“Who?” I ask.
“You will meet him soon enough. He’s the one who started it all. Would you like to see some of the work that’s being done here? Work you would have been a part of if you didn’t have a greater purpose?”
I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not. Anything is better than sitting in this room with nothing to do but think.
“Yes.”
“Come, then.” He stands and beckons for me to follow. Before he opens the door, he stops and turns around.
“Don’t think of trying anything stupid. Talk to no one. Just follow me.”
I nod.
No one is in the hallway, and I follow him down the empty corridor until we reach a small elevator. He inserts a key, and the door opens. He waits for me to enter and then joins me in the small space, his breath so close that I want to hold mine to avoid breathing any air he has exhaled. Then I remember he has already contaminated me, and my stomach turns.
The elevator doors open, and I follow him again, this time to a room with a large window into a classroom with a two-way mirror from which we can watch those in the other room undetected. He sits down without a word, and I take the empty chair next to him.
The children are sitting in rows, both feet on the floor, hands folded, and eyes on the teacher at the front of the room. They are elementary-aged, maybe third or fourth grade. Their teacher is scowling at a student standing in front of her and holds the bunched-up fabric of his shirt in her hand. I want to go through the glass and pull him away from her. He looks terrified, and his small hands are bunched into fists.
“Can anyone tell me what Matthew has done wrong?” the teacher asks.
No one raises a hand.
She lets go of his shirt, then pushes him, and he falls to the floor. “He gave his answers to someone. That’s what. Why is that wrong?”
A little girl holds up her hand. “Because it’s cheating?” It comes out as a squeak.
The teacher walks over and puts her face inches from the child’s. She mimics her. “Because it’s cheating?” She yanks hard on the girl’s pigtail. She straightens, then raises her voice. “No! Not because it’s cheating. Anyone else?”
A few hands shoot up.
She points. “Malcolm, how about you?”
“Because he got caught?”
“Exactly. Good job.” She hands Malcolm a candy bar.
“Only stupid, careless children get caught. Sometimes in life, cheating is necessary. But if you’re going to break the rules, you make sure to cover your tracks.” She walks back over to Matthew. “Get up. Go back to your seat and don’t ever let me catch you again.” She turns to the class. “What is the cardinal rule?”
“Don’t get caught,” they answer in unison.
“Very good. Now it’s time for musical chairs. No lunch for the loser.”
“What is this? Why is she so horrible to the children?” Outrage has turned my voice shrill, and my face is hot.
He sneers at me. “What you see as horrible, I see as necessary. These children don’t need coddling. They are going to be extraordinary leaders one day. They need to learn life’s lessons early.”
“What lessons? That adults have the right to abuse children? That lying and cheating is good? I would have never agreed to be a part of any of this.”
He shakes his head. “This wasn’t part of your training. I show you this to give you a complete picture of the empire my child will one day inherit. These children are lucky. Where else would a group of orphans have the opportunity to be educated by the brilliant minds here at the Institute? And what other orphans are being molded into adults who will have impeccable pedigrees and be groomed for positions of untold wealth and power? But first they need discipline and direction.”
“Where did they come from?”
He laughs. “They are brought to me. They are throwaways, disposed of by irresponsible garbage not fit to be called parents. Without us, they would be nothing. One day, these children will be judges, politicians, business magnates.”
I see where he is going with this. “And you will pull their puppet strings.”
“The others coming through here, others like you, we recruit from the top universities. They are all vetted and solidly indoctrinated before they reach this advanced phase of the program. But there is something to be said for getting them while they’re young.”
He stands. “Just think how much more my own flesh and blood will be capable of.”
I cannot speak. Images flood my mind of my child being raised in this hellhole, and I gasp for breath and double over. The prospect is unbearable. I must find a way to escape. Surely even death is preferable to the fate that awaits my child.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jack saw Taylor to the bedroom and got her settled under the covers.
“Has it stopped?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Lie on your left side. Hopefully you’re only spotting. We’re going to have to lay low for a few days. You should stay off your feet.”
She stared at him. “Since when did you go to medical school?”
He looked at the floor. “Dakota started spotting in her third month, but it passed.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll be in the next room. Yell if you need anything.”
She closed her eyes. Hearing Dakota’s name, it all came rushing back. She recalled the day she found out that Jack had betrayed her. Evelyn had been waiting for her when she got home that day for school break. She’d given Taylor a long hug.
“How was the traffic?”
“Easy drive. No problem. Dad home?”
“Not yet. Let’s go into the kitchen. I’ll make some tea.”
She patted Taylor on the shoulder when they got to the kitchen. “Taylor, sit down. I have something to tell you.”
“What’s wrong? Is my father okay?”
“Yes, it’s something else. Sit.” She took a deep breath.
Taylor pulled out the chair and sat down—and waited.
“It’s about Jack,” Evelyn finally said.
“What about him?” Taylor asked in a shaking voice.
