Foreseen: Lex (The Four Book 2)

by Sloane Kennedy

  Foreseen: Lex

  The Four, Book 2

  Sloane Kennedy

  Contents

  Copyright

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Sloane Kennedy

  Foreseen is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by SK Publishing, LLC

  Published in the United States by SK Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Image: © Wander Aguiar

  Cover Design: © Cate Ashwood Designs

  Copyediting by Courtney Bassett

  ISBN:

  9798623010292

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Band-Aid

  Chanel

  Mickey Mouse

  Disney World

  The Rolling Stones

  Pac-Man

  Donkey Kong

  Uber

  Chapter One

  Lex

  The place was quiet, I had to give it that. Hell, quiet wasn’t even the right word. Silent didn’t quite fit either. Despite knowing the woods surrounding the cabin were teeming with life, the structure itself had a cold emptiness to it. It was… numb.

  Like you.

  I ignored my inner voice and searched out my phone. It took several long seconds of fumbling to get to the voice-to-text option. Frustration welled up inside of me as I faced yet more proof of what my life was becoming.

  Was becoming? Who was I kidding? I was already there.

  As tears pricked the backs of my eyes, I realized maybe I wasn’t quite as numb as I’d thought… or hoped.

  “Made it,” I said into the phone before hitting send. I could only hope the phone had translated the words correctly into the text message.

  I sighed when my phone rang just seconds later.

  “You’re late,” King said as soon as I answered. My brother wasn’t exactly known for his ability to make small talk.

  “Did you call just to tell me that?” I joked.

  King was silent for a beat before gruffly asking, “Where are you?”

  I sighed as I looked around what I presumed was the kitchen based on the various shapes I was able to make out. I felt around until I found a table and chairs and then sat down.

  “I don’t want to do this again, King,” I murmured. My brother and I had already had this same conversation on multiple occasions and all it did was break each of us a bit more. The solution was a simple one—I could just give in and tell my brother where I was, but it was the last thing I wanted to do. I hadn’t really been able to explain my reasoning to my overprotective big brother, mostly because I hadn’t really understood it myself. When King didn’t say anything, I softly added, “I need this.”

  “You need your family, Lex,” King interjected angrily. I heard a thud in the background. I knew exactly what the sound was.

  I closed my stinging eyes and ran my hand through my hair. “Go take care of your hand, big brother,” I said. “And remind me to get you a punching bag for every room of your house so you don’t keep putting holes in the walls.”

  “Lex,” King said quietly. The almost desperate way he said my name threatened to crumble my resolve.

  “Say hi to Luca and Con for me. And Vaughn too, if you can.” The mere mention of the rest of my family had my throat closing up tight. “I’m safe, King. I promise. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  I didn’t give King a chance to respond, mostly because I was on the verge of completely losing it. I hung up the phone, then turned it off altogether. I couldn’t help but wonder if King was already on the phone with one of his tech guys trying to track the disposable phone I was using. He’d promised me he wouldn’t, but I knew at some point his fear would overshadow his desire to respect my decisions. My other brother, Con, wouldn’t have been as patient—he’d probably been searching for me from the moment I’d stopped taking his calls.

  I couldn’t prevent the hot tears that began coasting down my cheeks as I thought about the men who’d been the only family I’d ever known.

  Definitely not numb.

  I wasn't sure how long I sat there for, but by the time there was a brief knock at the side door, the tears on my cheeks had dried and some of the emptiness I’d craved returned. When I opened my eyes, I could tell that the sun was starting to fall. I automatically glanced down at my phone, but it was more out of habit than anything else.

  There was another rap on the door and then it was opening.

  "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but it looks like we’re going to get hit with some nasty weather overnight and I want to make sure you’ve got enough logs to keep the fire going in case I can't get the generator up and running if the power goes out."

  The voice behind me faded out as the individual walked farther away, presumably to put away whatever logs he’d brought into the house. I fought back the agitation that went through me. Within a handful of seconds, I heard the footsteps again. I didn't dare look over my shoulder at the man because with the falling light, I’d have a hard time making out his shape. If that happened, I could end up giving away the truth about my condition since I wouldn’t be able to find the man to make eye contact with him.

  I waited until the steps sounded like they were right behind me before saying, "Mr. Parnell assured me when I rented this cabin that I wouldn't be disturbed."

