Family Ties

by Tricia Andersen

  Ame’s mouth fell open in shock. “You want to date me?”

  “Yeah. You’re beautiful and smart. You’re funny and an incredible artist. I’ve wanted to for a long time, but never had the courage to ask.”

  Ame couldn’t speak. She just raised herself on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. As their kiss broke apart she giggled. “Sure, I’ll be your girlfriend. You saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

  Dakota chuckled. “You’re so kind.”

  Their laughter subsided quickly as their lips drifted together in another kiss. The sound of a clearing throat broke this one apart. A smooth, deep brogue spoke.

  “Am I interrupting anything?” Sloan quizzed, dressed in his usual Armani suit and looking like the dangerous man they knew him to be. Behind him was Abbey wearing a white ruffled blouse, floor length black skirt and an amused smile.

  “Daddy!” Ame let go of Dakota and flew to her father, wrapping him tight in her arms.

  “I told you I would make it. But we need to go. The line is already moving into the gym and Dakota’s parents are searching for him.”

  Ame turned to Dakota, his face paling slightly at being caught kissing her. A smirk spread across Sloan’s face. There was no doubt he saw the fear in the teen’s eyes. Finally, Sloan reached out and offered his hand. “Your parents are looking for you, lad. You better hurry along. Ame can catch up to you later for a dance or two.”

  Dakota shook Sloan’s hand. “Thank you, sir. I promise I’ll always put Ame first.”

  “You’ve already proven that.”

  Dakota offered a weak smile before heading back toward the others. He was caught briefly in Abbey’s hug. Ame beamed as he hugged her mother back tightly. The family followed behind him toward the gymnasium.

  Nearly the entire group of teenagers had taken their turn in the grand march, leaving only a few families waiting. The O’Riley’s took their places at the end of the line. Ame grinned at her father then turned and looped her arm with her mother. She couldn’t remember being happier in her life. She knew the truth about her parents and it wasn’t so bad. Actually it was kind of cool living with spies. Dating the boy she had a huge crush on for so long was just icing on the cake.

  Dean Williams winked at her then motioned them into the room. The beautiful music echoed off the walls of the near capacity gym. The melody was accompanied by the gasps and “oohs” of the spectators. It wasn’t every day that the great Sloan O’Riley showed up at a school dance. Ame watched him, seeing the smirk still on his face then glanced at her mother catching her giggling at him. As they reached the halfway point they were met with cheers. Ame glanced over to find her grandparents, brothers and sister, aunts, uncles and cousins there for her. This had to be the best night of her life.

  Once they reached the end of the march, the music changed. Abbey gently kissed each of them on the cheek then sashayed toward their waiting family. Nearly every one of her classmates’ fathers watched her as she passed. Sloan’s grin turned to a momentary scowl at the attention his wife was receiving. Ame nudged her father as the dance began.

  Ame felt like a princess out of a fairy tale as Sloan swept her across the floor. She knew her dad was a great dancer. She had seen him dance with her mom when…well, about nine months before one of her siblings were born. But tonight felt so magical she almost expected to have household objects serenade along with the song. As the final notes ended their feet stopped. He let her go and took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Then he led her a few steps away to place it in Dakota’s stunned one. With a proud nod, Sloan smiled and strode off.

  “Would you like to dance?” Dakota asked with a laugh.

  “I’d love to,” Ame giggled.

  Together the teens hurried off into the crowd of their classmates as the next song started.

  »»•««

  The loud music and the chatter of teenagers echoed through the dark hallways of the high school. Shadows of large figures slipped across the walls as two men drifted away from the party. Sloan shot a look over his shoulder and smiled as he watched the boys and girls have fun. Ame laughed as she, Ava, and Dakota danced. The sparkle in her eyes and her beaming face as he escorted her into the gym stole his heart. The past few weeks proved just how strong, smart, and beautiful she was. He sighed sadly. She was growing up so fast.

  Sloan picked up his pace when Gordon cleared his throat. He opened the fabric grocery sack he held and pulled free the flattened ball, the wax pencil and butcher paper. The ball’s colors were even more faded in the dark. He handed each to Gordon. One by one, the older Irishman examined the items.

  “Explain this to me,” Sloan said, his voice teetering between a demand and a plea.

  “Sloan, anyone could have these items. You need to tread lightly.”

  “This is the ball I chased into the street, Gordon. It was burned into my memory. Do you see the bullet hole that pierced it?”

  “Aye. I do.” Gordon cradled the old piece of rubber in his hands. “But anyone could have taken a ball similar to the one you remembered and altered it to look like it was forty years old.”

  “Then what about the pencil and paper? The pencil was embossed with my father’s butcher shop.”

  “Again, it could have been altered.”

  Sloan shook his head. “The Butcher is trying to send a message. Why is he trying to direct me back to the shooting at my father’s shop?”

  “I don’t know, lad.”

  They turned at the sound of footsteps. Sloan took a breath, readying an apology and excuse for wandering the school’s hallways. He knew it wouldn’t be needed. Since a vast majority of the school’s staff was female all he would have to do is flash his trademark sensual smirk and whoever it was would apologize for disturbing them. He smiled as Bartholomew approached them, a tablet clutched to his chest.

  “What do you have, B?” Sloan questioned.

  Bartholomew let go a long exhale. “I may have the answer to all your questions and the beginning of a whole new list of questions all rolled up in one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It seems our little assassin shot more than Oliver. It seems in different sense she shot the Butcher too. She saw the man set those things on the ground.” He nodded to the ball in Gordon’s hands. “She didn’t know if he was involved with Oliver and his men until it was too late, and she watched him kill Oliver after your gunfight. But before the man climbed inside she took his picture with her cell. The photos were dark so she gave them to me to clear up.”

  “There are no pictures of the Butcher,” Gordon insisted. “Those who took the chance were killed on the spot.”

  “Yeah, well he wanted her to take them. He looked directly at her and waited for them to be taken. With a few passes through my photo software I was able to clean them up then I ran them through the CIA database. They were linked back to a dead man. One who died forty years ago in Belfast, Northern Ireland. But I didn’t need to search the databases. I knew who he was just looking at the picture. The resemblance is uncanny.”

  “Resemblance to who?” Sloan insisted.

  Bartholomew handed him the tablet. “To you.”

  Gordon shifted behind Sloan’s shoulder as the two men glanced at the screen of the tablet. Bartholomew wasn’t kidding. The man in the photo looked like Sloan twenty years in the future. His black hair was streaked with silver but his ice blue eyes were still bright and sharp. Their height and build were near exact. “It can’t be,” Sloan breathed.

  “Who was the dead man the database gave you?” Gordon queried uneasily.

  The tablet slipped from Sloan’s hand and fell to the floor, shattering the screen. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Forty years of mourning. He had fought to avenge his father’s death. For years until he met Abbey it had been his sole mission in life. And now, to learn the man who had nearly killed them, the man who had taken his little girl…

  Before Bartholomew could open
his mouth, Sloan spoke. “The man in the photo, the Butcher, is Colin Morrison. My father is alive.”

  About the Author

  Tricia Andersen lives in Iowa with her husband, Brian, and her children, sons Jake and Jon, and daughter Ali. She graduated from the University of Iowa with a Bachelor of Arts in English and from Kirkwood Community College with an Associate of Arts degree in Communications Media/Public Relations. When she’s not writing (which she loves to do), Tricia practices mixed martial arts, coaches and participates in track and field, reads, and is involved in many of her children's activities.

  If you enjoyed this book, this author has other works available here:

  Author's Web Site

  Hartwood Publishing delights in introducing authors and stories that open eyes, encourage thought, and resonate in the hearts of our readers.