“There’s no easy way to say it. He got married.”
Taylor shot up from her seat. “What? What are you talking about? What do you mean he got married?” She could barely speak. “We’re supposed to get together this weekend.”
Evelyn answered with exaggerated calmness. “I know it’s a terrible shock. His mother is very upset as well. She got the call last night. He met her last month apparently. They ran off to Las Vegas and eloped. I’m so sorry, Taylor.”
Taylor ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Sinking to her knees, she vomited in the toilet. Sweat broke out on her face, and falling back against the wall, she hugged herself, and wailed. How could this have happened? Jack, oh Jack, how could you do this? She stayed that way for a long time.
Eventually, she found the strength to stand up, and when she did, she ran from the house and got into her car, with no idea of where she was going; she needed to move. In a haze, she drove down Connecticut Avenue, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of it. This wasn’t just some random boyfriend—this was Jack. He knew everything about her and loved her anyway—or so she had thought. They had nursed each other through all of life’s bumps, knew all the family skeletons, commiserated over every challenge, every rejection, every hardship. How could he do this to her? And who was the woman? His wife! It was impossible. She would go to New York and confront him. He owed her an explanation at least.
She didn’t know how fast she was going, but before she knew it, she was in front of his apartment building. His Mustang was there. She ran up the three flights and pounded on the door, her face hot, her heart hammering. The door opened and a creature with flame-red hair and icy-blue eyes stood there, coolly appraising her.
“Can I help you?” Her voice was husky.
“Wher
e’s Jack?”
She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “And who are you?”
Taylor pushed her way into the apartment. “I’m his girlfriend. Jack!” she yelled.
The woman’s manner was infuriatingly calm. “He can’t hear you, Taylor.” She drew her name out, mocking her. “My husband is in the shower.”
Taylor spun around and glared at her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, and the room began to spin. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself while the woman continued to stare at her.
“I think you’d better leave.”
Taylor ran past her without another word, got in her car, and gunned it. She cried the whole way back to BU.
The rest of the semester was torture. Visions of Jack with Dakota taunted her every waking hour. She imagined them in bed. Her hands everywhere Taylor’s should be. His lips on her mouth; their bodies intertwined. It was unbearable. The worst betrayal of all was that he hadn’t even told her himself, just discarded her like a broken toy, unwanted and forgotten. It was beyond her comprehension. She tried to throw herself into her studies, but concentration eluded her, and she failed all her courses. When she returned home for summer break her father was furious. The confrontation took her by surprise. She had never seen him so angry.
He stood in the marble foyer, waiting for her to come inside. In his hands was a letter.
“What were you thinking? Did you even attend one class? Do you realize you’ve put your entire future in jeopardy?”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the vein throbbing in his forehead. Mumbling a quiet, “I’m sorry,” she tried to walk past him.
He stepped in front of her, blocking her. “Not so fast, young lady. I’m not finished. Come in to my study. We are going to talk about this.”
She walked behind him, with her head down, and slunk into the chair across from his desk.
“Taylor, look at me.”
She lifted her head.
“One more semester! One more and you let yourself go from dean’s list to this.” His voice rose with each word. He threw the paper on the desk.
“I tried, Dad. I did the best I could. All I did was study.”
“Thirty thousand dollars! I may as well have thrown it in the trash.”
Taylor’s eyes filled, and she turned her head.
His tone softened. “Taylor, listen to me. I’m sorry you’re hurt, and I wish I could make it all better.” His brows knit together in a scowl and he stood up. “Frankly, I’d like to kill him!” He slammed a fist onto the desk, and Taylor jumped. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, lifting her chin with his other hand so she would meet his eyes. His finger traced the hollow of her cheek.
“You’ve lost so much weight. My dear, you have to move on. Jack has his own life and you need to make yours too. I’ve spoken to the dean and he’s willing to let you come back next semester.”
“I don’t—”
“Stop. You will go back and by the fall you’ll be ready.”
“What if I can’t do it?” She felt like she’d never be herself again.
He pursed his lips. “You will.” He looked up at a noise at the door, and Evelyn came in holding a brochure.
“Here.” She pushed it into Taylor’s hand. “Your father and I were thinking that a nice trip to Europe would do you a world of good. You can go to Italy, Spain, and then spend a month in Greece, on your mother’s island. Ikaria? Isn’t that it?”
At the mention of her mother, a fresh wave of grief enveloped her.
She handed the brochure back to Evelyn. “Thanks, but I don’t think a trip to Europe is what I need.”
The next day she paid a visit to her old parish priest. She hadn’t seen him since her mother’s funeral, but he greeted her warmly, as if no time had passed.
“So wonderful to see you, Theophaneli.” She hadn’t been called that since her mother died.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as they hugged. He motioned for her to sit on the love-seat in his office, and he took a seat facing her.
“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here after all this time.” Suddenly, she felt awkward and second-guessed her decision to come.
He raised his eyebrows and stroked his beard. “Why are you here?”
