Mended: A Salvation Society Novel
Page 18
“Andre VanHorn, Garrett Fitzpatrick and Emeline Richards grew up together. VanHorn and Richards started dating in high school. VanHorn became a navy SEAL and went on numerous missions while Richards studied psychology in college and Fitzpatrick trained to become a NASCAR driver. VanHorn came back years later to Richards being pregnant. She kept the baby, tried to pass it off as VanHorn’s—going as far as to put his name on the birth certificate—but the kid looked more and more like Fitzpatrick and the secret couldn’t be hidden anymore. Fitzpatrick didn’t deny he was the father even if Richards begged him to. Wanting to have a family, he asked for his paternity rights back to claim the child as his. He stupidly believed his friends when they said they did the paperwork when in fact they never did therefore no adoption papers could be found by Spencer. Despite it all, VanHorn decided to stay with Richards and married her. She asked him to stop the missions, blaming his time away for her infidelities, and so he did. Becoming a CIA analyst and lived happily ever after… until VanHorn came back from a trip and Fitzpatrick was dead. I checked the dates, and there is no doubt he was out of the country. Now that’s when it becomes juicy. All these years, Richards was also in an adulterous relationship with Fitzpatrick’s coach who was married to her sister. Side note, the sister vanished at some point and no one knows where she has been. I don’t have proof of what comes next, but it seems VanHorn understood what happened, covered it up and took his family far away from Dereck Sheppard. But nothing lasts forever and Oliver coming here kind of disturbed the web of lies everyone lived in. Add to that Miss Fitzpatrick-VanHorn calling Sheppard to coach her and there was a nuclear bomb ready to explode.”
So that’s what it feels like to have your car roll a couple of times. The whole table looks at me, letting me take it all in while I compartmentalize all that Leo shared.
“Wait a second, are you saying Andre is really who he says he is and my mother is the devil incarnate?”
“Kind of,” Leo says, apologies in her eyes. As if she was responsible for my mother’s actions.
“And that she killed my dad with the help of Dereck?”
I try not to crumble but everything juggles in my head. Coldness hits me and I shudder under the pressure of their stare. What the fuck? “But you helped them hide me for Andre’s campaign!” I point at Crawford who dismisses me with an annoyed glare.
“I protected you Miss Fitzpatrick. Mr. VanHorn took me aside and told me it was crucial you didn’t appear, for Sheppard not to find you. He hired me as a lawyer for my confidentiality without telling me the extent of the troubles your mother had caused. I’m not an expert in criminal law but my father being a judge, I understand that the less I know, the better I can live my life. Now, did I let it rest? No. I’m not the kind to leave crime unpunished, which is why I asked Leo here to find all the details she could about your family. You can thank my OCD tendencies.”
“Tessa,” Mark steals my attention once Crawford is done with his long declaration, “what we need now is for you to tell us if your parents have a second house in the state or around. Because I can help and get a team ready for a rescue op but if we don’t know where Oliver is, we can’t do shit. We can try to spy on your mother and see if she leads us to him but I doubt she would take the risk to be followed.”
“We… We have a house past Charlottesville but we barely go there anymore.”
“The perfect getaway,” Mark says, already getting his phone out of his pocket.
“Leo, you’re okay not working alone for once?” Crawford asks.
“As if it’s my first time working with that band of misfits. Right Twilight?”
Mark nods, his finger up in the air, calling God knows who.
“Does everybody know everyone here?” I ask Leo a little surprised.
“In our world, we do know about one another. I’m a friend of his wife and that asshole used to fuck my brother,” she says jerking her chin toward Mark and then Crawford. “You’ll see once we get your guy back, it’s quite a small world after all.”
“He’s not my guy,” I say like a child telling another she isn’t in love.
“Avoidance is the best medicine for certain things, but for others, it’s a poison that will kill everything in you.”
She stands and leaves the room followed by Mark, leaving me behind with Dickhead in chief. As he’s ignoring me, his face buried in his phone, I stand and make my way out. Once at the door, I turn around to thank him but he sends me a don’t you dare stare. I’m ready to walk away and hope to never see him again, when he finally speaks, a grin on his face.
“Andre really loves you as a daughter and he really did everything he could to protect you over the years. At least that’s what he told my father. Maybe now, you can open your eyes to your surroundings and remove your head from your ass. A dead father and a dead fiancé don’t seem so troublesome when you discover your mother is a psycho. Welcome to the club. It’s a living hell Miss Fitzpatrick, but there is nothing we can do.”
Mentally flipping him the bird, I leave the room and run toward the elevator, confused, heartbroken and wholly alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
OLIVER
I hear the door and the heavy footsteps of my warden coming down the stairs. Each stride crushes my hopes to get out of here alive.
If all this had happened a few months ago, I would have let myself die.
I wouldn’t have tried to fight my way out of it. I wouldn’t have battled my demons pushing me toward the door of death. I wouldn’t have listened to Elaine telling me to fight, to let her go.
None of that would have happened before.
Before Aito.
Before Tessa.
I smile, thinking of her.
I’m not dead.
I might barely be alive, but I’m not dead, not yet.
