John laughed. “Not stupid, are you?”
Feeling hopeful, I put out my hand to shake his. “It’s a win-win situation. Do we have a deal?”
He didn’t respond as his gaze had fallen to the scar on my hand. “Lenore did that to you, didn’t she?” he asked, pointing to the bite mark.
Hope. Gone.
“You are smart,” he said, backing up, “and a Lowen. If I let you walk away, who’s to say that in two years’ time, you won’t want control? The world would be at your feet and yours for the taking. You might even decide your father’s vision for the future of mankind is something to get behind. Who’s to say you won’t continue to fund him?”
I pulled my last card and laid it on the table. “Because I hate him as much as you do. Because. He. Killed. My. Mother.”
John sucked in a breath. I held mine.
“My granddaughter,” he said, and there was a fleeting glimmer of compassion in his eyes. “I wish there was another way.”
And with that he turned and strode out the door, locking it behind him.
I picked at the wallpaper.
Mauling the little daisies was my only form of retaliation, so I peeled them off in one-inch segments and layered them on a satin pillow. Luke paced the floor. His steps away from me were slow and tentative, and the steps on his return, hurried. He was so wound up I thought he might snap in half. Marlene threw herself into prison style push-ups and sit-ups, working to exhaustion, resting, then doing it again. Oliver settled into watching her after he’d tried to open a window—not only barred but blacked out and most likely bullet proof. And Thomas stared vacantly into the fire, as far from me as possible.
A brief respite of food, and then taking turns showering and putting on clean clothes, didn’t eat up enough time. The days crawled by—or were they nights?
I kept picking at the wallpaper.
My fingertips were bloody and raw when four guards came into the room. I was asked to go with them. After Luke and Oliver were sent writhing to the floor from immobilizing taser guns, I politely obliged, taking a handful of wallpaper daisies with me.
In a blinding white room that reeked of antiseptic, I was seated in a chair, and the blindfold removed. A metal table was perched in a corner and the shiny instruments on a tray next to it made my heart pound madly. It tripled in time when John Marchessa stomped in to stand before me in what appeared to be his pajamas.
“I don’t believe in letting someone suffer,” he said clinically, pulling up a chair to sit before me. “How is your health?”
It was a confession and a loaded question; if I was the horse that was lame, would I be put down? “My health is absolutely perfect.”
He eyed the scar on my neck. “Uh huh,” he muttered, then motioned for a guard to pass him the tray of instruments. I jumped when he picked up a pair of scissors—my default reaction.
“Oh, relax,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I just have to check your shoulder and make sure its healing and not infected.”
I sat still as he cut away the bandages, hoping to not show my fear, wondering if I could get the scissors from his hand and stab him in the neck.
“Good Lord,” he said, moving in closer. “What happened here?” He was examining the burn and puncture wound decorating my bicep.
In a bored tone, I relayed the events. “Fell into some rapids. Got impaled by a tree. Luke had to cauterize the wound after he got me out or I would have bled to death.”
John looked me square in the eye, no doubt to see if I was lying. “Is Luke the one that kidnapped you?”
I gulped so hard it hurt. “Yes.”
“Henry tried to keep your disappearance a secret. My informant told me you’d been lost in the wilderness for weeks.”
“Yes,” I said again, eyeing the scissors.
“And you and Luke managed to survive in hell, without any outside help, for that long?”
Honestly was probably my best defense. “You might call it hell, but it was freedom for me. We found a cave heated by an underground spring. We had shelter, warmth, and water. Just no food.”
“A cave…” John repeated, lost in thought, and got to work dabbing at the wound that someone had stitched up while I was unconscious. “And your neck?” he asked, referring to the jagged scar there.
“Restaurant. Sixteenth birthday. Attempted kidnapping. Henry said you set it up.”
“Nope. Wasn’t me. The day you turned sixteen I was halfway across the world. Boy, Henry sure did an excellent job of making you fear me, didn’t he?”
“Seems like he had a good reason to.”
John grew quiet, taking more time than necessary taping down the bandage on my shoulder. When he was finished, he sat back and pretended to admire his handiwork. A silence grew between us that spoke volumes of my desire to live and his uncertainty over what to do about that.
I had to stay calm. “If you stoop to Henry’s level, you won’t be able to live with yourself.” His eyes, murky blue and red rimmed, met mine. He rubbed his chest as if it pained him, and a button on his pinstripe pajamas came undone. On impulse, I opened my palm to expose the wallpaper daisies.
“Maybe it’s time to let her go.”
He took the scraps of paper from his beloved daughter’s bedroom. At first, anger flashed across his face—I mean, I defiled the room—but it soon gave way to just plain old sadness.
“She never got a chance to come back,” he said.
I felt a tug of sympathy for him. I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.
John took in a deep breath and exhaled, as if the answer to a long drawn out question finally became clear. “Lenore would be proud of you,” he said, then got to his feet and dropped the daisies into the trash. “And just so she doesn’t rise out of her grave to haunt me, I’m going to let you go.”
My face went numb. It couldn’t be that easy.
“But,” he started.
But…
I knew there was a catch. He leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek. “There will be terms and conditions that cannot be broken. Understood?”
