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Chapter Eight
Reid
“You did good work on the claim down at the Café, son.” My father complimented me out-right for probably the first time in my entire life as I pulled the chair out for my mother to sit at the dining table in my childhood home.
I’ve been home for a few weeks and have been avoiding my mother. A mother has a way of seeing things when no one else can, and I was afraid to take the risk that she might see straight through me, that I could compromise this mission just by merely existing in her presence. So, I’ve stayed away, until she called me personally and invited me to dinner. I didn’t have the heart to turn her down, especially when I’m here, in the same town as she is, for the first time in years.
“Should have the check to them next week. I’m still learning the ropes, but I’m learning quickly.” Brief and to the point.
I got exactly what I needed from processing the claim on the Café. Access. My father was more than willing to show me what he meant by easing the paperwork and expediting the claims process.
A few clicks of a mouse that I never even saw from the back end and Alex was able to pull every single account my father held. He pulled financial information, personal files, and email correspondence. Enough information to put my father away for a long, long time as well as tie him to Victor Adkins and Sylvester Wilks.
However, my father isn’t our main target. Sure, the work he does is fraudulent and highly illegal, but we’ve been after Adkins and Wilks for years. For now, we’re filing away information and using the information we do have to further our investigation. We get to Wilks and Adkins we stop a seemingly never-ending cycle of death and destruction and in the process save countless lives.
“That’s my boy. I told your mother that you would give up that nonsense vigilante shit eventually. Once you got a taste of the real world and realized that true heroes don’t exist. Your mother fed into that garbage for far too long when you were a boy. It’s about time you realize the truth. Money is the fuel that makes the world go round, it’s what breeds success. You were born to run this dynasty, not chase after false dreams that lead to a pitiful government pension, or better yet, an early grave.” Spittle flew from my father’s mouth as he spewed his poison. I could feel my blood pulsing in my veins as I kept my face stoic, not giving anything away, a skill I’ve spent years honing in my line of work.
I slid into the high-back, custom cloth dining chair seated directly across from my mother and I watched her, I really observed her for the first time since coming home. Her dark hair was swept up in an up-do off her face, the gray strands of her honey brown hair slowly outnumbering the brown. My mother has always been a beautiful woman, and the changes in her appearance over the years have been subtle, almost unnoticeable. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her cheekbones while she looked down at her plate as my father spoke.
She wore a pale pink dress with a floral pattern that wrapped around her trim waist. She looks slightly more frail than the last time I saw her, more delicate. I have to wonder if that is attributable to her age or if it has more to do with the man that sits at the head of the table and demands her attention just by being present. My parents were raised in a different time, they hold beliefs of a different era. My mother has always been adamant that divorce is never an option, under any circumstances.
Growing up, my mother was the primary parent in our household. My father spent many nights at the office, working late. He attended conferences and meetings that required him to travel, all things that I had come to consider were just a part of his trade. It was normal life for me, but looking back, knowing what I know now, I have to wonder how in the dark my mother truly is.
Eloise Chapman is an intelligent woman. I always considered my mother to be one of the strongest women I knew. Looking at her now, I can’t help but think that after all these years her appearance remains so similar and yet her fire is gone. She’s resigned herself to this life. I just hope that after the fallout she’s able to regain some of what was lost. She doesn’t deserve this life, the woman who raised me deserves so much more.
Her sharp words cut through the thick air that seemed to surround the dining room. “George, enough. We’ve always entrusted Reid to make his own decisions about his future. You got what you wanted after all; he’s here isn’t he?” My mother’s blue eyes, an identical match to my own, lifted and locked onto mine. She stared at me with an intensity that I didn’t realize she still had in her.
She’s studying me as much as I’m studying her. Her strong words are meant for my father, but she looks at me with questions and knowledge of things that my father is oblivious to. That one look and I know, I don’t have to be afraid for her. She might have subdued the fire but it’s still there, simmering just beneath the surface. Eloise Chapman is a fighter, and she’s looking at me like she sees our war and hopes we’re both fighting on the same team.