Count on me to finally want to live when my life is in jeopardy.
For years, I was physically alive but lifeless inside, and the moment I found the strength to live again, to project a future, to be at peace with my past, I get myself killed—or almost killed.
That’s the thing with waiting on someone to decide on your fate.
You have time to overthink.
I’ve been in and out of consciousness floating between Elaine and Tessa, and slowly realizing that what Tessa and I have, this connection, this understanding, this yearning, is more than an itch, more than raw passion, more than love.
It’s gratitude.
I’m grateful for having her in my life, for what we share and our story.
It reminds me of a few words Sue used to tell Elaine, about what was greater than love.
Honor, trust, allowance, vulnerability, and gratitude.
I didn’t get it.
I never did.
I always thought that nothing was more significant than loving someone, to do whatever it takes for them to be happy. And if they loved you, they should do the same. Do everything to get a smile on their face.
But maybe this isn’t love? It’s a version of what has been instilled in us through romance movies and love stories. How could you ask the person you love to be something they aren’t? How can you ask them to stop overthinking or jump off a plane?
This can’t be what love is.
This can’t be what makes you go to war and lose your mind.
Truly honoring who your partner is, trusting them, not judging who they want to be, and letting go of all the barriers we like to put up to protect ourselves with, that’s when you can reach the level of love that will bless your life like a ray of sunshine on a cold winter’s day. And only then you’ll be grateful to have found the one who can make you smile while you freeze your balls off in the storm of life.
I thought I loved Elaine like she deserved, but now I know that I loved her in a Hollywood kind of way, with fake smiles and conditions.
I think Elaine understood what her mother was saying and applied it daily. She never asked me to change who I was and what I liked f
or her own sake. She accepted me with my moods, my passions, my craziness, my needs and cherished what we had.
I want to love Tessa like Elaine loved me.
I want to accept my blue-haired girl the way she is, even if it means working on myself a little more.
I should stop being so cautious with life. The situation I am in right now is proof that even without taking risks, tomorrow might never come.
But I’ve been drugged for the last few days, so I’m certainly just full of shit and am delirious.
I also received a good beating. Mrs. VanHorn’s nephew gave me water and some bread and talked with his fists a lot.
Maybe when she told him to kill me, she implied to let me rot? Death eaten by rats… I chuckle. Slightly better than being eaten by a bear.
“Spencer, be quiet!” He says in between his teeth, “we have only a few minutes to get you out of here.”
By now I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. Why would the guy who made my face as swollen as a pufferfish try to save me? Or maybe he’s not saving me but only moving me so he can end me. I try to protest, but I can’t speak.
He comes behind me and unties my wrists. I don’t have enough strength to swipe at him. I try to, but nothing much happens.
“Don’t fucking try to hurt me. If I untie your feet, you can’t kick me in the face, or you’ll have us both killed. Understand?”
Still not sure what I’m doing, I nod.
I can barely walk, but his massive hands support me. Slowly, in silence, he drags me up the stairs.
“Not a word,” he whispers. Even if I wanted to, it seems I’m unable to form any kind of sound.
At the top is a woman waiting for us. She gives me a tight smile before checking her surroundings.
“Victim is free. Targets are upstairs. Move!” He whispers to the woman who starts covering for us while I give all I have to walk toward the door.
We’re almost there when a gun fires behind me.
We stumble, and I try to move out of the way, but I’m way too out of it to even attempt.
There is not a hint of survival instinct left inside of me.
I’m paralyzed by pain and crushed under the weight of the guy who was helping me out. His head is on my chest, his eyes filled with apologies. It seems like an eternity, but it lasts until a second before his eyelids fall, and what is supposed to be his last breath let go.
“Patrick!” I can hear the voice of Dereck but can’t see him. It’s filled with anger and pain. “Why would you betray me?” His question stays unanswered as several gunshots cut through the air.
I feel myself slowly falling in a blackout again. I don’t fight it. There is not one drop of adrenaline left in me anymore. Only tiredness. Only pain. And maybe a sparkle of hope I can make it out alive.
A hand grabs me by the collar and pulls me from under the unanimated body of Dereck’s son.
He died saving my life, and I couldn’t thank him.
The last thing I see is the blood my hands leave on the white tiles of the VanHorn mansion. And then darkness takes over.
And I have no clue what happens next.
“Wake up, Le Pew.” I smile, hearing the voice of Mark, but it hurts my busted lips.
“Fuck you,” I say, the words hurting my throat. He hands me a glass of water, and I swallow a few sips. “You know I hate that call name.”
“What’s the story behind it?” Na… I try to smile even more.
“Give me my son,” I tell her, not answering the secret Mark promised he would never share to civilians. She positions him in my arms, and like an addict jonesing for his fix, I bring my nose to the top of his head and breathe him in.
Everything in my body hurts, and I’ve had a migraine since I woke up in the hospital, but smelling him, touching him, holding him is better than any medication.
Nevertheless, my heart still bleeds from everything that happened, and I worry for only one person.
“Where is Tessa?” I ask, pretending I don’t see the smirk on Mark’s face and the amusement on Naomi’s eyes.