  The silence that followed was thick and heavy and I felt like a jackass for being so outwardly rude. But I was still hurting from the conversation I'd had with King. As I waited for the man behind me to respond, something cold and wet brushed up against my fingers and I let out a little yelp.

  "Yeah, well, Mr. Parnell likes it when I send the tenants back home in one piece. Repeat business or something, I guess. But hey, if you want the wilderness experience by getting your own fires going and starting the generator if the power goes, have at it. Come on, Brewer, leave the nice man alone," the man said, his voice tripping over the word nice.

  The animal, which I could only assume was a very large, very hairy dog, licked my hands before its nails click-clacked across the linoleum. A moment later, the kitchen door slammed shut and there was nothing but silence once again. I breathed a sigh of relief. I fumbled with my phone long enough to get it turned back on and sent a quick email to the owner of the cabin. It felt strange and unnatural to use the voice-to-text option, but it wasn't like I had a lot of choic
es.

  I dictated a quick message reminding Mr. Parnell about my request to be left alone and then hit send. I'd never met the man, but I’d been in contact with him for the past several weeks as I'd arranged to rent out not only the one cabin, but all three located on the same acreage. The cabins were located deep within the north woods of Maine. The man had sent me countless pictures and a list of all the amenities that would make the remote location both private and comfortable, but obviously I hadn't been able to make use of any of that. When I’d heard that the cabin came with a caretaker, I’d told the owner I wouldn’t need any assistance, but clearly he'd either forgotten that particular part of our conversation or he thought I’d changed my mind.

  I hadn’t.

  I didn’t care what the cabin looked like or how comfortable it was. I only needed it for two things…to stay lost and to be left alone to say goodbye to the life I’d known.

  I forced myself to get up so I could start exploring my new environment. I started by locking the door just in case the nosy caretaker decided to come back. I supposed it didn't really matter if he were to discover me feeling out my surroundings rather than looking at them, but I wasn't ready to answer the inevitable questions that would come afterwards. A silver lining, if you could even call it that, was that at least I wouldn’t have to see all the pitying looks I’d be getting.

  I spent a good hour just moving around the different rooms. Turning on lights helped me make out certain shapes of things, but the images were too blurry to identify even the smaller things like the thermostat and the switch for the fireplace. The cabin wasn't overly cold, but having lived in Los Angeles for the better part of my adult life, I wasn't used to the cold. And even though it was technically spring, the woods of northern Maine still tended to get pretty cold at night.

  I felt all around the fireplace for the switch that would turn it on but couldn’t find it. Luckily, I’d felt some blankets in a basket by the fireplace, so I could always use those if there were any issues with the heat or I couldn’t figure out how to turn the thermostat up.

  Satisfied I wouldn’t freeze to death, I spent the rest of the afternoon getting settled. The car and driver I'd hired to bring me to the cabin had long since left, but he’d left all of my belongings on the porch. It took a good while to get everything inside and up to the room I decided was the master bedroom. It was early by the time I settled between the sheets and willed sleep to claim me. The silence I'd been so certain I needed in order to make sense of things arrived like a freight train. I could hear every tick of the clock in the bedroom as well as the creaking of the house as the winds outside increased and rain began pelting the roof.

  In my old life, I would've still been at work dealing with the hustle and bustle that came with running a successful video game company. I would've been surrounded by coders, testers, and developers as we came up with the next hit video game. My days would have been all about me dealing with all the administrative tasks and making decisions about everything from the characters to the themes to the color schemes, but the nights… the nights would be mine.

  Mine to do what I loved most, which was bring the games in my head to life. Seeing the characters taking shape on the screen and imagining that there’d be at least one kid out in the world who’d be able to escape their ugly realities in a world I’d created was almost like a drug to me, and only when my body was too exhausted to function did I make my way to my empty, sterile penthouse. But the city around me never slept. It was never too quiet. And if sleep eluded me, the luxury of a Wi-Fi connection was all I’d ever needed since there were always emails that needed answering and problems that needed solving. Not to mention all the work I did to help my brothers find the kids the rest of the world had given up on…

  Thoughts of my brothers had me pulling in a deep breath as I tried to calm my mind. The internet wouldn’t be around to save me from my own thoughts tonight or for as long as it took for me to get my shit together. I’d purposefully picked a place with no internet because I needed to stay off the grid.

