Surviving Doctor Vincent: The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 2

by Renea Mason

  I scoffed. “Certainly not people like me. What do you want?” I glared at him.

  “To tell you a story. It starts with Charles Lemiux.”

  “He’s dead. End of story.” I had never met Charles, Lydia’s partner, yet somehow, he had become a recurring theme.

  He laughed.

  The waiter returned and placed our glasses on the table. He poured the wine and then scurried away.

  “We might be wicked, but we do love our laws. Manipulation is an art for most of us. None of us are immune from each other’s wiles, so having mandates gives us a sense of control, safety even. Since we know what each other is capable of, it’s the only thing that allows us to sleep at night. That’s why disregarding our code has dire consequences. But of course, just like the structure of civil obedience that governs us outside the Society, it truly only matters if you get caught.” He took a sip from his glass and then inhaled and exhaled deeply.

  “Xavier said it’s like honor among thieves.”

  “Exactly.” He sighed, seeming almost bored. “Charles became a council member after his predecessor disappeared. Everyone always suspected Charles was responsible, but it could never be proven.”

  “Maybe he wanted to get away from all the nonsense and moved far away from all of you.”

  He smiled over the rim of his glass. “No one gets out alive. You can’t just quit the Society.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. What did that mean for Xavier? Me? How would he ever manage to overthrow this merry band of sociopaths?

  Sitting his drink on the lacy, white napkin, he continued, “Charles also selected his subjects carefully. I always suspected that it was so he didn’t meet the same fate as his keeper. Lydia Dupont was one of his first. I was next, and of course...Xavier.”

  I didn’t like the way he said Xavier’s name. The sour expression that crossed his face and the contempt in his voice with just the mention, made the muscles in my back tense. This man was not to be trusted. “Why didn’t Charles just manipulate Miriam, his own daughter, instead of Lydia? He preyed on a child, you know that, right?”

  “Yes, we all do.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Our families are exempt from Society influence. Another rule established to perpetuate the sense of security.” He lowered his voice as a woman passed behind the table on her way to the restroom. “Charles didn’t care much for rules, or rather, he liked to use them to tie the other members in knots.” He cleared his throat. “Charles refused children born from breeders—women who volunteered to give their carefully bred children to the care of the council. He believed it was too easy. He enjoyed the challenge of seducing a subject and didn’t have the patience to wait for their maturity.”

  “Well, at least he spared most children his influence.”

  Oscar straightened in his chair. “Not all members are power hungry like Charles. Many choose a child as a subject anonymously and keep a distance. They influence with subtlety, providing a life of opportunity. You’d be surprised how many prominent figures in history have been our chosen. Collectively, we can nurture better than any individual family unit can.”

  “But don’t they end up dead if the keeper fails?”

  “In those cases they rarely do. The typical keeper who chooses a child as a subject sets realistic goals and outcomes. You have to understand, people like Charles, Lydia, and Xavier are the exception, not the rule. Most members of the Society are harmless. Most do not conceive grandiose plans aimed to fulfill a narcissistic fantasy, but those that do, are lauded for their achievements. Typically, they rise among our ranks, and eventually find their seat on the council. You see...because Xavier made the cancer breakthrough, Lydia has secured a legendary status in the Society.”

  “Matters little, since she’s dead.”

  “Legacy is everything. We believe that if your legacy is strong enough, the next life will carry that power and energy forward.”

  “Ahhh...a religious cult.” Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more bizarre.

  He cleared his throat. “The only thing that separates religion from science is each man’s definition of truth.”

  I took a drink of the wine. “It all sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me.”

  “Many might say the same about religions like Scientology, but to the believers, dissent matters little.” He shot me another one of those all-knowing smiles. “Besides, most non-believers in any faith or science would agree with you, but believers are steadfast and will defend even the most logic-defying concepts.”

  “True.”

  He tapped on the side of his glass. “Back to my story. Victoria joined the Society willingly as a breeder at the urging of Maximilian, another council member. She was chosen immediately to be the next surrogate, giving her little time to acclimate. Maximilian, who had been Victoria’s biggest champion, was in line to be the child’s keeper.” He swirled the liquid in his glass. “Victoria accused Charles of preying on her as a child.”

  “Surely, you don’t doubt her. He does have a history with Lydia.”

  “Wasn’t our concern.”

  “The Society knew that Charles was a child molester and turned a blind eye?”

  “We don’t exist to deliver justice.”

  I crossed my arms tighter over my chest. “Of course not.”

  “Anyway... After repeatedly passing on his opportunity to take children of the breeders, Charles decided to exercise his rights with Victoria’s first born. It was unexpected, and Maximilian was not pleased. He accused Charles of doing it out of spite. When Charles exercised his rights to the child, Victoria was furious.” He took a deep breath. “Had Charles simply taken Xavier and provided for him, like the other keepers did for their born subjects, she may have forgiven his game. But when she found out that he was giving the child a life of struggle, rather than privilege, she became enraged.