“It seems knowing her mother is a criminal wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. She’s dealing with the aftermath of everything that happened. She didn’t even know she had a cousin. And knowing her coach was part of all of it… She’s a little fucked up right now. But don’t worry, nothing Quinn can’t handle.” Mark says, sitting at the bottom of my bed.
I enjoy the reunion with my son.
“The nanny—” I want to warn Naomi.
“Taken care of. We had been aware before we went in to get you, and Crawford fired her with a little threat of suing her.” Mark explains.
“Good,” I kiss Aito. “Why did Patrick help me? He seemed very into killing me or at least beating the shit out of me when I first met him?”
“Let’s say we all did some crazy shit for love around here. Like leaping into finding out the details about the death of a NASCAR driver or not sharing suspicions with the team you work with because you want to tell the woman you’re banging beforehand.” I shrug still not understanding what he means.
“He was in love with Leo,” Naomi adds for me to connect the dots. I frown as I don’t know any Leo before snuggling Aito against me and showering him with kisses.
“Are you ready to tell us what happened?” Mark asks. Knowing it’s time to share everything I know and to listen to Mark’s explanation, I give my son back to Naomi. She kisses the top of my head and gives me a tight smile.
“I’m glad you’re still with us, Ol. Lars would have never survived losing you.” Naomi might not be the warmest person, but I know her well enough to understand what she’s saying: she loves me and would have, indeed, been devastated by my death.
Accepting people for who they are. That’s the real meaning of love.
“I’ll see you later, and come by with this boyfriend of yours. You know I love him too.” She rolls her eyes humorously and says a polite goodbye to Mark before leaving the room. Once at the door though, she turns around and sends me a last glance.
“We’ll stay as long as you need us here,” she adds.
And for the first time since I’ve started to be close to Naomi, I don’t need her to be my security blanket. I don’t feel sad at the idea of her leaving. I don’t feel afraid at the thought of something happening to her. She might recognize the peace I feel because she gives me the brightest smile I have ever seen her give someone and nods. “Welcome back,” she says before closing the door behind her.
“What happened in that basement for you to look as fucked up as you do but more serene than ever?”
“Elaine asked me to move on.” I shrug. Mark looks at me a little suspiciously but accepts my somewhat answer. Wanting to share with him more than I did after Elaine died, I go on.
“And I might have realized I have feelings for a blue-haired girl.”
“Nothing like being tied up to a chair when your life is in jeopardy to open your eyes,” he laughs.
“True. But it doesn’t mean we’ll live happily ever after. My life, my son, and my bar are in New York. I can’t change that.”
“But you can have a little faith in the woman Tessa is. She likes to take risks, and the risk of love is the best one there is.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
TESSA
There is nothing more unsettling than learning your life is a fiddle.
If losing King was the apogee of my sorrow, learning my mother killed my father, has me on the top of a fucked up mountain. All of a sudden, grieving my late fiancé isn’t my main priority anymore. And I hate my mother for that.
“What do you feel?” Dr. Saman asks. As soon as Leo dumped all this information on me, I called Quinn and asked him for a ride to the good doctor. But all the begging I did didn’t grant me access to her office. I stayed with Quinn and Ashton and they took care of me like royalty, filling my glass of vodka until I fell asleep.
Twenty four hours later, after learning that Dereck’s son was in fact my
cousin and that he was no more, that Dereck was my uncle, that my mother was even more evil than was explained to me and that she had kidnapped Oliver, I’m finally facing Dr. Saman and trying to put myself all together.
“Betrayed,” I tell her as I go through the myriad of emotions in my heart.
“Understandable,” she answers. “But at least you feel something. The woman who came in through those doors the first time I met you would have reacted very differently.”
True. I would have done what I was taught to do facing grief or any other emotions, I would have fled, buried any feelings deep inside of me, smile, lie, pretend and try to play my life against the odds.
But things have changed.
I have changed.
“As a mother myself, I understand acting beyond reason for your child. We already spoke about the King’s mother reacting the way she did with you once her son had passed. Losing a child is a mother’s or any parent’s greatest fear, and it can push you to do things you never thought possible.”
There is a pinch of melancholy in her voice.
I pretend not to hear.
I glance at the picture of the woman one more time. She might have been my age or maybe’s Oliver. Maybe it’s her daughter?
“The thing is, I’m not sure my mother did this to protect me or rather to save her lifestyle, and the supposed love of her life. Even then, who really knows. All we have are the lies she told Andre. My father is dead. Dereck is dead. The cousin and aunt I didn’t even know I had are dead. No one can tell what my mother was thinking but her. And you can be certain she won’t go down without a fight.”
“What about your sister? You told me before they were close.”
“They are one and the same.”
“So maybe she could help you understand what your mother is or was thinking?”
“Maybe,” I tell Dr. Saman, but I doubt my sister will ever want to discuss it.
In her world, my mother doesn’t exist anymore. Mother Dearest is a disgrace that could put her position in the society at risk. She needs to distance herself from it all, and I won’t receive a call or be welcome in her mansion.