It took a second to find my voice. “Yes.”
“I will keep Marlene as insurance. If you waver from your promise or come out of hiding, I will hand her over to your father—he’s chomping at the bit to find the girl who posed as his daughter on her wedding day. And to keep Marlene in line, it just so happens that I know where your other friends are. Lisa is it? And the child she tends to… Luke’s little sister? I won’t expose their location to Henry if Marlene cooperates.”
“Why Marlene?” was all I managed to get out. I didn’t bother asking how he knew so much.
“Because she’s unrecognizable without makeup, and I can keep her here under the guise of one of the household help. Oliver is useless to me because whatever is going on in his lungs will kill him in a month, Thomas would self-destruct without you, and Luke would be an absolute nightmare to contain.”
Made sense. “All right. I need you to do something for me then, so Lisa and Luke’s little sister are cared for. Then we have a deal.”
“What?”
“Lisa needs custody of Louisa and ownership of the home she’s in. Make it happen.”
John pursed his lips. “Fine.”
“And Marlene must receive an education of some sort. She’s very bright.”
“Agreed.”
I felt numb but practically vibrated out of my seat. “And Luke, Oliver and Thomas. They go free.”
“Nope. Too much of a liability. They will go with you. Besides, it’s best you not be alone. Luke will die before he lets anything happen to you, and Thomas… Thomas will be your best chance of survival because he thinks with his head and his heart. You know, he was saving you from what he thought was a fate worse than death. He is the man I would pick for my daughter.”
All I could do was blink the stars out of my eyes, vision threatening to turn black with the pounding of my heart.
�
��I’m giving you a fighting chance, Kaya. If you survive where I’m sending you, in two and a half years you can have your life back. If you don’t, then I’ll have your body to send to your father. Either way, I’ll get what I want.”
“And where will I be going?” I asked, barely getting air into my lungs.
John stood. He clucked his tongue. “Someplace close enough for me to drop in monthly supplies, and far enough away from civilization that you will never be seen. Some would call it hell, but you said you survived it once.”
Abruptly snapping for the guards to come, John spun on his heels. “If you make it out alive, it will be interesting to see who is with you in the end. Luke or Thomas? I’m a betting man, but I wouldn’t touch that one with a ten-foot pole.”
Spring 2017
I wasn’t surprised when I got an anonymous phone call warning me to leave the ranch house. It was time to move on anyway. Regan and Ellis had, and the loneliness in their wake increased every day. A year and a half had gone by and there was no sign of Luke, just legal documents showing up at the door signed by him, giving me custody of Louisa with a note in his handwriting that said to trust him and not ask any questions.
So I didn’t. He was alive. I had Louisa. That’s all that mattered.
“Where are we going again, Momma?” Louisa asked.
Her beautiful blue eyes captured my heart every single time I looked at her, and when she called me Momma, I felt like my heart would burst. This love, more real, pure, and true than any I’d ever had in my life, was as strong as if I’d given birth to her myself. She was my child.
Opening her suitcase in which she’d put Brutus’s toys, sweaters, and leashes—none of which he ever used—she shoved in a bag of dog treats.
“We’re going to see Regan,” I told her.
“Oh, I miss him so much,” she said, wrestling with the zipper.
I did, too. Painfully so. Over the months we’d spent together I’d grown to like him. Too much.
“Where does he live?”
“Just outside of Vancouver,” I told her. “It’s a big city.”
“Van-coooo-ver,” she repeated, testing the word. “I know I’ll like it there.”
“I’m sure you will,” I said with a laugh. “We will be with friends again, and the ocean will accept you like you’re one of its long-lost mermaids.”
“My bathing suit!” she shrieked before running off to her room.
Her room. My house. Still unbelievable. The deed arrived the day after the custody papers with the same sort of note warning to not ask any questions. So I kept my mouth shut and covered each question instead with fresh coats of paint, new wallpaper, a nice sofa from IKEA, and pink curtains. I sold the animals and the helicopter. Gave away just about everything that reminded me of Seth and did what I could to make the place home.
But it never felt like one. Something was missing.
So, paying all the bills a year in advance—even the strange one from the numbered company that arrived monthly in Seth’s name—I packed my life into the back of the truck, ready to start over. Again.
Louisa was settled into her car seat. Brutus panted and drooled from his position in the front. They patiently waited as I double checked the appliances, locked every door, and took one last look around. Blowing a kiss into the air, I stopped in the kitchen before the breadbox. Behind it was the scrap of paper I had found on Seth’s body the day he died. The address, in his handwriting, was smeared because I had held it so often. No matter, I had it memorized. Repeatedly I’d Google mapped the location and wondered over many glasses of wine what was in a storage locker there, then I’d stash the paper back behind the bread box and try to go back to sleep.
Only, the dreams wouldn’t let up. They replayed him dying over and over. They swirled and hovered and danced in the darkness of my mind until I jolted awake in a pool of sweat asking myself whether I killed him in cold blood. I reasoned that I would never know if I pulled the trigger too quickly and misjudged Seth’s intentions. But the question could only remain a neon sign hanging off his ghost that wandered the halls.
