He sighs and shakes his head once more. "From the moment I opened that door, I saw it in your eyes." He twists to me so that his elbow hangs off the edge of the railing. "I can see that haunted look on your face as if you’ve just seen a ghost. So tell me, who is the ghost?”
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I push my tongue against the inside of my cheek, contemplating if I should even say anything to him. He's going think I'm crazy or he's going to overreact. And I'm not sure which one is worse right now. "Let's just say that there have been multiple resurrections lately."
“You're starting to scare me, little bro. And you know me, I'm not afraid of anything."
"That's not exactly true though, right?" I roll my eyes and take a step back. "Off the top of my head, I can list multiple things you are afraid of. And though you won’t admit them because of your pride or your ego, I know that there are things that still keep you up at night."
He swallows, almost nervously as he glances back at the door. And then when he looks back to me, it's almost as if he understands exactly what I'm saying. “Look, Anna is inside sleeping peacefully. And that's my life now. Nothing keeps me awake at night anymore. I've got a good life, and I'm not going to ruin that by getting lost in the past or whatever it is that is bothering you right now."
“So you're saying that you don't want to be who you’ve always been?"
His tongue bats across his bottom lip, wetting it. "Look, I haven't told anyone this, but I'm thinking about retiring from the security game. I've had a good run with it and I've managed to survive up until now, but Anna is pregnant and I need to start thinking about my family. I need to start thinking about the kid that we are going to have. I don't want him or her to go through what we went through. I want my child to have a real family, and that involves me being alive. And I'm just not sure if the reward is worth the risk anymore." He drops his head lowly. “You’re right. I've changed. And I'm actively working to erase all the things in my life, whatever keeps me awake at night. What happened in that tower just a few short months ago changed me. For the first time in a long time, for the first time since the Seth Grimm incident, I was actually afraid for my life. But more than that, I was afraid for Anna's. I don't know if I can go back to that life."
Well, this is the absolute worst thing he could be saying to me right now considering the circumstances that brought me here. More and more I'm feeling like he is not going to be receptive to what it is that I need to ask him to do. And what I need to ask him is for him to be in this with me. Because I can't do it alone. I've never been able to do it alone. I've never been able to stand on my own two feet and I have enough pride and self awareness to know that it’s true. My ego can't be strong right now; a strong ego is not something I can afford. Knowing that Seth is alive changes everything. Just when I was about to finally be able to sleep at night, he reared his ugly head once more and I'm sucked back into that world of fear.
And nobody has ever made me afraid before, not like Seth anyways. There was just something about him that shook me to my very core. And I think that’s because for the first time, I saw a man who was as evil as a storybook villain. It's not often in life that one comes face-to-face with that kind of malevolence. It's not often in one's life that you run across someone who is so evil at their core that it's almost like there's no humanity left behind their eyes. And that's exactly what’s hiding behind Seth Grimm’s eyes; pure, unadulterated evil.
“You're right.” I push forcibly back, away from the rails to take a major step backwards. And then I punch one fist against an open palm, shake my head, and bite into my lower lip. "I did come here for a specific reason and I know you're not going to want to hear it, but I need you to listen."
He looks back at the front door once more before grabbing my arm and pulling me sideways until we are racing down the few front steps of the porch. He drags me around the front of the building and to the side so that we are against the white paneling of the exterior of his house.
“You are starting to scare me," he says to me quietly, almost in a whisper so that Anna cannot hear from inside. And that's probably a good thing. "If you are into some kind of trouble, then you need to tell me."
"That's what I've been trying to do…" I look away from him for a brief moment and take notice of birds singing in the trees. And then I look back to him with a severe, grave look. "It's about Seth Grimm."
He swallows nervously.
"He's alive," I continue, lock my eyes with him. "And I know that sounds crazy—”
“Yeah, it's insane,” he cuts me off with gritted teeth. “What the hell has gotten into you?"
"See!” I wag my finger in his face and break away from him. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."
"Damn straight. You're talking like a crazy person.”
“It’s not just him, either.” I drag the back of my palm over my forehead and chuckle lowly. If he’s not going to believe that Seth’s alive, he’s most definitely not going to believe that his daughter is alive as well. “Lola—”
“Stop.” He throws a finger up in the air and tenses his throat. “If what you’re saying—”
“It’s true.” I purse my lips, shake my head. “And I don’t know how it’s true, but it is. And there’s more.”
“Jesus,” he scoffs. “How could there be anything else?”
“That woman that kidnapped you and Anna? She said she was Lola’s sister and Seth’s daughter.”
“That woman was a psychopath.” He points squarely at me. “The story she was selling, that she was Lola’s sister and that her name was Lola Grimm as well, it was all bullshit.”
I shrug with apathy, there’s not much I’m going to be able to say to convince him that all of these things are true, but I’m going to try anyway. “There were two Lola Grimms.”