“Because everything’s a mess, and I don’t know what to do.” She began to cry.
“It’s okay, pethi mou, let it out,” he said, handing her a box of tissues.
“It’s the only place I could think to come.” Her lip trembled. “I miss her so much, Father.”
“She would be happy that you came here. She would tell you to turn to God.”
She felt the bite of anger rising in her. “Where was God when she was being raped and murdered?”
“Theophaneli, these are questions we wrestle with on this side of heaven. I don’t know why she had to suffer that way, but God did not abandon her. He was with her. We aren’t puppets. He gave us free will and that is a double-edged sword that the human race has been contending with since the fall of Adam and Eve.”
She was only half listening. She had heard it all before. Man’s fall. God’s grace. Good and evil co-existing in this hell we call earth. She didn’t like who she became when she contemplated such things, hated the cynicism that wound its way up from her core until she was thinking and saying things that sounded like someone else. She preferred to keep a lid on those feelings. So, what was she doing here? She sighed. She was trying to get close to her mother the only way she knew how. Her mother had loved this church, spent countless Sundays worshipping, and nights and weekends on committees to raise money for the various charities the church supported.
“Father, I was wondering if the foundation my mother started to support SOS Children’s Village has already taken its annual trip to Greece.”
Taylor had gone there with her mother when she was ten. She still recalled her excited chatter on the plane. Her mother had warned her that this was not their usual vacation to Greece, had tried to prepare her for what they were in store for. She had been shocked to learn that there were so many children with no parents or family to look out for them. That was the summer she grew up and was awakened to the world outside their privileged enclave in Chevy Chase. She had wanted to bring all her new friends home with her, share her things with them. She and her mother had spent eight weeks there. From that point forward, Taylor had earmarked half of her allowance to send to the children without families in Greece.
Father Ted shook his head. “Not yet. As a matter of fact, there’s a meeting Tuesday night to finalize the group. Why do you ask?”
She knew what she had to do. “Because I want to go too. Is there room?”
He smiled.
“Of course, pethi mou. We would love to have you.”
Taylor opened her eyes and took long, deep breaths. She would not lose this baby. No matter what Malcolm had done or what was waiting for them when they found Jeremy, she would protect this child.
Beau approached the bed whining softly, and rested his head on Taylor’s stomach. She stroked his silky head. He looked up at her adoringly, his luminous, brown eyes on her. He was her golden child, and she loved him without reservation. If only he were enough. Beau stretched out on the hardwood floor next to the bed to take up his watch over her and her unborn child. She closed her eyes and waited for the blessed escape of sleep.
* * *
Evening had fallen and Taylor dozed on. Jack’s nerves were frayed—he had to do something. There was no way he would be responsible for another baby dying. He had to get her checked out before they hit the road again. Think, think. He flipped open the burner cell and punched in the eleven numbers. It was answered on the first ring.
“Hit it.”
“It’s Logan. Thanks for the set up.”
“What’s up?”
“I need a doc—obstetrician. Can you send someone ASAP?”
There was a brief silence. “Soones
t will be tomorrow. I’ll see who I can find in the area.”
“Thanks.” Jack hung up and went in to the bedroom to check on Taylor.
Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his footsteps. “What am I going to do?”
“We’re going to get you looked at to make sure everything is okay. I’ve called a buddy about getting a doctor here. He’ll be here tomorrow. In the meantime, you need to stay off your feet.”
“Can you feed Beau and take him out?”
“Of course.” He squatted to the dog’s level. “Come here buddy.” Beau was so reluctant to leave Taylor’s side, she had to coax him to go with Jack.
“It’s okay. Go ahead,” she said.
The golden retriever ambled over to Jack and looked back at Taylor.
Jack smiled. “Good boy. Let’s let your mom get some rest, and you and I will take care of business.”
After Beau finished, Jack grabbed a Coors from the refrigerator and sat down. If it weren’t for the fact that they were on the run, this could be a nice little slice of domesticity. How great it would be if they were here on a little get-away, if he hadn’t screwed everything up.
He downed a couple more beers while sitting and remembering, and finally, when his thoughts started turning maudlin, he switched off the lamp and got up.
“Let’s go check on her,” he said to Beau and tiptoed into the bedroom. The light from the hallway was bright enough for him to see that she looked like she was sleeping. He was about to turn and go to his room when she spoke.
“What time is it?”
“Almost ten. Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I’ve been lying here for a while, just worrying.”
He didn’t know what to say and finally came up with, “You should probably try to rest.”
She flicked on the lamp on the nightstand and sat up, propping a pillow behind her. “Can you sit with me for a little?”
He sat down in the chair by the bed before she could change her mind.
“I’ve been thinking about this baby, wondering how I’m going to keep it safe. I always thought that was a simple thing, you know, that the hard part was getting here, after all the treatments and disappointments, that once I was pregnant, the hardest part was done.”
The Veritas Deception Page 9