  “Charles used the rules to torture Victoria, and this fueled Maximilian’s petition to the council to take her as his willing subject, so that she could actively participate. Breeders were usually not taken as subjects. They were usually pampered and provided for by the Society to make up for their contribution, which is why the role is attractive. Willing subjects are more like assistants to keepers, having an active role in the chaos. Breeders were protected. From that day forward, Maximilian and Victoria had Charles in their crosshairs.”

  “So Victoria wanted Charles dead?”

  “Practically everyone wanted Charles dead. But it’s amazing how resilient power can make someone. For reasons no one understands, Charles gave Xavier to Lydia, but not until he was in his late teens.”

  I knew why. Charles needed to distance himself from Xavier’s dead girlfriend. He was Charles’s fall guy.

  “That makes Xavier Lydia’s subject, and as long as I, Charles’s only other known living subject, lives, Xavier can never join the council.” He raised an eyebrow. “Before you get that gleam in your eye and think of having me shot again, you’d have to kill yourself too. That scar says you belong to Charles. Victoria knows it. She remembered you. She asked me to confirm. I did, but the others don’t know.”

  I stared in disbelief. There was no way. “I’ve never even met Charles, so this is all impossible. How do you know anything about me?”

  “Because I was Lydia’s confidant. We were forced to survive Charles together.” He coughed a few times, clutched his chest and cleared his throat. “That forged a special bond between us.”

  “How does Xavier figure into this?”

  “He was Lydia’s gift to the world to make up for everything we’ve done wrong. Her atonement. She protected him from Charles. She married him to give him the connection he needed, but the distance necessary to unleash his brilliance.”

  “Did she love him?” I stared at the table.

  “In her way. She gave her romantic love to me, her altruism to Xavier, her obedience to Charles, and her loyalty to legacy. She worked in such su
btle ways, but of all of us, achieved the greatest impact.”

  The sadness in his eyes almost drew me in, but I quickly remembered who I was dealing with. “It doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “Charles discovered that Victoria was making significant advancements with one of her subjects. The rules say you can’t interfere directly, but say nothing about a subject’s family. Most keepers would never consider something so underhanded, but Charles decided that he would stick to the letter of the law, rather than the spirit. He was a master at perverting opportunities.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and cracked his neck to the side.

  Why did he look so nervous?

  He continued, “He grew more disgruntled with each missing persons headline, and decided to kill the children of Victoria’s subjects. Grief can set back someone’s progress indefinitely.”

  “I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”

  “Infamy and esteem are both lauded as achievements within the Society. Influence, good or bad, is how success is measured. Your father is the most successful serial killer of all time. Victoria has been rewarded greatly for her accomplishment.

  Breath felt out of reach. Impossible. I sat straight up. “What? You can’t be serious.” I gripped the table in an effort to stop my head from swirling.

  He shifted in his seat and groaned, rubbing his leg. “You know, it would have been nice if your companion had stopped with the first shot. My left leg was already giving me trouble.”

  “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll call him and tell him you’re available for more target practice.” I glared at him. “You honestly want me to believe that Victoria created my father? This is nuts.” But there was that small part in me that wanted to believe. To fill that void for truth that had eluded me since the night I saw him in the hotel lobby.

  “Patience, I’m getting there.” He took a sip of his drink. “Charles set out to exact his revenge. He was trailing you the night of your accident. For all we know, he might have been the cause of it. But instead of killing you, he decided to control you, to blackmail your father with evidence of your torment and compromise. In the end, he’d control your father by commanding you. A clever way around the rules, again. Nothing expressly forbade him from taking you as his subject. Plus...you were young. Lydia was getting older and his interest was waning. He told Lydia of his plan. She had just learned of the cancer and no longer feared the council’s reprisal. A quick death would have been welcome instead of the prolonged agony she eventually experienced. Not wanting anyone else to fall under Charles’s influence, she killed him, keeping you a secret from everyone but me.”

  “But Victoria knew that day I was in her office.”

  “Yes, but since no one else did, it didn’t matter. She had bigger issues with your father’s incarceration, another thing you can thank Lydia for. She had your assignments changed, landing you in the same hotel as your father.”

  I shook my head. “This is beyond fucked up. There is no way...”

  “Once you’ve seen all I have, nothing is surprising anymore. As I said, coincidences are rarely a product of fate.”

  Hysterical laughter bubbled from inside. “I’m done listening to this.” I turned to gather my purse.

  He reached across the table and stilled my hand, wincing with his movements. “Victoria knows you belong to Charles. She’ll convince Xavier to kill you. As his subject you have no protection. Your life is at his discretion. Since Xavier is her son, she believes she’ll have more power if he holds Charles’s post. I can’t allow that to happen. The two of them could cause widespread destruction, which would make everything Lydia worked for pointless. It hasn’t escaped me that creating the viciousness in Victoria may have been Charles’s plan all along.” He coughed again and lifted his glass to his mouth for a drink. “Excuse me.” He wiped his lips with the corner of the napkin. “Victoria can’t be allowed to hold influence over two positions on the council. I’m too old and my health is failing; I don’t have much longer to live. Xavier is easily influenced, a trait Lydia depended on. If Victoria convinces him to kill you before I die, there is no one to stand in his way. As his subject you have no protection from the council, but as a member yourself...”

