School starts, my freshman year, after a summer filled with many first. I didn’t fully know the long-term plan my parents arranged, mainly because I wasn’t included.
The biggest surprise was my parents had made arrangements for me to live in the dorm, but Dr. Vane wouldn’t hear of it. I would stay with him, just as I did all summer, reading books, taking walks and exploring every aspect of my newfound womanhood.
I was expected to attend like any other young woman, the aspect of school, teachers, and classmates just might save my sanity.
Although beneath it all, I was caught in a web of lies and secrets which had taken over my life. The bond we shared had a destructive edge to it. I felt both loved and betrayed, the thought was bitter. I felt high, then low. Empty yet full. I felt warm then cold. And endless cycle of extremes. He was loving and cruel simultaneously. I accepted both the man, and the monster.
Over time I grew to generally care for my dark master, and the man who showed genuine affection for me on a daily basis. It was a seduction at first, that’s the artistry of his pursuit. I will always be bound to him, there was something buried deep inside of me that linked our souls, our minds as one.
He continued as a professor, a pillar of the community, he held the hierarchy in high regard, and no one was the wiser, no one suspected who he was, what he became in the shadow of darkness. Where his truth was safely guarded.
My parents visited me throughout my college year, although not once did I return to the home where I grew up. In my absence, they finally had the freedom to explore their own adventures. They were able to solidify their partnership, their relationship, it’s what held them together. From the moment they met work came first, it always had. I believe I was only an accident, they loved me of course, but never actually wanted me. Now, without me there were no reigns to hold them back, so they lived moving from one dig to the next.
They never questioned my situation, on the surface I continued my overachiever status, and that reassured them their job parenting had come to a successful completion. Nothing could be further from the truth.
But in this moment, what choice did I have?
I thrust the terrace door open as I answer my phone. Furiously the cold air hit my face, causing a chill that rises up my spine as Flynn’s panicked voice rushes across the line. The veranda was lit up surrounded by the dark skies above. Armed with vital information, coming at me in a rapid-fire pace. “Flynn, calm yourself, start over.”
“I’ve stolen Graces journal. “
“So, let me get this straight, you read her private journal. Why?”
“Because she was hiding it from me, refusing to share the details.” I heard the calming breath over the line. “I read it Steel, it’s horrific, I tried to wrap my brain around it but…”
“Okay, Okay, I’m on my way.” Fire raging through my veins. “I’ll pick you up as soon as possible. Brief me then.”
I knew Flynn, and whatever he was thinking was fueled by his feelings for Grace. Fear crept into my mind, predicting it would be a disaster if I let his rage take control. I step back into the event searching for Nick. Nothing could ease the chill, the cold breeze lingers as my eyes focus on Andrew Quentin, Attorney General standing too close to my woman. I’m not a fan of this guy, I don’t trust him and now he just solidified my suspicions.
“It was Flynn, he needs me.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.” Gladly interrupting their conversation. “You stay, enjoy the event.” Hating to leave her with this vulture. Her hand sweeps up, and with the slightest touch cups my face.
“Is everything alright?”
“It will be.” A flicker of jealousy squeezes my heart as Quentin awaits in the background. “Just…please be careful around your boss.” I lean in whispering.
“I know how to handle him.” Her arms snake up my chest, then her hand wraps around my neck pulling me down, where her lips press against mine. “Be careful.” She says.
“Always.”
I was speeding down the long stretch of highway, eager to meet up with Flynn. Challenged by the idea of leaving Nick alone with Andrew Quentin, as unreasonable as that sounded knowing they saw each other on a daily basis at work, but all I saw was her in that red dress, and his eyes glued on her. I push the feelings down once I turn right onto Flynn’s street.
The car screeches to a halt, and Flynn comes flying out his front door, the cold wind had picked up causing him to clutch his collar and tuck his chin underneath until he opens the car door and climbs inside.
“Thanks man.” Removing his gloves, he sat a thick manila envelope on the dash. “Head towards the University of Nevada.”
