"Fuck!" I yell as I slam my palm against the elevator door.
I hate him. I hate my father. I hate him so damn much.
I storm through the loft, down the hall to the room I use as an office. I open the bottom drawer of my desk and take out my gun. I load it and grab more bullets and storm back out of the room. I put my coat on, shoving the gun and bullets in my pocket and go down to my car.
I drive to my parents' mansion, speeding the entire way. When I get there, I sit at the gate, my heart hammering in my chest.
I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my forehead. What the hell am I doing here?
"Mr. Kensington?" The voice is coming from the speaker attached to the gate. It's one of the security guards. He can see my car on the cameras.
I roll my window down. "Yes, it's Pearce."
"I'm sorry, sir, but you're not allowed on the premises. Mr. Kensington has asked that—"
"Yes, I know. I was just turning around." I quickly back up, then accelerate down the street and turn onto the main road that goes into town.
What the fuck was I thinking? I can't kill my own father. It's wrong. I know it's wrong and yet I almost did it. It was pure instinct. I was driven by rage. I wasn't even thinking. What does that say about me? That I'm turning into him? I kill without even thinking?
I have to stop this. I am not my father and I will not become him. I will not let his actions dictate mine. He knew what he was doing by telling Rachel those things. He knew it would provoke me and maybe he thought I'd come after him. Maybe he wanted me to. Maybe he wanted to see how far he could push me before I'd go over the edge and do something drastic.
I'm not taking the bait. I am beyond enraged over what he did, but I will deal with it another way. And I will find a way to undo the damage he has done.
I drive until I arrive at the indoor shooting range. I always come here to practice, but I haven't had time the past few weeks. Now is the perfect time. I feel the need to shoot something.
I spend an hour there, shooting repeatedly at the target, imagining it's my father. My aim is perfect. I've never shot better in my life.
When I leave, I feel more at ease, but I still don't know what to do about Rachel. I can't show up at her place until I have a plan. I have to figure out what to say to her.
I drive to Jack's office, but when I get there, his secretary says he's at home. I head over there, and as I drive up to his house, I realize I forget to call and tell him I was coming over.
"You can't keep dropping in like this," he says as he opens the door. "I have a life, you know."
It's one o'clock and he's in a bathrobe.
I go inside. "Yes, I apologize. I wouldn't do this if it weren't an emergency."
"Someone better be dying because I was in the middle of—"
"Jack, get your ass up here and untie me," I hear Martha yell from upstairs.
He sighs. "You have horrible timing, Pearce."
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you and Martha were—"
"Wait here." He goes up the stairs.
"Jack, are you coming?" Martha yells.
"Yes, but that idiot, Pearce, is here," he yells back.
This is embarrassing. For me, not for Jack. Nothing embarrasses him. It's the middle of a work day. Doesn't he need to be at the office?
Five minutes later he appears in his suit and tie and walks right past me. I just follow him like I always do, and we go to his hidden room.
"For future reference, I regularly schedule a little afternoon delight," he says, pouring himself a drink. "It's best not to stop by at this hour of the day." He takes a seat across from me. "So what the hell is the big emergency? Did you get a new assignment?"
"No. My father went to visit Rachel and told her I'd been lying to her."
Jack leans forward, almost spilling the drink in his hand. "He told her about Dunamis?"
"No. He told her some other things, one of which was that you and I are friends."
"Who did she think I was?"
"After you stopped by her apartment that night, I told her I had you investigated and found that you were just a wealthy old man who wasn't all there, mentally."
"All true." He swigs his drink.
"Perhaps, but it's not the whole truth. I acted like I didn't know you. It doesn't matter. The point is that she knows I lied to her on multiple occasions. She stormed out of the loft, saying she needs to think about what she's going to do."
"You think she'll divorce you?"
"I don't know, but I can't let that happen. I love her, Jack, and I can't live without her."
"What about Rachel?" He leans back, putting his feet up on the chair next to him. "Does she love you enough to forgive you?"
"Yes. At least I think she does. She has a big heart. She's very forgiving, maybe too much so."
"Meaning she shouldn't forgive your lying ass?"
"Yes." I pause, not wanting to admit this out loud.
"What is it, Pearce?"
"Maybe it's best if she didn't forgive me. Maybe if she didn't…she'd be safe. I worry about her, Jack. I worry what they might do." I burst up from the chair. "Fuck! What the fuck have I done? Why did I get her involved in this?"
"Because you were thinking with your heart instead of your head." He takes a drink. "Sit down."
I drop back in the chair, holding my face in my hands. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, but I also don't want to put her in danger. I thought I could protect her, but what if I can't?"
"It's a shitty world out there, Pearce. A pretty young woman like her? She'd be in danger whether she was with you or not."
"This is different. They could be planning something and I don't even know it."
"If you divorce her, they still might come after her."
"Why?" I look at him. "Why would they do that?"
He shrugs. "If they think you confided in her about Dunamis, or anything related to it, they'll kill her. And that'll be much easier to do if she's not married to you. If she's not your wife, she's a nobody. It's easy to get rid of a nobody. So as fucked up as it sounds, she might be safer with you than without you."
