Teddy moaned. “I don’t like this place. I want to go back to Uncle Ethan’s house. I want my mom.”
They had been through this before. Each time she had made empty promises and lulled him back to a place of comfort with lies. She hoped that eventually these memories would fade and his tragic life would seem dreamlike, possibly even like a lie he had told himself once upon a time. But now his dead mother had a face. And a name. Now his dead mother pined for him across the waters and waited for Blair’s promised return. Her lies had become truths against her will.
“I know, dear Teddy.”
She couldn’t remember her own mother. Not real memories, not anything that she could grasp with any sort of confidence. Snapshots fluttered across her periphery every once in a while, and she tried to convince herself that she could feel all those stories people told her, but the truth was that she never felt anything at all.
Teddy began to wail louder, and his mouth twisted into a wrecked circle. Snot dripped out of his nose and the boy wiped it away where it stayed as a thick line against his hand.
“I’m here,” Blair comforted. “I’m here, Teddy.”
Downstairs she heard a knock on her door. Not the quiet and subtle knock of a tentative nighttime visitor, but a deliberate and determined knock of someone expecting entrance. Grabbing Teddy, still wet, Blair carried him down the stairs on her hip and walked to the door, opening it with her free hand. Her father stood on the other side.
“Good,” he said. “You found your apartment. May I?” he motioned toward the living room and Blair stood back. Teddy’s whimpers had subsided, and now the boy just watched as the older man came into the house, looking around the open space and assessing each nook and cranny.
“It’s late, Dad,” Blair said. She nodded toward the child. “Teddy just had a nightmare...I need to get him to sleep.”
“I’m imposing,” Huck said. His face was flush and he had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
“It’s not the best time,” Blair answered. “But you can stay and I’ll be back?”
“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Teddy said into Blair’s shoulder.
Huck nodded. And he sat down on the couch, clearly settling in to wait to talk to her. Annoyed, Blair trudged back upstairs and took her time. She ran a warm washcloth over Teddy and changed him into new pajamas. She picked up the blocks and put them away and stripped the sheets and laid down new blankets from her own bed, unsure if there were extra linens in one of the many closets. After singing a song while rubbing his back, Teddy drifted to sleep, still letting out intermittent cries.
Blair went back to see her father.
“So, this is not some social call?” Blair asked, sitting down across from him.
“The System plan was a failure.”
“I’ve already talked to you about this, Dad. Do we need to do it again? It’s over. Done. And I’m tired.”
“I lost men. First in Saudi Arabia and now in Nebraska. Good men.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Even if it’s not me who should be sorry. You know that, right? That it wasn’t my fault?”
“But I feel like I’m missing something...”
Blair didn’t answer. Then she saw his narrowed eyes, his stern face. She wondered, for a second, if her father knew the truth. Maybe he was baiting her into telling him more lies and then he would tell her that he knew. Hank had told. Grant had caved. Cameras caught the survivors on the plane. Her father’s attempts at control knew no bounds, and she should have guessed that he would out her as a traitor.
Unless she gave them up. Unless she spun the truth, the real truth, to her advantage.
Beat him at his own game and tell the truth, which he wasn’t expecting.
“I talked to Grant tonight,” Huck continued. “He challenged your version of the events...said that he didn’t save you. He wasn’t a hero.”
Blair paused. She took a deep breath. “Take a look at the cameras if you don’t believe me,” she said and waited.
He winked and put a hand out toward her, and she hesitated before grabbing it. When he wrapped his fingers around hers, he squeezed, too hard. She tried to pull her hand back, but he kept a tight grip, staring at her with a conniving grin. “Grant the hero,” he said.
She didn’t reply.
“Well, what I really came to say,” Huck continued, still holding on to her hand, “is that I think Teddy should stay in someone else’s care until you have recovered from the trauma of the System failure.”
“I’m not traumatized,” Blair said. She could feel her hand begin to quiver against his, her face turn hot. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and waited.
