wondered how he was going to survive with this incurable devastation.

  Why couldn’t they stop calling? Hadn’t he done enough to render himself irredeemable? Apparently not. If they needed him to add more fuel to the fire, he could do that.

  With one hand rubbing his chest, he answered his phone with the other.

  “Did I not make myself clear?”

  There was a long pause. And it took everything in him not to beg Callan to say something. Shane missed hearing his voice. His other half would never know it, but Callan was the air he breathed. Without him, Shane would wither and die. But it was a price he was willing to pay. Cal wasn’t safe with him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?”

  A sigh of relief, though he hoped it came across as exasperation. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “I’m a journalist, Shane.” His voice was shaky. “You know that I’ve spoken to your family, and…and Pete.”

  Fuck. He should have known this was coming. “So what?”

  “You keep saying that everything is your fault.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know why people never believe me.”

  “I’m starting to. I’m trying to understand.”

  “Understand what, Cal?” Was this part going according to plan too? Had he set enough clues, planted enough seeds? “Go on. Just say what you’re thinking.”

  “You said that you’re the reason Teddy’s missing a part of his ear.”

  It was okay that Callan believed that because he and Teddy knew the truth. The poor dog was just another victim of his father.

  “Yep,” he lied.

  “And you knew Jake Talbot. Peter said you made some comments to him about the boy’s disappearance.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now Ethan is missing and…you’re taking responsibility for that too.”

  “And?”

  Callan took a deep breath. “Did you hurt them? Are you the reason they’re missing?”

  Bingo. That was exactly what Shane needed him to think. He may have been close, but as long as Cal wasn’t directly on Victor’s trail, he might be safe. “I don’t think we should be talking about this.”

  There was a very long pause. “Talk to me, Shane. Please. If you’re sick, we can get you help. You might have some alternate personality who’s making you do these things. It’s not your fault, you can’t help it. These things happen sometimes when a person has suffered severe trauma. And, Shane, you’ve been through so much. Let me help you.”

  An alternate personality, huh? That was original. It didn’t matter what Cal believed as long as he believed that Shane was responsible for all of it. “Write your story, Cal. Do whatever you want to do. Just don’t contact me again.”

  “Wait, Sha-”

  He hung up the phone and slammed it down. It would all be worth it in the end. That was how he lived with the agony. The pain in his chest might grow, and his heart might beat right out of his chest, but at least his loved ones would be safe. For now.

  Looking over at Teddy, who was peering at him quizzically, he nodded slowly. “Cal thinks I cut your ear off. I let him believe that. Do you remember when my dad did that to you?”

  Teddy walked over to him as if Shane was offering a treat.

  “Yeah, I bet you do. So do I.” Pursing his lips, he scratched behind the dog’s ears. “That was when I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

  If he was to be Victor’s finale, he had to assume that people were going to get hurt somewhere between here and the finish line. He didn’t know how, but he had to find some way to end it.

  If Victor was intent on making him suffer, Shane could see no other alternative than taking matters into his own hands.

  Victor might not harm the people he loved if Shane himself was no longer there to torture.

  As if Teddy had figured out his thought process, he whined and pawed Shane’s lap.

  “Sorry, boy. It might be the only way.” He delivered a kiss to the dog’s head. “But I won’t make my decision until you’re gone. I promised I wouldn’t abandon you again.”

  Tomorrow, he could create a mental plan for what was to come. The day after, he could ensure its possibility.

  Tonight, he was going to sit with his dog and mull over his options. There weren’t many at his disposal. He only saw one way out of this, but there was no guarantee that his untimely death would stop the murders. And if he was dead, there was no way of knowing whether or not that plan had been a success.

  What if it had the opposite effect and Victor was left unsatisfied?

  One way or another, this was all going to end in his demise
. The only thing up for debate was whether or not others died with him, for him, or because of him.

  “We’re the only two living creatures on earth who know the truth.” Shane wrapped his arms around Teddy. “That means we have to decide what to do with that knowledge. One way or another, people are going to die, Teddy. I just hope it’s me. And Victor.”

  Lowering his arms as well as his face, he closed his eyes. “Or even just me…if it spares the others.”

  About the Author

  Laurencia Hoffman specializes in various sub-genres of romance. Her stories often focus on the darker side of fiction, but love and survival remain the central themes throughout her work.

  When she's not writing, she also enjoys playing video games with her family, listening to music, satisfying her sweet tooth, and watching films.

  Also by Laurencia Hoffman

  Her other works include:

  No Love Lost

  To Love an Outlaw

  A Wish for Remembrance

  Going Home

  Life and Death