  I sighed and turned over onto my stomach in the hopes that would somehow magically trigger my brain to shut down. But my busy brain refused to let go of the fact that, like so many times in my life, my body was failing me. Only this time, there would be no coming back from it. It didn't matter how long I spent in isolation trying to figure out the next steps. The fact was that there were no next steps. I'd known for months that the day was coming when I’d open my eyes and see nothing but darkness. I'd had time to acknowledge it, accept it, and adjust to it, but instead I’d chosen the easier route of denial.

  I’d come to this cabin to find a way to come to terms with what my future held, but as I lay there in the darkness, I had to face the bitter truth.

  I had no future.

  At least not one worth living, anyway.

  Chapter Two

  Gideon

  Between Brewer's incessant whining and burning a third batch of eggs, my normally quiet morning was already shot before the clock even struck seven. None of that was my dog's fault, of course, so I gave him a quick pat and said, "I'll catch up to you," before opening the door for him. The husky mix rushed out the door and raced into the woods. I sighed as I noted the few inches of fresh snow on the ground. It wasn’t uncommon for us to get some accumulation throughout the month of May but after a long winter, I was ready for warmer weather. For today, however, I’d have to shift my plans and deal with the white stuff.

  I shut the door and went back to the stove to get rid of the burned eggs. I grabbed a banana from the fruit basket and quickly ate it as I pulled on my heavy work boots. My body protested as I shrugged on my heavy coat. My tired limbs were practically ordering me to get back into my warm bed for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for one single reason.

  And it was the same reason that had kept me tossing and turning all night long.

  The asshole of a new tenant occupying cabin number three.

  Even now, my blood started to boil as I considered how the man had so easily dismissed me. His voice had dripped with condescension and he hadn’t even been bothered to look my way as he’d pretty much ordered me to leave and not return.

  It was no skin off my nose. I’d get paid either way. If some uptight Richie Rich type wanted to get his hands dirty during his “rustic” vacation, that was fine by me.

  I actually laughed out loud. Richie Rich and people like him had no clue what living rustically meant. The cabins that Harvey Parnell had built outside the small town of Fisher Cove were mini mansions compared to the small houses and cabins most residents, including me, lived in. When Harvey had announced he was building the cabins, people had been equally confused and curious. While Maine’s north woods offered many tourist opportunities, Fisher Cove itself had never been any kind of tourist destination simply because it’d been too damn hard to get to. Not to mention how unpredictable the weather was and the fact that the seasons included early winter, winter, late winter and, as the locals called it, “quick-it-stopped-snowing-so-now’s-our-chance-to-get-the-hell-out-of-here.”

  Harvey Parnell wasn’t a foolish man, though, and he’d made himself a pretty penny on the cabins. The man actually had waiting lists for them. People were clearly eager to disconnect from the real world, and while there was usually some sort of culture shock when they learned no internet really meant no internet, by the time they left they were already planning their next visit and calling Harvey to get on the waiting list.

  Harvey hadn’t brought in tons of tourists to Fisher Cove, but it gave the town of three hundred residents something to talk about all year round. It was an endless source of amusement for the townspeople to watch city folk adapt to the handful of shops and businesses that kept the town afloat. It was like a reverse zoo or aquarium. The exhibits came to us and we would inevitably find ourselves eagerly awaiting the next family or couple to come and entertain us with their city-ish-ness.

  Except me. I
dreaded the newcomers because it meant I had to put my hi-I’m-your-neighborly-caretaker-here-to-serve-you mask on.

  I hated that fucking mask.

  So I should have been relieved that the newest tenant of The Cabins at the Cove hadn’t held any punches when he’d shown his true colors right out of the gate the day before. I should have been looking forward to what essentially would have been a vacation of sorts, especially since the mysterious renter of Birch Cabin had also rented out the other two cabins.

  One guy.

  Three cabins, each capable of housing six guests.

  It made no sense.

  But I wasn’t paid to make sense of things. I was paid to keep the clients happy and comfortable.

  Unless they were rude shitheads… those fuckers were on their own.

  As I made my way to my truck, whistling for Brewer as I went, my mind went back to the rude shithead who’d kept me tossing and turning all night. I hadn’t been able to make much out about him other than he’d been wearing an expensive overcoat that most certainly wouldn’t keep him warm if he dared to step outside the cabin for any length of time. The only physical trait I’d been able to see had been his dark hair, which had been neatly trimmed on the sides and a bit longer on top.