I hadn't thought about that, but it might be true.
"What do you want to do, Pearce?"
"I want to tell her the truth. I'm sick of lying to her. I want her to know the truth."
"Well, that's not an option, so what other ideas do you have?"
"I need to tell her something. I can't keep coming up with excuses every time I have to do something for Dunamis. We're only a few months into our relationship and I'm already running out of lies."
Jack gets up and goes back to the bar to refill his drink.
"Jack, why were you willing to help me be with Rachel? You knew it wasn't allowed and yet you still agreed to help me."
"Because I'm tired of them fucking with people's lives. As I've told you before, they own us. We have no freedom. We have all this goddamn money, but for what? To give up our lives? Our freedom? To some power-hungry pricks who think they should rule the world?"
"What does that have to do with Rachel?"
He sits down again, looking at me from across the table. "You've had a shitty life, Pearce. The other members may complain about their childhoods, saying they weren't allowed to do this or that, but their problems are nothing compared to what you've had to put up with. Your father is a monster. I've watched how he's treated you over the years. Even when you were just a young boy, your father made your life hell. He punished you for just being a child. I remember being at your house when you were maybe four or five and you forgot to take your shoes off after coming in from outside. You got dirt on the tile and he screamed at you as if you'd just burnt the house down. He called you stupid and worthless and he almost…" He clears his throat. "Let's just say that I was never invited back to the house after that."
"Because you said something to him?"
He chuckles. "I did more than that. I punched him. He was so shocked he didn't even punc
h me back. He just kicked me out of his house and didn't allow me back until he was forced to years later for a Dunamis party he was hosting. I'm sure some people would say that I shouldn't have interfered like that, but I had to. I've done plenty of bad shit in my life, but I would never hurt a child or talk that way to a child, and I couldn't just stand there and let him treat you that way."
"I don't remember that incident." I take a poker chip from the table, holding it between my finger and thumb and tapping it on the table. I'm not comfortable talking about my childhood, and I didn't know Jack knew about it. His fight with my father explains why I didn't see Jack much when I was growing up. My parents had other members over for dinner, but not Jack. I'd only see him at parties or other social gatherings.
"You were probably too young to remember," he says. "Holton almost hit you that day, and he would have if I hadn't stopped him. Later, I met with your mother and told her what happened. She said he hadn't hit you before, at least not that she was aware of, and she told me she would never allow it to happen. And as far as I know, it didn't. Or did it?"
I keep my eyes on the poker chip. "Once. When I was older. But afterward, my mother wouldn't speak to him so he never did it again."
"He still treated you like shit. I bet that man's never said one nice thing to you, has he?"
I slam the poker chip down. "Are you making a point here, or do you just feel the need to remind me how much my father hates me?"
He takes a deep breath. "My point is that you deserve a better life, Pearce."
"Yes, well, don't we all?"
"True, but some of us have it better than others. I'm chained to Dunamis, but I still have Martha and the girls. And look at Arlin Sinclair. His wife, Grace, is the love of his life. Royce is a fuck-up, but their other son, William, is a good kid. What I'm saying is that the only happiness in our lives comes from our families, and I wanted you to have that type of happiness. I could see how happy you were with Rachel, but I realize now that I should've worked harder to keep you away from her."
"You just told me you wanted me to be with her."
"No. I told you I wanted you to have some happiness in your life, which you would've had if I'd been able to find you the right wife. One who was approved, but who you might actually grow to love. But then you went and married Rachel. I knew about that, by the way. I tracked you all the way to Vegas. Knew you were getting married. What chapel you went to. The hotel you stayed at. All of it."
"You were spying on me? Then why didn't you stop me?"
"First of all, I make surveillance equipment. Of course I spy on you. I spy on everyone. And as for Vegas, I was torn. I wanted to stop you, and I almost did, but then I couldn't do it. At the time, your father was actively looking to set you up with a woman you would hate. He knew there were better options, but he wanted to find the woman who would make you the most miserable. If you hadn't married Rachel, you would've ended up with whoever he picked."
"And now you're telling me to stay with Rachel."
"That's up to you. We don't know if she'll even take you back. But if she does, then maybe we can find a way out of this."
"Out of what?"
"Your obligation to be part of the organization."
"What are you talking about it? I can't get out of it."
He takes a drink. "I hate the word 'can't.' It's so limiting. A dead end. It means you're giving up. I don't even let my employees say it." He swishes his whiskey around in his glass. "I'm making you my project, Pearce. I want to try to get you out of this. I don't know how, but I'm going to try."
"Doing so could get you killed."
"A lot of things could get me killed. And don't get too excited about this. It may take ten years, or twenty, or hell, I could die before it happens. But I'm still going to try."
"When did you decide to do this?"
"When you showed up at my door just now. You looked like hell. You still do. You look even worse now than before you met Rachel. Back then you were walking through life in a coma, but at least you had a flicker of light in your eyes. Now there's nothing there. Like you've given up all hope."