He doesn’t say a word, only chuckles uncomfortably under his breath. He chews into his lip like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he might regret, or perhaps it’s because saying anything at all in the moment just might give credence to the fact that I’m telling him the truth.
“I’m just going to assume that Lola is the one who gave you this information,” he finally begins, “and I’m only assuming that because despite what I think about her, I can’t believe you’d lie to me. That being said, again assuming she’s actually alive, how can you trust a word she says? How can you trust that her father is alive too?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just do.” I scratch nervously at the back of my head. “Trust me that this is weird for me too, scary even, but if she’s alive, I have no reason to believe that her father isn’t alive too. And I can’t exactly make sense of how that happened, but I’m looking to get more answers.”
He cocks his head towards me with a curious hook of his brow. “Why are you here?”
“Because I needed to tell you,” I point out, confused because I thought I’ve made it clear why I’m here.
“Yeah, but why?” He takes a careful step backwards and gestures with his hands outwards. “I don’t want anything to do with this, just so we’re clear.”
“Come on, Zane.” I force a smile, but it’s anything but happy. “You know I can’t do this alone.”
“Or how about you don’t do it at all?” he questions defiantly. “How about you leave Lola and Seth Grimm in the past where they belong?” He looks away for a split second to catch his breath and find his thoughts before shaking his head gently. “You need to make peace with the Grimm family, accept that they’re alive or whatever you need to do, but it’s been almost a year and he’s not exactly a patient man. He has a thousand enemies and he’s probably not even thinking about us, so my advice is to just let it go.”
“I can’t do that.” I chew into my bottom lip and shake my head furiously. “And you shouldn’t be able to, either.”
“Dammit, Zach!” He yells and then moves to immediately correct himself so his pregnant wife inside can’t hear. He approaches me cautio
usly, places a calming hand on my shoulder and looks me dead in the eyes. “These people almost killed you.”
I purse my lips and sigh softly, drop my head just a little so that I’m not staring into his judgmental eyes. “You’re not in this with me?”
“I have people to think about,” he says as low as a whisper.
“What about your brother? Am I not one of those people?”
He nods gently, takes his hand off my shoulder, and takes a measured step backwards. “I trust that you’re capable of putting an end to this… Don’t allow yourself to be dragged back into that world. Whatever she says she wants from you, there are strings attached. Just like last time. You cannot trust that woman.”
In the deepest level of my gut, I know that he’s right when he says that I can’t trust Lola. No matter the circumstances that led to the downward spiral of events that occurred, trusting her almost got both me and my brother killed the last time. There’s just something about her though, that equally, I can’t resist.
And maybe that weakness is going to be the death of me.
But knowing that he’s not going to help me in any shape or form, I decide to not tell him anything about what Lola said about Dom. Not only because I don’t know exactly what she’s talking about but also because he obviously doesn’t care.
I just nod at him as he does the same, and in the silence, it’s like we reach an understanding. Maybe it’s a twin thing, but he knows that I don’t have the ability to choose to walk away from this and I know that he’s not going to go back down the rabbit hole with me, not when he has a child on the way.
I don’t exactly blame him, but it’s going to be weird doing this without my brother at my side.
He’s always been there from the time we were babies, and I’ve been there for him just the same. When he first said he was going into the service, I made the split-second decision to do the same. And that’s just what happened, the two of us were sent away to basic training on two separate dates but ended up in the same unit and were deployed together three times.
More and more, I’m finding that I need to mark my own path in this world and just maybe this is the beginning of that.
But before I make a decision one way or another, I need more information.
CHAPTER THREE
LOLA
When people think about people who’ve faked their deaths, I’d bet that they imagine people like me hide out in another country or hide out somewhere deep in the forest or something. After all, the reason most people fake their own death is because they’re trying to hide from something or more often, someone.
Over the years, my father has taught me many things—both good and bad—but one of the lessons I’ve taken to heart is that the best place one could possibly hide is in plain sight. So after the explosion at the warehouse, I dragged my father all the way to the hills of Hollywood into one of his long-forgotten estates. The property is buried so deep in paperwork and anonymous buyers that I’m certain nobody looking for us could ever find us, and that’s assuming anybody is looking for us at all.
After all, we’re dead.
Through my connections with the appropriate authorities, I was able to have death certificates forged for both me and my father. I did everything right to give us a much-needed chance at a new life. But I should have known better. I should have known that he could never change because he doesn’t want to change.
And thus, on the eve of his re-emergence back into society, I’m putting together a plan that will send him and his nefarious associates into the grave once and for all. It’s only then that I’ll be able to finally be free from his grasp of corruption and evil.
Keys jangle in my hands as I close the car door behind me—a slick black ride—and make my way across the narrow driveway and step onto the front porch.
I take a moment to myself, to prepare myself for what comes next. Most people I’ve ever met would call me manipulative. And it’s true, I can wrap people around my finger like no other and I can lie with the best of them, but the one person I’ve never been able to lie to or fool is my father. It takes a monumental amount of energy to pretend when I’m around him.