My gaze shifts to his, there was a look he couldn’t hide, a look that revealed more than just anger, revenge brewing into rage. We were both going to confront Vane, or that was my best guess.
“Fill me in.” I ask. He reaches for the envelope pulling out Grace’s notebook, her most private thoughts mixed with memories coming back in waves. All respect for privacy fell aside as he began to read. I was horrified, mesmerized. Every word sickened me, what Vane had done to Grace and the thought of the many women who came before her.
“He’s fucked up.”
“You’re right about that.” I say. “What wild scheme have you cooked up?” We were only minutes from the campus and my nerves pick up.
“I only want to confront the man, but we need the advantage.” Flynn tucks the notebook back into its envelope, protecting its contents.
“And when you say advantage?”
“Park off campus, from there we’ll be on foot. Keep out of sight and disable the alarms.” He states.
“Not much of a plan.”
“You got a better one?”
As we cross the barren field, the lack of security isn’t surprising under the circumstances.
“Are you sure this is Vane’s?”
“Yes, it’s the only house with a steeple.”
We crept around the perimeter of the old church, now the residence of evil personified. Nothing out of context considering this was an old Victorian style structure, built at the turn of the century. The far end had a unique cellar door common to its era. I catalog the information then quietly unlock the slider only as a precautionary measure. Flynn gives me an approving nod, as he clips the main wire to all security.
The wind picks up and I try to slow my heart down to a regular beat. A vein pulses as we approach the front door. I press the door bell and follow it by a hard three knocks. I lock eyes with Flynn his jaw clenching hard. Footfalls are heard approaching as the door swings open. We’re greeted by an older man.
“May I help you?” He asks, but he doesn’t hide his annoyance.
“We’re here to see Dr. Vane.” His frown deepens. “We’re with P.I. Security Firm. I’m Steel Archer.” I nod towards the man at my flank. “This is Flynn.”
“What is your business, at this indecent time of night?” His shoulders tighten, his spine straightens. “What is this regarding?” He continues, as I meet his gaze.
“An on-going investigation.” I could sense him stalling. “Or would you prefer we take this up tomorrow and visit Dr. Vane at the university.”
“That won’t be necessary, come in.” Once over the threshold we stop at the landing. “I’ll announce your arrival to Dr. Vane, please wait here.”
With tensions mounting Flynn begins to pace, careening around corners, twisting doorknobs assessing which were locked. “Knock it off, I’d rather not get thrown out of here before we get the chance to talk with Vane.”
“For some crazy reason, I thought we were here to investigate.” His sarcasm wasn’t a surprise, I understood the rage inside, knowing this man had hurt, and damaged Grace. A most vulnerable young woman. I just couldn’t prove how far Vane had gone. Not yet.
The old man returns a scowl on his face. “Follow me.”
We’re ushered into the study the arched doorways and matching floor to ce
iling windows are striking, standing out in the center of the room is roaring marble fireplace, its flames licking tall reaching high into the flue. Seated proudly at his grand mahogany desk framed by the hand carved bay window is Dr. Vane. His raven black hair slicked back, his meticulous appearance has an old-world feel. Yet he doesn’t stand, doesn’t greet us. That is until the old man speaks.
“Sir, may I present a Mr. Archer and Mr. Flynn.” Vane nods to the tall lanky gray-haired man. “If you need anything…sir.”
“We’re fine, Godfrey. Leave us.” He steeples his hands, his gaze dissecting our every move. “Do you make it a habit to arrive unannounced, and uninvited gentlemen?”
“Actually, we do.” Flynn blurts out. “Gives us the upper hand in our line of work.” I notice his fist clenching, working overtime. I cross the floor intentionally reaching the desk, he rises up to lock gazes.
“We’re here for answers Vane.” I say with contempt.
“Contrary to what you may think, I have nothing to do with that girl found.” There was a threat in his darkened eyes. The silence that followed was spine chilling.
“There’s evidence proving overwise.” He was wrapped up in this, I was sure of it. I just needed him to trip up. Give me something to use against him.
