He jammed his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. After checking the address again, he fished his phone from his jeans and pulled up the map application. Locating the building on the screen, he saw he had three more blocks, then a left turn before he’d be on the same street as the man living life with many dirty secrets.
A low growl rumbled through his body. He couldn’t wait to expose him, but he mostly just wanted to see him for himself, getting a good look at what weighed heavily on his heart.
The closer he came to the address, the heavier his footfalls felt. His body ached, the betrayal making him want to choke the life out of everything in his path.
He stopped.
There it was…
A bookstore, looking innocent, not realizing a wave was about to crash through. He had to chuckle a little at the very cozy look about it, knowing that would soon end.
The deep green accents popped against the golden wood trim. The two arched windows flanking the entrance added a bit of whimsy with all the books stacked up, tantalizing passersby.
He got a glimpse of the man behind the counter. Then a woman sidled up to it, chatting as if today were like any other.
That would soon change.
Just before he walked inside, he had a moment of fear, followed by sadness. In a blink, anger took over, his body trembling. He grabbed the handle and whipped open the door, tiny bells chiming happily.
After a quick glance around, he stepped right up to the counter. He did nothing but stare. His angry gaze could set fire to this unknown world, leaving him not caring about the outcome.
But first, he wanted answers, violently taking them if they weren’t volunteered.
Chapter 54
After I returned to the UK, secure in the knowledge Elaina and Nicky were happy, I slept on Michelle’s couch for about six months before winding up in her bed. It was a blissful moment for the both of us, relieving the building sexual tension. It had been so long since I had sex, I was shocked I even got her to her personal paradise.
I found a job managing a department store, allowing me to share living expenses with her, but it was short-lived. A couple months in, I just couldn’t handle being in that type of relationship a minute longer. She was beautiful and perfect in every way, but I wasn’t dealing with it that well. It wasn’t that I wanted to take on an endless string of lovers. I just couldn’t be that man. The day in, day out bullshit.
I feared what would happen if I dove in head-first. I struggled with not falling into the same patterns I did with my ex-wife. The OCD lingered, rearing its ugly head when I put too much pressure on myself as I worked on the relationship with Michelle. I needed to make a change.
Another issue I had was I still loved Elaina. I spent years trying to ignore what I felt, wondering if it were Henry or me who loved her. In reality, it didn’t matter. My heart was the same, and I wasn’t so sure those feelings would ever cease. In fact, when I refused to bring my chaos back into her life, it meant that I loved her more than I realized.
I knew my love for her was unhealthy. While I would love her forever, I was obsessed with her…addicted to her. The best thing I did for her, Nicky, even myself was leaving.
Once I finally came to terms with my feelings, I confessed them to Michelle. She laughed, telling me she knew it all along, even when I adamantly denied it. She understood I might never be able to immerse myself fully into our relationship, content with what I could give her.
Elaina had moved on, and I needed to do the same.
We decided living on my own for a while was what I needed to get my head sorted and figure out my life. While I still grieved the loss of my mother, wife, and son, not to mention the family who lived next door to them, I needed space and time to adjust to this new person I had become.
After I moved just a couple flats down, Michelle and I talked every day. She would call me nightly to check in and make sure I was well. We would chat about anything and everything until we went to bed. Sometimes, we even ate dinner together while on the phone. Occasionally, she would spend the weekend with me. I suppose we were friends with benefits. It worked for us and we became much closer, happy with our unconventional relationship.
Doing my best to live simply, only indulging when Michelle and I occasionally went out to a nice meal, I stashed money away until about ten years ago.
Michelle had returned to her position at the Hospital for Tropical Diseases. I watched her emotional state wither away every time she lost a long-term patient. Unable to see her so stressed another minute, I talked her into quitting.
I held her for hours as she cried. I couldn’t stand to watch her feel pain like that. Because she had always put her patients first, I told her it was time she did something for herself, to find her complete happiness, and I was going to be there for her. I owed her that much.
While lying in bed next to her one evening, I had a brilliant idea. She had once mentioned her dream of books surrounding her, the stories taking her to fantasy worlds, getting away from the everyday stagnation and daily disappointments.
She read on her e-Reader, but loved holding a book in her hands. Physical copies became so hard to find since everything had turned to digital. Small publishing houses and imprints were closing left and right, a few larger ones downsizing, dwindling the market. Readers held their personal libraries close to their hearts in fear they would never be able to purchase a book again.
Liking a good challenge, I told her we should open a bookstore.
Both of us were avid readers. My love for the written word stemmed from having to educate myself. I also did well managing expenses with the blood bank, then Edge. Her personality and love for people would be an easy sell to the public. It was something we knew we could accomplish. It would give her something to do. As for me, I would be able to focus on something I loved, instead of the daily conundrums of my dead-end retail management job.