  “Xavier won’t kill me and you don’t know him.”

  “He sent you off to be raped, is it really that big of a stretch?”

  “Yes. He needs me.” He didn’t need to know about the doctor’s deception.

  “Not if he’s seated on the council, he doesn’t. No one knows you have a claim to Charles’s seat besides Victoria. She knows I’m dying.” He began to cough again, his chest rattling. “Using you to solve this problem never even occurred to me, until I watched you that day in the gazebo and saw your scar, and then when Xavier presented you as his subject. If I were ever to give any credibility to fate, it would have been that moment. When I wheeled my chair into that room and saw you... My plan was set.”

  I took a deep breath, tried to hold back the hysteria that threatened to escape.

  “Victoria will convince him to execute you for not meeting potential, if you don’t have an unexpected accident first. If I die, you’re Charles’s last living subject, since Xavier was gifted to Lydia that makes him one removed from Charles. As Charles’s direct subject your acceptance is incontestable. Being a member of council affords you certain protections and releases you of Xavier’s control. Victoria can’t overthrow you, and Xavier would have to be careful. You dying too soon would point to him.”

  “But Xavier is better suited. He won’t team up with Victoria. You don’t know him like I do. He’d never kill anyone.”

  “I bet you would have said the same about your father and look how that turned out. Are you so sure you can trust him?”

  “Absolutely.” Even with his performance in the boardroom, I had no doubt; Xavier Vincent could never be a murderer.

  He smiled that eerie smile. “Good. That makes this easier.” He sighed. “Legacy was everything to Lydia, and I will not allow her to fail. That will be my legacy.”

  He tossed back the final mouthful of his drink and let out a deep breath that whistled through his teeth. “Are you sure Xavier won’t kill you?”

  I increased the intensity of my stare. “Absolutely.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, swiped the screen, and began typing something on the screen with one finger. He looked up at me and asked, “Willing to bet your life on that?”

  “Yes.”

  While staring at me he pressed something on his screen and then sat the phone on the table. “I’m not. Xavier is fickle, and I refuse to suffer like Lydia did. I’ll claim my victory now.”

  He reached inside his jacket. Before the scream could leave my mouth, the gun rested against his temple. Fragments of shattered glass scattered across the table and crashed to the floor. I closed my eyes and heard the screams of nearby patrons. I sat frozen for a few moments and hoped that when I opened my eyes, the scene would disappear.

  But no luck. Crimson streams ran like rivers down the wall. Oscar’s lifeless body slumped in the chair. His limp hand still held the gun in his lap. Fear and anxiety gripped my body, seizing muscles, causing my heart to thunder in my chest. The first tear fell. Nothing would ever be the same.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Reformation

  “What’s your address, Ms. Watkins?” The tall man’s blue uniform added to his commanding presence.

  “Huh?” I stared at the officer, barely registering his words.

  “I need your address. We’re going to have one of the officers take you home.”

  “Oh... It’s...ahhh...” Shit. I didn’t know. I knew how to get there but Xavier’s penthouse address evaded me.

  “Ma’am... It’s a simple question. Where do you live?”

  Even though it sounded stupid, I went with the truth. “I can’t remember the address. I just moved. I can give him directions.”

  The dete
ctive’s scowl did not help my nerves. He pointed to a uniformed cop by the door. “Officer Benton, over there, will see you home.”

  I gathered my purse. Thankfully, it hadn’t been impacted by Oscar’s demise. My clothes, however, were another story. The young hostess, who had originally escorted me to the table, gave me her gym clothes to change into but they were two sizes too small. The paramedics that arrived on the scene provided antiseptic to clean my skin and assisted in rinsing my hair, but it was still matted and disheveled. I was a mess, inside and out. “Do you need anything else from me?”

  “Are you sure Mr. Bernstein didn’t say anything about why he decided to end his life?”

  “I’m positive.” How could I ever explain the truth? I didn’t understand it myself.

  “Any clue you have might help ease his family’s burden.”

  I sighed. “I know. I wish there was something else I could say.”

  “Fine. If you remember anything, just call the station.”

  “Certainly.”

  My legs felt like lead. The knot in my chest stifled my breathing. The moment I glanced back at the table, I regretted it. Oscar’s still form sat covered with a tablecloth and blood made deep red stains on the white fabric. Nothing made sense. How would I explain this all to Xavier when I didn’t even understand it myself?

  * * *

  When we pulled up in front of Xavier’s building, Officer Benton with his bushy mustache asked in a thick New York accent, “You sure this is the place?”

  “Positive, but you know what? I don’t have a key.” Xavier had never given me one. We had been so overwhelmed, and he was always with me, so neither of us actually considered it.

  He laughed. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  I glared at him. “You think I’m lying?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He smirked. “Just most people who have enough money to live in a place like this are usually smart enough to remember their own address.”

  I glared at him. “Thank you for the ride, Officer.” I threw open the door and to my surprise, he exited the vehicle too.