I force myself to consider that I won’t have to pretend much longer because in two nights this will all be over for good. I sigh once more before pushing the front door open and stepping inside the dimly lit house.
It’s a modern house in every sense of the world with large floor-to-ceiling windows—that are always boarded up by dark blinds and curtains so nobody can see inside. The rooms inside are open and appear much larger than they actually are, and everything inside is white; the walls, the furniture, and the kitchen cabinets with a sole black marble island in the kitchen.
My father is sitting straight up in a loveseat facing the door, and his eyes level with mine. He cracks a wild grin before chewing into his bottom lip and then shaking his head gently. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Yeah.” I force the fakest smile I can muster as I close the distance between the front door and his chair. “You’re always waiting for something, aren’t you?”
“Nah.” He waves me off with a gentle chuckle that betrays his sinister heart. That’s the problem with men like my father, on the surface and at first glance, they can be beyond charming. It’s only after you stick around too long that they show who they really are. “The only thing I’m waiting for is getting out of this house.”
“That’s exactly what I was referring to.” I step past him and toss my purse onto the counter before prying open the cabinets and grabbing a rum glass. I sit the glass down onto the counter and fill it to the halfway point with whiskey before stepping back into the living room and pacing past my father.
He hooks his eyes up to me as a curious smile hitches across his lips. “Thank you,” he says softly and reaches upwards for the glass.
I force another smile and push the glass into his hands. “It was actually for me, but you can have this one and I’ll pour another.”
He nods and takes a sip before his eyes are following me again. Just as I’m about to pass him again to head back into the kitchen, he grabs me around my wrist, stealing my attention.
I look down at him with fear in my eyes and swallow nervously. I’m not exactly playing the part of a doting daughter in the moment, but there’s just something in his eyes, something I can’t quite pinpoint and it terrifies me. It’s like he knows that I’m about to betray him… again.
His smile fades slightly, just enough so that it becomes somewhat somber. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thanks…” I manage to free myself from his grip and push my hair behind one ear. “Dad.”
He shifts his attention elsewhere and sips on his drink as I make my way into the kitchen to pour another drink. As I pour the whiskey into the glass, I close my eyes and try to refocus my thoughts, but the truth is that I’m too tired and too exhausted to keep up this charade, for the night at least.
I throw my head back and swallow the entirety of the drink in one go before immediately pouring another and making my way back into the living room. I drop down onto the couch adjacent from my father and kick one leg over the other.
“Is everything ready?” he questions, turning his attention to me. “For my grand entrance back into the world of the living?”
I nod and take a sip, reveling in the way the whiskey burns against the back of my throat. It’s much preferable than trying to swallow the unadulterated hatred I have for my father. “Everything is on track. We’ve already sent out the emails alerting all the key associates to come to the event.”
“And nobody is any the wiser that we’re still alive?”
“Nobody except for Richard Calloway.” I reach forward and sit the glass onto the white marble coffee table. “He’s our man on the inside.”
“I’ve always believed Richard to be an upstanding gentleman.” He rises to stand and sits his glass next to mine before stepping over to the floor-to-ceiling windows b
eside the front door and peeling the curtains back. “He’s always been fond of you as well, you know?” He cranes his head over his shoulder to pass me a smile.
I want to roll my eyes, but I force myself to remember that I’m playing a part. The truth is the thought that that man—Richard Calloway—is fond of me isn’t something I’m about to be proud of. To my knowledge, he’s directly responsible for the deaths of countless innocent men.
“Well, he’s thrilled to be a part of this.” I grab my glass, rise to stand, and meet my father beside the window. With my free hand, I reach for the curtain and pull it to a close. “And in the meantime, you need to remain hidden.”
He presses his tongue against his cheek and spins around to face me eye-to-eye. While his eyes linger on me, he takes a long drink from his glass and follows it with a sigh. “You really are so damn beautiful.”
“Stop it,” I command him and shake my head wildly. “You know, there is more to me than my looks.”
“I know that,” he says with a condescending tone. “It was just an observation.”
“Do you know that though?” I scowl at him and spin on my feet so that he’s facing my back and I can let down my guard for a brief moment. With my back to him, I can stop pretending that I’m a doting daughter and just wallow in the disgust he makes me feel in the deepest pits of my gut. “It’s all you ever talk about.”
“Lola,” he cautions me from behind and I can hear his glass clinking as he sits it down onto the console table between the door and the windows. Then, I can hear his feet padding along the hardwood floors as he approaches me from behind before placing a palm on each of my shoulders. “I’ve forgiven you.”
This is the time where I really have to put on a show worthy of an Oscar. I twist to him with a sullen look on my face, one that screams guilt and anguish, but deep inside, I’m not upset because I tried killing him. I’m upset because I didn’t follow through with it the first time.
Ford Security Page 47