For the first time in ages, Michelle and I were ecstatic. A month later, I purchased a three-story building in London, converting the upper levels into two flats and a gym for us, the lower level into a cozy bookshop with little reading nooks filled with comfortable furniture, the lighting perfect for enjoying a book. The unique, eclectic environment would surely be a draw.
With the digital age eating the human population alive, we were the only bookshop in London and the surrounding area. We placed ads on popular websites, hitting it big. Publishing companies had stock left after closing their doors and they wanted to sell it to us. Readers even donated books to our shop.
From day one, people roamed our aisles, searched our shelves, hungry to hold a book in their hands again. I was quite astounded some of the younger generation had never done so.
We found a need and filled it, just as Gunther and I had done with Edge.
The days, weeks, and months carried on. The routine of a life we built ourselves pleasantly distracting me from my deepest regret—leaving my family behind.
Michelle encouraged me to contact them, her urging becoming demanding at times. The poor bird tried, but I had it set in my mind they were much better off without me, regardless of the improvements and strides I had made. I didn’t need anything else pulling my focus away from improving our relationship and the store.
On delivery day, Michelle worked in the storeroom, putting books on a cart to shelve, as I logged in the new inventory at the front counter. The melodic chimes rattled against the glass of the door as it opened every few minutes, floorboards creaking as customers walked around. The giggles, the mumblings, the debates… All sounds I enjoyed.
In between cashing out customers, I busted my ass, hoping to get everything finished before we closed up for the evening. Michelle and I actually had a real date planned. It was just dinner and a film, but her excitement would make it a great night.
She came storming out of the back hall and leaned against the counter. “Luke, I need you.”
“Don’t they all…” I looked up
at her and smirked.
“Pig.”
“Oink.”
She laughed. “Once you get past your ego, the delivery driver left the boxes stacked up in front of the door out back.”
“Perfect.” I shook my head.
“I can’t even open the bloody thing.”
“I’m going to have to call them. This is the third time that’s happened. I’ll find another company if this shit doesn’t stop. Give me a moment, then I’ll go around and move them.”
Michelle’s gaze went past me, smiling. “Is there something we can help you with?” she asked in a chipper tone.
I looked up to see a young man staring at me. Chest clenching, I knew who he was the moment I laid eyes on him.
He had his mother’s looks and my build, but his eyes, crystal blue, were mine…and Roger’s.
I had no idea what to say or do. To be frank, I was terrified. “Close the store, ’Chelle,” I managed through the dryness in my throat.
She gasped. “What?”
In a low, harsh whisper, I said, “Michelle, close the fucking store. Please, just do as I ask.”
“Okay… Whatever you need me to do.”
I walked from behind the counter and up to him. He had at least two inches on me. His hard glare pierced through my body, looking deep into my soul. I hoped he wouldn’t be able to see the darkness inside.
Elaina’s scream the night she found the corpse of the innocent man against the side of the shed echoed in my mind. Sweat beaded on my neck and trickled its way down my spine. So many emotions flowed through my body. I didn’t know where to begin or where it would end.
“Why?” he asked, his voice smooth, just like his namesake’s.
“Nicky…,” I whispered, trailing off, not knowing what to say.
“Don’t.” He pointed at me, his finger driving into my chest. “You don’t get to do that. I want answers.”
“Let’s go to my office in the back so we can chat like grown men.”
He leaned in, standing toe-to-toe with me, pushing me back just enough. “You don’t want everyone to hear your dirty secrets, Henry Daniels?” The cold tone in his voice changed to something darker, more venomous, but I was certain I could keep him calm if I stayed calm myself.
“I’ll give you all the answers you want and deserve if we go about this in a proper manner.” I spun away, giving him no choice but to follow.
I headed down the dark hall to my office door, waving Nicky in when I opened it. When I shut it behind me, he grabbed me by the shirt and slammed me into the door, rattling it on its hinges. He stared right into my eyes, his anger as clear as the tension forming between us.
“Now, tell me why, you motherfucker.”
“First, calm down. Second, take a seat.”
“I don’t have to do shit, Pops.”
“If you want answers, that’s the only way you will get them. Have I made myself clear?”
He stared at me for a long moment. “Fine.” He let go of me and dropped into the chair opposite the loveseat.
As I sat, he watched my every move. The trust issues he exhibited were understandable. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, steepling my hands in front of my mouth. We stared at one another—one man with a sordid history, the other only beginning his journey, facing the devastation only his biological father could give.
“Does your mother know you’re here?”
“No. She thinks I had a direct flight to Paris to meet up with someone. I had zero intentions of going there, though. I needed to find out the truth.”
“I get you…”
He dug into his jacket. For a moment, I worried he was armed, but I shoved that aside. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper, his hands shaking as he held it out. “Mom told me about your past…your names and such. She even allowed me to read your journals.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, knowing he had knowledge of all the horrid things I had done and had done to me.
“I did a quick search online. Imagine my surprise when I found this gem.”