“You still have blood on your clothes.”
“You said Teddy could stay in my care. He’s mine.” Mine. Mine. Not mine, she thought.
“It’s decided, Blair. Allison was more than helpful and she has agreed to watch Teddy for just a little while more—”
“No,” Blair said. “No!” She stood up and crossed her arms. “You know that the only thing I care about is that child.”
“I need your full focus on our plan—”
“The plan is over, Dad! This is it...we are here, on Kymberlin. There is nothing else to plan. This is the plan. Is that so hard for you? Do you always need something else to build, something else to do?”
“My control is in jeopardy. Do you understand? I need you to build support...lobby...”
“Dad,” Blair said in a steady voice. “Go to bed. Come talk to me when you’ve thought this through. You’re being...ridiculous. I have done nothing but stand by your side and support every single move you have ever made. I have loved you, feared you, worked for you for my entire life. And if you take away the one thing that I have ever asked for in return—”
“The boy does not belong to you,” Huck said simply. “He belongs to me. He is an orphan of the Islands and he is mine.”
Blair couldn’t contain her sadness and rage, she let out a primal scream at her father and reached out at the closest item within her reach: a vase that had traveled with her from place to place: it was a blue and green mosaic always boasting a single flower of the season. She grabbed it along the neck and threw it to the side, where it shattered against the wooden floor of her new kitchen, sending the glass scattering.
“I hope that had significance to you,” Blair said through her tears and she moved to the stairs. “Did you buy that for me? On one of your trips?”
“I don’t care about things,” Huck said without moving. He stared at his daughter thoughtfully. Then he rose and walked to the door, opened it wide, and allowed two guards to slide into the house.
“No,” Blair said and she scrambled up the steps. “You won’t take him away from me. I love that boy! Do not take him away from me!” The guards moved with quick steps, unflinching as they gained on her. She tore up to the top level and barricaded Teddy’s door as they approached. “Don’t,” she whispered, aware of how her blubbering must have appeared. Her mind went to thoughts of Teddy’s empty bed, his abandoned toys, and then her thoughts shifted to Darla on the shore. “Don’t take him. Please...you don’t understand. I need him. You can’t take him from me.”
“Ms. Truman,” one of the men said slowly. “Please move or we will have to take you away by force.”
“Call my brother,” she said hoarsely. “Can’t you call my brother?”
From behind the men, her father had climbed the stairs. She saw, for the first time since he had arrived, a true flash of anger.
“Gordy has no power over this decision. You and your brother can gang up against me all you wish, but you will lose,” Huck said, his voice shaking—his unraveling visible and tangible.
“Why do you want to hurt me?” Blair asked, pushing her hands against the doorframe until her arms ached from the pressure. “Why have you changed your mind? The boy is not a pawn in your game, Father. He is a child...who needs me.”
“Take her away from the door,�
�� Huck said without answering.
The guards were able to move Blair easily, but as soon as she had been pulled from the door, she stopped fighting. The last thing Teddy needed to see was her sobbing and wracked self, kicking and screaming as he was carried away. She walked to her father and stood before him, recognizing the puffiness of the flesh underneath his eyes.
“As if I needed more proof that you never loved me,” Blair said, wiping her tears. Then she slipped into the shadows of the hallway and crossed her arms, and watched as the guards cradled the sleeping Teddy and carried him down the stairs, tucked up in the quilt off her bed.
When Blair could no longer see him, she took a long look at her father and then walked into the child’s room, shut the door behind her, crawled onto his bed, curled up into a ball, and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was an unacceptable answer. Maxine stood in their kitchen and shook her head. Then she looked at Scott, her eyes full of tears. Lucy paced from one end of the kitchen to the other, her arms crossed and her jaw clenched. Galen sat on the steps that led up to the loft, and the twins were huddled near the window. Harper was asleep. Ethan was at the kitchen island, his head in his hands. There they all were, together, to endure the grim news.