"Because I honestly don't know what to do. Not just about this fight Rachel and I are having, but about our relationship in general. She doesn't know me, Jack. Not all of me. She's married to someone she doesn't really know. She says she loves me, but the truth is she only loves part of me."
"Bullshit. The part she doesn't know isn't you. It's them. It's the organization and what they make you do. It's your father and the ideas he's put in your head. Rachel knows the real you. She knows you, the person. Not what you've done. She doesn't need to know what you've done because it's not you. If you were free from Dunamis, would you be going around killing people?"
"No. Of course not."
"I wouldn't either. Most of us wouldn't. But too many of us get caught up in thinking that we are what we do, even if we're forced to do those things."
"I can't keep lying to her, Jack. You told me I wouldn't be able to keep this a secret and you were right. It's impossible."
"It's not impossible. We have several members who have never told their wives. Jacobson's wife doesn't know. Her family isn't part of Dunamis. She was only approved to be his wife because we didn't have anyone else to set him up with. But we picked her because she fits in our world. She's extremely wealthy and is one of those wives who pays no attention to what her husband is doing."
"Rachel will notice. I can't hide this from her."
"I feel like we're talking in circles here. Just make a damn decision. What are you going to do?"
"I'm telling her the truth. Not the real truth, but a version of the truth. I'm going to admit that sometimes I can't be honest with her. I'll tell her I'm involved with something dangerous and I need to keep her out of it."
"If you tell her that, she'll be calling a divorce attorney."
"Maybe if I say it right she'll understand."
"Get your fucking head on straight, Pearce. The woman's not going to take you back if you tell her you're going to continue lying to her AND that you're involved in dangerous activities."
I sigh. "Then I either have to let her go or keep lying to her."
"So what's it going to be?"
I shake my head. "I can't let her go. I'll have to find a way to make this work. I'll just have to live a double life. Completely separate the Dunamis side of my life with the life I have with Rachel."
"You're finally thinking right. That's exactly what you need to do. It's just like I tell you to do with assignments. You need to separate yourself from your actions. It's not you. It's someone else. When you lie to her, it's that other side of you doing it. It's not you. If you weren't a member, you wouldn't lie to her, would you? I mean, besides the normal husband lies, like hiding the fact that you ate a pound of bacon for breakfast instead of whatever health food shit she tries to get you to eat."
I smile. "No. I wouldn't lie to her. Not even about the bacon."
"Then stop beating yourself up over this. You didn't ask to be part of the organization, but since you're forced to be, you have no choice but to lie. Accept that and move on. Live your life, but keep that part of your life separate. When you go home at night, don't think about it. I know that's not easy to do, but you have to in order to keep Rachel from suspecting anything. When you go home, you're her husband. A regular husband with a regular life. That's it. And when you have to lie to her about the other side of your life, you will believe the lie. Don't even let your mind think otherwise. If you do, she'll see right through you. And if you believe the lies yourself, it'll be easier to separate that side of your life from the other side." He stands up. "You think you can do that?"
"Yes. It won't be easy but it's my only option." I stand up and he walks me to the door. "Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice. I'm sorry to interrupt your day."
"No problem. But next time," he winks, "don't stop by in the afternoon."
"Agreed." I smile. "I'll se
e myself out. Goodbye, Jack."
I leave his house and get back in my car, not sure where I'm going. I keep thinking about what he said about getting me out of the organization. Is it really possible? Or did he just say that to make me feel better?
I like Jack. I really do. But as much as I like him, I know I can't trust him. I want to, but I can't. He has no reason to help me. I'm not his son. Of course, given that Jack's had sex with my mother, it could've been a possibility, but I know I'm not his son because I look just like my father.
Jack hates my father, so is that why he wants to help me? To anger my father? Or does he really feel sorry for me? I don't want Jack feeling sorry for me. I don't need his pity and I don't need him telling me about my childhood. I survived those years and I am stronger because of it.
I stop at a traffic light and realize I'm just down the street from Rachel's apartment. I don't even remember driving here, but I ended up here so obviously it's where I want to be. I have to see her. I need to tell her as much as I can, then hope she'll still want to be with me.
I park on the street and go in her building and up the stairs. I can hear her TV on.
"Rachel." I knock on the door. "Rachel, it's Pearce." I knock again, but there's no answer. I know she's in there. I can hear her walking around. "Rachel, I need to talk to you." I wait, but she still doesn't answer. "Rachel, please."
The volume on the TV goes up. So she won't talk to me. She doesn't even want to see me.
I sigh and drop my head, staring at the ratty green carpet that lines the hallway. I can't stand the thought of her staying here tonight, but if she's not even talking to me, then she definitely won't be coming back to the loft.
Shelby's door swings open and she comes out of her apartment wearing pink sweatpants and a black leather jacket, her blond hair in a ponytail.
"Hey." She locks her door. "She doesn't want to talk to you."
"Have you spoken with her?"
"Yeah." Shelby takes off down the stairs.
"Wait." I follow her, but she doesn't stop until she reaches the landing. "What did she say?"
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