I reached out and accepted the paper. My hands trembled as I unfolded it. I rubbed my temples as I stared down at the image…a photo of Michelle and me in front of our shop on opening day. The local press posted an article on their site about us and our desire to get tangible books back into people’s hands. I knew posing for a picture wasn’t a good idea and told Michelle that, but she insisted, saying it would be great for business to see an average couple trying to make a change in our society.
I looked up at him. “Did you show this to your mother?”
“No.” He leaned forward in the chair and snatched the printout from my hands. “I want to know what awful thing we did for you to put us through something so terrible.”
“Nothing. You’re all innocent. All this…” I gestured toward him. “All your raw emotions and anger are on me.” Nicky nodded and pulled his lips into his mouth; however, pure ire still ruled his features. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Depends on your answers.”
“What do you want to know? I was sick, my physical and mental health declining. After Erik, the head scientist, approached with a possible cure, I went back to the East End. The doctor and scientists discovered I was close to death, like weeks or even days away.”
I watched a muscle tick in his jaw as he contemplated my answer.
The door opened and Michelle peeked in. I waved to the seat next to me. As she took her place by my side, she said, “We’re all set. All we have to do is go around, move boxes, then finish logging in the inventory.”
“Thanks,” I said, keeping my gaze locked on Nicky, who stared at her, as if he were trying to figure her out.
I nodded at her. “Michelle Fogerty…” She held out her hand. Time ticked by at a pace lulling us near nonexistence. Finally, he reached out and took her hand for a split second.
“Nick Jarvis.”
I startled. “What?”
“Did I stutter? I said Nick Jarvis. When Mom married Will, he adopted me.” I had to look away, swallowing the swell of emotions rising in my throat. “I’m going to assume you two are married.”
I cast a quick glance at her. She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and began rambling. “No. We’re great friends and business partners. I mean… We’re a couple, just not in the traditional sense. We are boyfriend and girlfriend, both monogamous. We do live together…sort of. We each have a flat in this building. The occasional overnight visit happens…”
I looked at her with a raised brow. “I’m sure he doesn’t need to know all that.”
“I’m sorry… I’m just nervous,” she whispered.
“Actually, I want to hear everything so I can understand why you are sitting here and not at home.”
“How’s Gunther?”
“The G-man is good.”
Sounded like he had a good rapport with him. “Cora? The kids?”
“They’ve married and have been happy for a long time. Everybody’s fine.”
“Good.” I nodded, pleased to hear Gunther and his family were doing well. “What did your mother tell you about me? I can fill in any gaps.”
“That you were sick with the undead virus. That your father abused you as a child. That you had OCD, were an alcoholic, a manipulator. You…” His voice caught in his throat. He stared at me, unmistakable pain in his eyes, fighting with everything he had not to allow the emotions to bleed through with his words. I was all too familiar with that. “You were forced to rape a girl at gunpoint.” Then he growled, “And you sexually assaulted my mother.”
I hung my head. Hearing all that made me want to run. Thankfully, I had already confessed everything to Michelle.
She slipped her hand between my body and arm, taking my hand. Clearing her throat, she began, “Nick… Maybe we should—”
“No, ’Chelle,” I said, stopping her. “Let him finish. He needs to get this out.” I looked up at him and nodded for him to continue.
“You lied about a lot of things before you were supposed to marry Mom, the day Gunther set the virus free. She said you killed people, but also did many things to keep her and the others safe.” He dropped his head into his hands, then whispered, “I fear that side of me. The DNA in my makeup… I’m terrified of it.”
“Nicky, look at me.” He picked his head up and stared into my eyes. “Yeah, son, I did all those things. I am all those things. I am everything you hate about me and everything you fear could be lurking behind the dark recesses of your mind. I did what I had to do to protect your mother and our community. Yes, I killed people. We were in a kill or be killed, survival of the fittest situation. I fought fucking hard to keep everybody alive. When my father took your mum, I had one thought in mind. Kill him or die trying, but I wasn’t about to let him win. I killed everyone in that field, but I also lost people. People whom I loved. People whom Gunther loved. At one point, I had to stop him from killing himself.
“When I came face-to-face with my father, I realized one thing. He wasn’t the god he thought he was. When I put that bullet into his head, he died just like the rest of us would. If I didn’t get there when I did, he would’ve raped your mother. He raped my mother for years.”
He leaned forward. “You assaulted my mother! You are no different than he was!”
God, even though he was one hundred percent correct, that hurt. However, I was now the man I should’ve been then.
“Don’t think for one moment I’m proud of everything I’ve done. That was the lowest moment in my life. I hurt the woman I loved, the mother of my perfect son.” I jabbed my thumb into my chest. “I hurt my mother. I became everything she had experienced with my father. It destroyed everyone. How your mother ever let me back in her bed…” I shook my head. “I will say it again. I was sick. The virus attacked my brain, making me do things I couldn’t control.”
“And you’re not sick anymore?”
Full Circle (Shattered Lives, Book Five) Page 38