Coming for You

by J. A. Huss

  Did James betray me or not?

  Did he leave me here to fend for myself? Or will he come back like he promised?

  That’s the only thing I can hold on to at the moment. He told me that before he left so I’d remember it.

  He’s coming for me.

  I just need to be patient.

  But I don’t even know how long I was out. From the rumbling in my stomach and the need to pee, it must’ve been a long time.

  The phone is resting on the bunk where I left it. I want to text him or call him so badly.

  Just be patient, Harper. See what your father is up to. Because something is off here. Something is off and I need to know what that is before I make any decisions.

  I take a deep breath and close the locker door. OK, it’s just dinner. It’s my father, for Pete’s sake. I’ve had dinner with my father for as long as I can remember.

  In fact, this is all starting to feel very familiar.

  Almost comfortable.

  Like I didn’t kill thirteen people with poison a year ago, then steal the boat’s tender and take a plane to LA to start a new life.

  It feels… like that never happened.

  It feels… like I’ve been forgiven.

  Or maybe… it feels like a mission accomplished and a well-deserved homecoming.

  I walk calmly down the hall and climb the ladder that will take me up to the main level, then turn the corner and climb again until I can feel the cool sea breeze of a summer night.

  Yes. This is my home. The sea triggers all those familiar feelings of safety and comfort.

  I can hear my father talking to the staff in the above-deck dining room and he sounds relaxed and at ease. But why shouldn’t he be? He’s the one in total control here. I glance out at the Orange County city lights. The harbor is a busy place, so there is a lot to look at. I wish I was out there. As much as I do like this ship, I didn’t come here of my own free will. So regardless of what my father says, I am a prisoner.

  The above-deck dining area is really built for partying. In fact, that’s what it’s called on the ship map hanging in the casual dining area a deck below. The party deck.

  The area is open on three sides, with half walls that give the appearance of a room and a ceiling, with subtle, atmospheric lighting. The living area seats fifteen. There’s a fireplace, two couches, an assortment of chairs, a coffee table, and a bar off to the side. The furniture is comfortable and stylish, but it’s made to withstand the elements. The salty sea and the blazing sun.

  On the other side of the living room is the dining table. The head and foot of the table do not have chairs. They have small couches similar to a settee. My father is sitting in the one on the port side, while my place is the same exact spot on the starboard side of the table.

  “Ah,” my father says as he stands, placing his napkin on the table as he waves me over to the other place. “You look better. How are you feeling, Harper?”

  “Fine.” I don’t mean to answer him so quickly. I actually think it’s a bad idea to talk to him at all until I get more of my bearings. But old habits die hard.

  When my father asks you a question, you respond politely. And that’s exactly what I did.

  I walk over to the place set for me and wait for the staff to pull my chair out and then push me in.

  I don’t recognize my attendant and my father must notice that I’m wondering who he is, because he says, “Davis is… no longer with us.”

  “Oh.” Does that mean he quit? Or does that mean I killed him with the others when I poisoned the water last summer?

  I don’t ask and he doesn’t offer. But I know it’s the latter.

  I have to swallow hard to get past that realization. Davis was a part of my life since I was born. I’m a terrible person. A terrible, evil person.

  I push that thought away and pick up my napkin, placing it on my lap like the lady I am. I have impeccable manners in a formal setting.

  The servers appear with bottled water and they place one down in front of me.

  I look at my father and he smiles. “You can’t be too careful.”

  I just stare at him.

  “Did you make a call to your James, then?”

  I shake my head. “No, sir.”

  “Why not?” my father asks, as he holds his empty glass out for the staff to take and then accepts a new drink. He prefers whiskey. Good, strong, American whiskey. Which is funny, if you ask me. Because it’s so cheap. You’d think a man with all his money would move on to Scotch or brandy. Isn’t that what refined men on boats drink in books?

  “I have nothing to say to him,” I whisper.

  The server brings me a salad. The greens are the kind that taste sweet and not bitter. My father gets the bitter leaves. So he really did have this meal made specially for me. Why?

  I lift my salad fork and start to eat.

  “Harper?” my father asks as soon as I take a bite, forcing me to grab my napkin and swallow down the food in a rush so I can answer.

  “Yes?”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “Who?” I ask, stunned at his gall and pissed off at his intrusion.

  “Tet.”

  “Of course he touched me.”

  My father stares hard at me. Probably not sure what I meant by that. But I don’t give a shit. If he wants to know if I fucked James, let him come out and ask me. I take another bite of salad as I wait for his reaction.

  He surprises me by looking down at his food and dropping the subject.

  Score one for Harper. Because I did not lie. And bonus points for making the great Admiral squirm, even if it was just internally.

  “So tell me about your days.”

  “My days?” I repeat, like I’m confused. But I’m not confused. At least not about his question. I’m confused as to what the hell he’s actually doing here. “Most of them were pretty boring. I stayed inside a lot.”