“He can’t do that,” Maxine said. “Not without a vote.”
“He can do whatever he wants,” Scott answered. “He’s Huck. This is his world...I’ve never had any power, Maxine. He’s needed me and, honestly, now he doesn’t. And frankly, I’ve brought him the most trouble...Ethan and Lucy’s arrivals and...Grant...”
“We’re trouble?” Ethan took offense.
“I don’t see it that way, but—”
“Where is Grant?” Lucy asked again over the ensuing argument. “You don’t understand...you left him there. You didn’t secure his safety and then you left him there?” Maxine shot her a warning look, but Lucy ignored it.
“Gordy was adamant that Grant be spared,” Scott said matter-of-factly. “His life is not in danger.”
“Then where is he?” Lucy asked again.
“I don’t know,” Scott said to his daughter. “I don’t know.”
“Find him.”
“I have no authority to find him. My clearance level has been reset.”
Maxine shook her head again. “What does that mean, Scott? What does that mean?”
“No more meetings,” he answered calmly. “It’s not the end of the world.”
Everyone turned and looked at him slowly.
Ethan let out a small, annoyed laugh. Then he stood up. He seemed taller and older; he rolled his shoulders back and stood tall. He wore jeans and sneakers, and it was hard to tell that he was missing a leg underneath the clothes.
“Claude still has his clearance level intact. I’ll go get him,” Ethan announced. He started toward the door.
“No one leaves this house,” Maxine announced. “No one steps foot outside this door tonight. Not until I get a meeting with Huck and Gordy myself. You cannot be booted from the Board because of Grant. You didn’t know about the immunity, and that’s a ludicrous reason.”
“I knew about the immunity,” Scott said.
Lucy stopped pacing and turned to look at her father. Her mother narrowed her eyes. She took a threatening step toward Scott and Lucy held her breath as she watched her raise a crooked finger.
“Do you remember what you said to me that night in the System? When I was ready to crawl and dig my way out of there to find our children? Do you remember what you said to me?” Maxine lowered her voice and paused. Scott ran a finger over the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a rhetorical question, Scott. Do you remember?”
“I said,” Scott said after a beat, “that my position on the Elektos Board granted us safety.”
“And without it? Are we safe, Scott? Are...we...safe?”
“We are safe,” Scott said, his voice full, his own anger rising. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt with an angry swipe. “We are here...we are home and we are safe. I don’t have power anymore and thank God! Thank God, Maxine. Is it power you crave? Or is it life? Because I have given you one, and I am done with the other. So, if I’ve given you the wrong thing, then you can go out and get it yourself.”
She looked at him wide-eyed. And everyone stared at Scott. He wasn’t the one who swore or yelled. He was their calm, their rock.
Maxine lowered her voice. “If you hadn’t been on the Board, then Lucy, Ethan, and Grant would be dead.”
“Then it was lucky I was on the Board when we needed it the most,” he said. Then he turned to Ethan, “What does everyone want from me? Why does some arbitrary title mean anything?”
“Are you asking me, Dad?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you don’t want my answer.”
“No,” Scott said. “Maybe I don’t.” He slipped out of his collared shirt and placed it on the back of a kitchen chair, and then he slowly climbed the stairs toward his room, stopping to rustle the twins’ hair and place a kiss on Galen’s head. “Goodnight.”
“And we don’t go to bed with unresolved conflict,” Maxine called up the stairs. “Don’t you dare walk away from this family when they need you the most.”
Scott paused. He looked down at the faces of everyone looking up at him. Then his eyes scanned the house—the granite countertops, the majestic windows, the spiral staircases. “Really?” he asked with a shaky laugh. “This is when you think you need me the most? When I’m finally free of that man and his whims? When we have a gorgeous home in a beautiful city?”