“Recognize this?” Raising my phone to his face, the image clearly visible. The necklace worn by the woman he buried in a shallow grave. He didn’t even blink when the necklace was crusted with dirt and time, dangling by the decayed neck of the young girl.
“You’re referring to the necklace Mr. Archer?” He takes a left around his desk to deliver the blow. “I give that to any student who achieves a straight A average throughout the year, men get bracelets. The police have already been here and cleared me.”
“And Grace Novak?” Flynn blurts out.
“That ungrateful strumpet.” Strumpet? Betrayal brewed in his eyes.
“Show some respect.” Flynn moves in until he’s nose to nose but doesn’t push Vane, he only snorts, but I know my friend, the fire breathing dragon was on the edge of exploding.
“I had tutored her and gave her shelter here, the entire length of her education, she left without so much as a goodbye or a thank you.”
“That’s not all you did, Dr Hawthorne Vane.” Flynn’s temper holding on by a thread, valiantly defending Grace’s honor. He felt something for Grace, something more than affection. “Admit it, Vane!”
“I will do no such thing.” Crossing the floor towards the fireplace, their shoulders bump, a male warning of sorts. Vane rests his forearm on the mantel rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “All my life I’ve dedicated myself to educating the young, and now you accuse me of… You think I committed a crime?”
A memory flashes across his face as a menacing smile slips into place. That’s all the proof I need. “Yes, I think you’ve done horrible things, unforgivable things.” Approaching the large fireplace. “You knew both girls, they were your students, and something more. Isn’t the right, Dr.?”
“Your hypothesis needs work Mr. Archer.” I shift towards the man as the flames were dying down, but his heartless blue eyes never falter. Trusting my instincts, I finally say.
“I suspect there’s a long list of women Vane.” Followed by a moment of silence, my own emotions mounting. I can’t pretend as the agonizing words come pouring out.
“But you’ve hurt them, scarred them, tortured each young woman. Groomed them to be what you needed, the sick fuck that you are. You seduced your prey into submission. Each one unknowingly subject to your perverse sexual desires.” I take a calming breath to deliver the prevailing punch.
“Then discard them like trash.”
I set him off, his chin juts out, his voice tightening with anger, the fury burning over his features “I’ve never killed anyone.” His jaw grows tighter, his loud voice almost convincing, and for one solidary moment I believe him. The first traces of doubt linger, yet my experience and instinct is screaming he’s guilty.
As tension builds something crazy sets him off, and in a sudden violent move, he sweeps his arm over the mantel decorated with valuable trinkets and framed pictures, all its contents scatter and break onto the floor. “I’ll make it blatantly clear.” His breathing hard and fast. “You’re delusional, I might be a sick fuck, but I’m not a murderer.”
I hold my ground, seeing shadows move in the night. Just then lightening streaks across the skies, a blinding light seen through the panels of tall glass, temporarily blinding me. Followed by a burst of wind as it roared, the sounds of the old house as it creaked and groaned in protest. A shadow darted, the lights went out, everything went black except the coals still smoldering in place. Left only with hazy vision, I turn towards Flynn searching for my partner, only seeing a foggy memory of the room’s layout.
Trained in all aspects I drop behind the wing-backed chair, one knee on the floor. I reach for my gun, the Glock’s clear devise sound of pulling the slide back is heard throughout the room. Yet nothing prepares me for what’s about to happen. In slow motion the seconds tick by like hours, as my life changes in one singular moment.
A gunshot echoes, and a flash of light sparks, the shot replaces all other sounds. “Take cover.” I yell, hitting the ground, glock in hand. Another flash of light burst as another shot rang out hitting the wingback chair. Instinctively I aim towards the shot and squeeze the trigger, I hear the blast and see a body jolt forward. I heard a moan followed by the thud of a body. Horror swept through me as my adrenaline went soaring.