  “That’s not what I heard. I was told you left every morning and evening to exercise on the beach.”

  “Did James tell you that?”

  “No, Number One told me that.”

  I drop my fork. “You mean the guy who drugged me?”

  “Yes, well. He wasn’t always so insubordinate. He was my best assassin until Tet took him out.”

  “But obviously James did not take him out.”

  “Obviously, James didn’t do anything. I told you, do not mix them up.” My father chews and then swallows. “Tet is a mess.”

  “Hmm.”

  My father smiles an indulgent smile, like such matters are above my level of comprehension. “Let me guess. Tet gave you that old spiel about mothers being killed and fathers standing by.”

  I just stare at my plate as I shuffle the green leaves around.

  “He’s insane, Harper. Long gone. He’s killed hundreds of people for the Company. And actually,” my father says, then stops to wipe his mouth and motion for the servers to remove his salad, “that number is so high, it might be in the thousands.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I whisper.

  “I’m sure. It’s improbable that one mad man could cause so much death and destruction. But he has. He’s the best we’ve ever had. And do you know why, Harper?” My father doesn’t wait for my answer. “Because he’s been conditioned since he was very small to not care about people. He’s been conditioned to lie and cheat. He’s been conditioned to get whatever he needs, any way he can. And he’s still alive today because he learned that lesson better than anyone else. Do you think I haven’t tried?”

  “Tried what?” I just stare at my father, not sure if he just admitted to trying to kill James or reform him.

  “But right now he’s being a good dog. Fetching that file for me. He’s got a vendetta with One. One has it. I want it. Tet is the perfect man for that job. And,” my father adds with a sly smirk, “it’s forced him to keep his deal with me. To deliver you.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. He a
greed to find you and bring you back after you showed him the file. But One…” My father shakes his head. And then he belts out a laugh unexpectedly. A guffaw that echoes off the ceiling. “Do you want to know the really funny part?”

  I’m thinking no, but my father certainly isn’t paying any attention to what I want.

  “The really funny part is that I sent every assassin I had off to kill Tet over the past few years.”

  He stares at me, smiling, as I think about this for a few moments. “It didn’t work,” I say, my words just as unexpected as his laugh. “He told me… he told me he killed them all.”

  “All but one.”

  “Number One?”

  “No, Harper. He thought he killed One, but One has other plans. So even though One tricked him, that was still a score in Tet’s mind. No, the job he never finished was Number Zero.”

  “I don’t know all their numbers,” I say, like we’re talking about current affairs or the weather, and not men who kill people on command.

  “Of course not. But you’ve met her. Watched him finish her off just a couple hours ago.”

  My stomach rumbles and I just stare at my father, horrified.

  Sasha.

  How could I have forgotten that James shot Sasha?

  And just as I’m thinking that the boat begins to move. “Are we leaving?”

  “Did you really forget?” my father asks me, ignoring my question.

  My breathing is speeding up and I have the familiar heart palpitations. The sweat starts to gather on my brow and I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply to stop the chain reaction.

  A strong hand touches me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I thought you were playing a game. I didn’t realize you hadn’t remembered. She was your friend?”

  He hands me the bottle of water and I twist the cap until the plastic seal breaks and I take a sip.

  “I don’t know why Tet didn’t kill her as he was instructed. I don’t understand why the child didn’t finish the job I sent her to do. She had the element of surprise and she handled herself very well when I sent the assassins to kill her grandparents. So the only thing I can assume is that they were playing off each other. Do you know what they were doing, Harper?”

  I swallow my water and look up at my father towering above me. He scares me. For the first time in my life, he scares me. “I don’t know.”

  “We need to move,” he says, finally answering my question about the ship. “Her body wasn’t found and it hasn’t washed up. But we can’t risk searching anymore. So it’s better to get out into international waters in case the local authorities come asking questions.” He places a bottle of pills on the table. The orange bottle with the white top the same size and shape as all the others he’s given me over the years.

  “I’m not taking those,” I say, immediately pulling myself together.

  “No?” He walks back over to his seat just as the servers come in and place a covered plate in front of him. One is placed in front of me as well, and then the two servers remove the silver domed tops at the same time to reveal shark steaks, rice pilaf, and two slices of lime. “You’ve said that before, darling. But you know the pills help. So why deny yourself?”

  I just stare at him. Deny myself? That’s an unusual way to put it.

  “I’m not going to make you do anything, Harper. You’re a grown woman now. I’ve already stated, you’re not a prisoner.”

  “Then let me go.”

  “We’re out to sea.”

  “We have a tender.”

  “Yes, but it’s in need of repair. Which is why Tet had to hire a boat to bring you out to the ship.”

  I stop listening and instead take my attention to my food. I’m starving and there’s no way in hell I could resist this meal. I don’t know how many days I’ve really missed, but it’s several by the pain in my stomach. I cut the tender shark steak with my knife and start shoveling it into my mouth. Aside from that one nice dinner with James, I haven’t had many decent meals since I left home.