“Dad,” Lucy said, unafraid to interrupt. She walked toward him, pleading. “You’re not free. You’re just a different kind of slave. Huck’s not going to lie down...when he realizes that he can’t sanitize everyone...when he realizes that the people here are just as human as the ones he slaughtered…then no one is safe here. We’re definitely not safe here.”
“You’re not safe anywhere,” Scott answered. “You never have been. You just never knew it until now. You’ve been protected your whole lives and you don’t care. It’s never the right kind of life that I can offer you.”
“Please,” Maxine said and she rolled her eyes and turned her back, placing her hands flat against the countertop.
“Huck is not some benefactor who gave us life,” Ethan called to his dad. “Why do you still buy into his illusion? We always had choices...it was you who believed our only choice was to give our lives over to that man.”
“Yes, you do have choices. Choose to live here, safely. Or choose to die. Because, my dear family, you don’t have a choice to leave...or a choice to fight...or a choice to change Huck’s world. Those are not the choices you have.” He looked directly at Maxine. “I’m tired. Goodnight.”
“Grant,” Maxine said, with her back still to Scott. A single request. “You lost your Elektos Board position because of him...and he’s not even worth searching for? You gave up everything you had built for the boy, and you’re just going to bed?”
Scott didn’t answer her. With slumped shoulders he took the steps one at a time and then disappeared into the loft, shutting his bedroom door behind him.
“Well,” she said, turning to Lucy. “That settles it.” She walked to the front door and opened it wide, and turned to Ethan. “No one leaves this house. I don’t care if a sea monster appears on that window and starts breaking the glass, you hunker down. Use the kitchen knives.”
“They’re plastic,” Ethan said.
“If Huck thinks plastic knives are going to prevent murder, then he’s never met Mama Maxine.” She nodded, pulled her robe tighter around her belly, and stormed out down the hall. Even after they had shut the door, they could hear their mother’s clomping steps fade into the distance.
Grant opened the door expecting to see guards and Huck and Gordy; he had assumed they changed their mind and were coming back to finish the job. So, when he saw Maxine standing there in her bathrobe, her hands on her hips, her bare face staring forward a
t him with a mixture of annoyance and relief, he wanted to hug her.
“Get your things,” she said, and she snapped her fingers. No good evening or other formal greetings one might receive after opening a door.
“Of course,” Grant said, and he reached behind him to grab a small green toothbrush.
“That’s it?” she asked. Grant nodded. “Good. Come on, let’s go.” She marched off down the hall and Grant scrambled behind her. Even though her legs were much shorter than his, he still struggled to keep up with her breakneck pace. She stormed up the steps, flew through the sky bridge, and breezed past the concierge. Grant shuffled by, too. Then Maxine changed her mind and she looked back at the woman smiling blandly at them as they walked past.
“Excuse me,” Maxine said.
“Good evening, Ms. King,” the concierge said. “Is there something I can procure for you tonight?”
“Procure,” she repeated with disdain. “No. Look, this young man,” she tugged on Grant’s sleeve and pulled him closer, “is staying with us.”
“Oh,” she said and she looked at Grant. “Mr. Trotter. I hear you’re a lovely piano player. Did you know we have a lovely collection of instruments on level thirty-two?” She glanced for a millisecond at the camera above her and the nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. King. I’ll note it in the log.”
Maxine paused, poised to launch, and hesitated before simply adding, “You do that,” before walking away.
Grant held on to his toothbrush with a fist and shot a glance over at Maxine. “Are you mad?” he asked in a whisper while they walked along the sky bridge to their housing.
“Mad?” Maxine stopped. White twinkle lights lined the walkway and dotted the ceiling, but the tunnel was enclosed in a thick darkness. Grant knew that the ocean drifted beneath their feet, but he couldn’t see anything except blackness reflected back up at him. “No,” she said, softening. “Not at you.” She paused, and then added, “Are you okay?”
“No,” Grant answered. He had never answered no to that question in his entire life. “Is that alright?”
The Virulent Chronicles Box Set Page 106