“I’m gonna miss it here”, Louisa said when I got in the truck and belted up. “And by the way, I’m too old to be in a car seat. It’s for babies.”
“No it’s not.”
“Is so.”
“Look at the hawk in the sky,” I said, pointing up into the wide expanse of blue.
“Do you think we’ll ever come back?” Louisa asked, her gaze following the bird’s wings.
“I don’t know.”I put the truck in reverse and grinned at her in the rearview mirror. “This is an adventure for us, Louisa. As long as we’re together, does it matter where we end up?”
She flashed her slightly crooked teeth. Cheeks dimpling. “Not really. And I like how you are trying to change the subject from the car-seat issue.”
Issue? Wow. She was growing up fast. And she was smart like Luke.
“But no, Momma Lisa. If I am with you—and there are no mosquitoes because they suck, literally—then I’ll be happy. You know that.”
“Thank you,” I said, pursing my lips together to keep my eyes from watering. “Onward and upward then. To new beginnings.”
“And maybe no car seat?”
“I’ll think about it,” I said and headed onto the highway.
We left the valley and the mountains behind, and six hours later were at the west coast. Just outside of Vancouver in an old, wealthy area, Regan’s house stood gleaming white in the sunshine with masses of windows reflecting the blue of the ocean. It appeared so bright and cheery, and nothing at all like Regan. Although, when he came out the front door, something was different about him besides the extra weight he'd put on—all muscle—and the shorter hair. He seemed… at ease. His leg was fully healed but badly scarred, and as he sauntered down the front steps in floral shorts with a bit of a limp, there was a smile on his face. Louisa shrieked and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. I wished I could do the same.
“Heard anything?” he asked after a brief hug for me, as usual not bothering with hello. It was his default question; every ritual Saturday phone call he opened with it, to which I would say ‘no,’ or in this case shake my head discreetly so Louisa wouldn’t catch on that we were discussing her brother’s whereabouts.
“Nice place,” I said, following him into the house where enough presents to buckle a six-foot dining room table were wrapped and waiting. The only other thing in the cavernous room was a mammoth sectional couch. Besides the kitchen counter overflowing with pink cupcakes and every kind of treat imaginable, you’d think no one lived here.
“Those presents are for you, Lisa. Practical things like designer hand bags and jeans that aren’t second hand. I missed your birthday, so I figured I’d make up for it.”
I was speechless. He must have shopped for days. For me.
Regan kneeled before Louisa. “I decorated your bedroom myself. There are princess dresses in every color. And…” he pointed down a long, window-lined hallway, “when you find your room, you’ll find all your presents, too. Look carefully and you might see a furry one that will hop if you let it out of its cage.”
Louisa’s eyes widened in excitement. “A bunny? You got me a bunny, Uncle Regan?”
He kissed her on the cheek, his affection for her as clear as the day. “You bet I did.”
She squealed and ran off, then a few seconds later, squealed again.
“After what happened to Susan, I thought I better—”
I put my hand up to stop him. Susan the bunny—the one Louisa had gotten at Christmas—lost a fight with a coyote, and it wasn’t pretty. The thought still turned my stomach.
“I really hope that Louisa and I staying here is okay,” I said, staring in awe at the view of the beach and rolling waves outside the towering living room windows. Marble floors were cool beneath my feet and stretched to a fireplace that soared up into a vaulted ceiling. I imagined hot cocoa, Christmas trees, and a baby
in my arms—and quickly shook that vision out of my head. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
Regan put his hands in his pockets, appearing slightly uncomfortable. “It’s not an inconvenience. At all. I’m happy to have you and Louisa. In fact, I missed—”
“Don’t you dare say it, Regan.”
He cleared his throat and looked at his feet a moment, then gave Brutus a scratch behind the ears. “There’s a good school down the street, and I’ve got a few ideas for jobs for you if you’re interested. You’ll be happy here, Lisa. I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make that happen.”
“We still have to lay low and stay outta sight a while longer, but yes. Thank you,” I said, wanting so badly to reach for him but keeping my arms to myself.
With that unwavering gaze of his that made my head dizzy he said, “You look good, Lees. A manicure might help those garden-ravaged fingernails of yours, but other than that, not too shabby.”
“Thanks?” I couldn’t help but smile. Regan usually said things like that, then fell into whatever scheme his brain was dreaming up and drifted off. This time though, he didn’t turn away. I let my guard slip, admiring him, forgetting for a moment that this was Regan. Cold, single minded, revenge seeking Regan.
He levelled his eyes on mine. “I’m sorry, I have to say it. I missed you.”
Whoa. Maybe there really was something different about him. I felt my heart do a little leap in my chest.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he continued, motioning to the beautiful house then placing his hand over his heart. “But I kind of thought I’d let you do the decorating.”
“It’s great,” I said, throat constricting. “Really, it is. And I-I missed you, too.”
Regan took a long stride toward me. As he towered above me, I had to tip back my head to see him.
“I’ve finally let go,” he said softly, and I knew by the sadness in his eyes that he was talking about his sister. “I still want Henry six feet under for his part in her death, but I—I am free of everything else.”
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