  “So,” my father continues, “now that you’re safe and Tet is off looking for your brother so he can bring that file to me, I’d like to make you a proposition.”

  I stop chewing and just stare at my plate. And then I regain my composer and swallow. “What kind of proposition?”

  “Your promise.”

  I look up at that and my father tisks his tongue. “No, Harper. Darling. You were not promised to Tet. Please have more faith in me that that. Why would I give you to a demented killer?”

  I have no idea. “Then who?”

  “No one on the ship that night. He’s a secret. A secret so powerful it will rock this Company to the core. You see, Harper, regardless of what most people think, I’m not the head of this organization. I’m just a convenient figure our enemies can focus on when they feel the need for revenge. I’m… a distraction. The real power belongs to someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “What do you think James will do when he figures this out? And what if I’d prefer James over this… new person?”

  “Harper. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

  “Like you kept my mother safe?”

  His expression hardens immediately. “Do not mention her again.”

  “Why, because you let her be killed?”

  He pounds his fists on the table, making all the silver jump. I jump as well and I find myself scooting back from the table, ready to flee. But then I realize I’m on a fucking ship. There’s nowhere to go.

  “Dinner’s over.” And then he stands up and walks a few steps before turning back to me. “Don’t forget your pills, Harper. The deeper you dig, and the more you want to know, the more likely you are to take them.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Harper

  “I’m not done,” I tell the server who comes to take my plate. I will be damned if I will be sent back to my cabin like a child when I’m still hungry. “Bring me dessert and then leave me alone to eat in peace.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the server closest to me says. And then with a nod, she signals her co-worker and they walk away.

  I eat every last bite of my shark steak, most of the rice, and the dessert—which is apple cobbler à la mode.

  I let out a long sigh.

  OK. So my father is still a prick and he’s got the upper hand. I’m stuck on this ship and I have no idea what he’s doing or where we’re going. But… I have to think up a but, because I need one right now. I need some inner reassurance that this is not over yet.

  But. I’m not that weak and scared little girl who left here last year. I’m different. And I don’t believe half that stuff he says about James. I accept that James can’t be all there. He’s responsible for too many atrocities to not be affected by it.

  But James was lucid and in control one hundred percent of the time we were together. Isn’t that all that matters? He was not indecisive or confused. So even if some of that stuff is true about his psyche, does it matter if it doesn’t affect him in his day to day life?

  But Harper, the reasonable me points out. You were only really with him for a few days. It’s one small snapshot of who he is.

  True. But he was always thinking of us.

  Except he killed Sasha.

  That makes me bring my napkin to my mouth to stifle my shock.

  How? How could he do that? We were only together for a short while, but we were like family. Why would he bother to care about her if his objective was to shoot her in the end? I don’t understand that.

  God, I wish I had a friend to talk to.

  My mind immediately goes to the phone. I want to text him so bad.

  I get up and go back to my room to change. The phone is still there. Right where I left it. I pick it up and find the message.

  I’m sorry.

  I can’t stop myself. I text back. Why? Just tell me why you’re doing these things. I press the send bu
tton and watch the little green bar as it tries to send my message. It fails and then the message string disappears. Dammit. I key in James’ number and rewrite the text, pushing send again. I repeat this process and press send several more times before I understand that we’re out to sea and my phone won’t work.

  “Score one for Dad,” I mumble, throwing the phone down on the bed.

  But I’m not going to sit in my cabin and mope, that’s for sure. So I put on a pair of clean shorts and a tank top, then slip on my flipflops and go back above deck. When I get to the party area, I plop down on one of the couches and tuck my feet up underneath me.

  “Jesus Christ, Harper, what the fuck is happening?”

  “I had no idea your mouth was so filthy. Your father never mentioned that.”

  I stand up so I can see over the dining table. The direction the unfamiliar voice came from. “Excuse me?” I don’t see anything beyond but the empty deck and the black sky.

  “Sorry,” a man says, standing up from the hot tub on the outer deck. The thick muscles of his chest drip water as he steps out, and then he smiles at me, just as he grabs one of the large white towels with the ship’s name monogrammed on them. He drags it across his face and chest and then tosses it aside.

  I have lost my mind. My heart shudders and then stops. I have to sit down quickly because I know without a doubt I am going to faint.

  Strong hands catch me just before I fall and lay me down across the couch cushions. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you up here so soon after dinner. This wasn’t the way I wanted us to meet.”

  I sit up because I feel like I’m suffocating. His touch sends chills up my spine and I put a hand up to push him away.

  I meet his eyes briefly and my head spins.

  “James?” I know it’s not him, but I can’t stop myself from asking. “James? Is that you?”

  The man who looks like James, but who I know is not James, shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. I’m Vincent.” He smiles at me and there’s a twinkle in his green eyes that makes me hold my breath again. “The control.”

  Chapter Thirteen