???
After a tense dinner with my parents, I excused myself and went back to my apartment early. I tossed back two fingers of Jameson as soon as I walked in the door and crashed onto my king-size bed hours before I normally even consider falling asleep. Sleep doesn’t come easy when you’ve seen the things I’ve seen. Sometimes you just have to knock yourself the fuck out to get some decent rest, and after enduring the torture that was dinner with my parents, I couldn’t afford to let my mind wander into itself tonight. I needed to not think.
I woke with the sun, having forgotten to close the blackout shades when I got home last night, my eyes burning and my head screaming at me for all the hell I put it through the night before. I ran my hand over the thick stubble that lined my jaw and reached for my glasses on the nightstand so that I could see well enough to check the actual time.
At just after six, I have plenty of time to go for a quick run, shower, and grab some coffee before heading into the office. I need to finalize the details on the Anderson House project from Chapman’s side so that we’re prepared to give the impression at least that we are processing and handling a legitimate claim.
I extricated my body from the bed, and walked to the closet in search of clothing. After I wake up and my mind officially turns on for the day there is no turning that shit off.
Holly, sweet Holly. She’s not the only one that doesn’t like to sleep with clothes on. Except where Holly wears those cute little boy shorts, I wear nothing at all.
Opening one of my drawers, I pulled out a pair of black briefs and slipped them on over my semi-hard length. Damn thoughts of blonde hair and blue eyes.
I grabbed running shorts and a white t-shirt and threw those on too, using my frustration with the train of my thoughts to fuel my need for a run. I slipped on my running shoes and grabbed up my earbuds and cell phone before heading out the door. Everything else can wait until I get back and have hopefully run off some of my pent-up aggression. Aggression from dinner last night, aggression from the walls we keep running into on this case, and Holly.
Waving to the doorman, Ralph, on my way out, I relished in the crisp fresh air as I took off through downtown Carlton in the early morning. The sun is up, and people are just starting to stir. Shops are preparing to open, and the dew is starting to evaporate from the benches that line the sidewalks. Normal people, living their everyday lives, completely oblivious to the constant evil that surrounds them as they prepare to begin a new day.
I had no predetermined path when I set out on my run this morning, I haven’t lived in this part of town long enough to have an established running trail yet. I turned down one street and then the next until two blocks over I looked out across the street and felt my breathing become labored. I’m not in my twenties anymore, but I train with men that are. I’m in the best physical condition of my life because I don’t have the option not to be. When the time comes and I find myself in a difficult situation, I have to be able to count on my body to do what I’ve trained it to do.
But right this minute, as my eyes catch on that same blonde hair, I was daydreaming about this morning in a pair of skintight black leggings my lungs stop working, my heart races, and I start to question every hour I’ve spent training for the last fifteen years.
Somehow, I’ve made my way back to the café, and I can’t say that I’m disappointed, as I watch Beth unlock the door to let Holly in. She’s dressed more casual today than I’ve ever seen her, and yet she still somehow manages an air of elegance. She’s wearing leggings that leave no curve to the imagination, a lime green tank top that exposes the creamy white skin of her shoulders and matching green sneakers that I’m sure if I got close enough, would not have a single scuff on them.
On a whim, I called her in the middle of the night a couple of nights ago. I don’t know what came over me. I was working from my laptop in bed, and I had my father’s case file opened up. I was scrolling through the information we had on the café and trying to map connections to Adkins, and it was like my fingers had a mind of their own. I memorized her cell phone number the night Alex gave me access to her file; it was one of the first things I did, not knowing how long I would have access to her information.
I honestly didn’t expect her to answer the phone, and I most definitely did not expect for her sultry voice to come across the line and speak of threesomes and fucking. It was obvious she thought I was her sister Noel, but it was entertaining all the same.
The more she spoke the more I wanted to keep her on the line. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t searching for a reason to get away from a woman. No, instead I was racking my brain looking for a reason to keep her talking.