“Flynn.” I whisper, yet there’s only silence. A wave of hot rage soars as the lights flicker on only exposing the horror. Casting a glance behind me seeing Flynn down on the floor of the long hallway. His body still, frozen in place. Everything crumbled, I felt it down to the bone. I make my way crossing down the wooden floor, paralyzed by Flynn’s body a shot grazing his forehead, and open wound on his skull bleeding as he lies unconscious. And my heart falters as the fear coils in the pit of my stomach, a knot tied so tightly. Flynn struggling for each breath. Blame rippled through me.
The lights flickered then went on lighting the room with ghastly images. And there stood Vane’s servant, holding the gun down by his side aimed towards the floor. Godfrey gun in hand. It was like being hit by a tidal wave, he wasn’t even on my radar. I’m past stunned. “Drop it.” I yell, pointing my weapon at him, easing my way back to my knees. “Drop it I said.” I meet his gaze, but all he saw was the second body. Vane lying on the floor bleeding out, one shot to the head.
Red, thick blood trickles from his temple at a steady pace, spreading across the floor, pooling around his head. I hear the thud of a gun drop and the man run to his side. “Get me a towel.” I yell and begin to press on the wound, but I can’t make it stop. Blood smattered on the wall from the exit wound in the back of his head. Panic spreads like wildfire running through my veins as the reality sets firmly in place. As the life in front of me slips away, shadowed horror races through my body as reality sets in.
Vane was dead, gone.
I watch from the corner of my eye as the Godfrey’s reality hits him hard. “Hawthorne, my sweet boy, don’t leave me.” He says. kneeling by his side, his hand covering his mouth as he sobs over the monumental loss, I had yet to understand. And in that final moment I realized there was a distinctive resemblance, they were family.
Yet behind me lays the real tragedy Flynn’s hit, unconscious. My Gaze darts up at the old man. “What have you done?” I made my way down the hall. The weight wrapping around my lungs as if a ball and chain were dragging behind. I had to force myself to relax fight for each constricting breath as my soul turns to stone, and a bolder sits on my chest as the reality hits me in slow tortuous waves.
Ignoring Godfrey’s pathetic excuses, I dial nine-one-one. I pull off my coat, rolling it into a ball applying pressure to his head wound. Then suddenly it hits me. I ripped his jacket open, and found his concealable armor vest, just as I had done, just as we
had been trained.
Flynn’s heart beating strong and steady. Thank god, now we’re dealing with only the head wound. I turn gazing over my shoulder. “Listen old man, you go anywhere, I’ll shoot you myself.” But his focus was on the motionless body on the floor. And the two weren’t my concern at this point. Flynn, I couldn’t tell the severity of his wound, the blood wasn’t clotting, and my coat was saturated with my best-friends blood. The air caught in my lungs as I struggle to breathe as fear presses on. Adrenaline pumping hard, losing him would haunt me forever.
“Flynn, can you hear me?” Trying to coax him awake. Damn him, he’d been too wound up with revenge to react instinctively. One simple mistake and it had all gone terribly wrong.
I hear the sirens approach their breaks screech to a halt on the wet pavement slick and glassy. I hear voices as one by one the police and EMT’s step inside and scan the room, reacting with precision accuracy. I was forced to take a step away, pushed into the corner. Several seconds pass as two teams split into action, each working on the two men on the floor.
A voice came from behind gesturing for me to follow. “I’m going with him.” Pointing to Flynn now surrounded by four men, wires and medical devices linked to his body.
“What’s your name?” The officer asked.
“Steel.” Growing distant a chill settles over me, the thought this could be the last time I might see my friend alive haunted me.
I hear someone calling for me, the same officer now witnessing me unravel at the seams. “I’m not going anywhere without Flynn.” The silence that follows feels like an eternity, but in reality, I was on the ground in seconds, three officers holding me down while one clipped the handcuffs on. The harder they engaged, the angrier I got.
I wasn’t leaving Flynn; my conscience wouldn’t allow it. I fought hard, hard as trying to bottle thunder. But in the end, it barely registered as they carted him away. My heart was thundering as I heard the words from down the hall. “Then off to the morgue.” And a shadow of guilt surges through my veins, the question branded in my brain. Who shot who?
Hard as Steel: Book four ( Surviving Series ) Page 16