Heartless Legacy (Heartless Heirs of Canyon Falls #4)

23. Thea

Chapter 23

Thea

“ W e need to work on getting your strength back.” Wolfe says as he slips his t-shirt over his head. We went to the gym this morning to watch the agents train, and he couldn’t help but get involved. “This place has a state-of-the-art training facility. It’d be a shame not to take advantage of it, along with Alexzander’s hospitality.”

“The only thing I want from him is answers.” I pause, working out the rest of my thoughts. “He’s been in hiding all these years.”

Wolfe sits on the bed, lacing up his shoes. When he’s done, he climbs to his feet and walks to the door. “He has, and I’d be interested in knowing why. But first, breakfast, then we’ll go see if today is the day he’s offering answers.”

Wolfe is behind me when we enter the galley, guarding my back. Is it my paranoia rubbing off on him, or does he sense a real threat? The galley is noisy, with teams yelling insults back and forth to each other about their latest mission stats. For a group of trained mercenaries, they sure are fucking happy. “Maybe I should’ve joined The Guardians.”

He shakes his head as he fills up his plate. “They’re nothing like this.” Pointing to the tables, he says, “These guys all have a sense of purpose. A reason to laugh and joke. They truly believe what they’re doing is for the greater good.”

“Isn’t that what The Guardians do? Take orders for the greater good of The League of the Daggered Ravens?”

He explains, “They work in service of The League. No matter how they feel personally about their missions, they take orders like good soldiers. The same way the military does.”

“I’m still not seeing the difference. This is what the Phoenix Foundation is doing, right?” I ask as I slide into a seat. He stares at my empty tray and says, “You didn’t get anything?”

I’m so used to not eating that my stomach heaves at the thought of putting anything in it. “I’m not hungry.”

He sets his tray on the table and walks back over to the serving station. When he returns, he’s carrying a tray of soup, crackers and some fruit, and places them in front of me.

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve lost a lot of weight and muscle tone. You need to eat. Or do you want me to connect you to an IV line?” My body locks up at the threat. I’ll never survive being poked again. “I’m not telling you to consume a burger and cheese fries. A couple spoonfuls of soup, some crackers and fruit. Just a few bites.” He points to my tray. “You eat. I talk.”

The food smells good. I want to eat, but… what if it’s drugged? The only thing pre-packaged are the crackers. I open those and pop one in my mouth. That appeases him, so he goes back to eating his food. He doesn’t talk until after I’ve finished the first cracker.

“Phoenix Foundation is more selective of the jobs they take than Andor Reese or The Guardians are.”

I ask the question that’s been niggling at me since the day he showed up here. “You didn’t want anything to do with The Guardians. You’ve been adamant about that, and didn’t want me joining, but you’ve been doing side jobs with Alexz’s people. Why?”

I wait, as he finishes half of his toast, then I take the other half of it off his hands. He shovels some eggs in his mouth before continuing. “The world of elite mercenaries is a small one, and the people who run teams all talk about potential candidates. Everyone wants the best. The League of the Daggered Ravens is in the Merc for Hire business. They keep to the shadows and Andor Reese is the public facing company.” He sips his coffee. “My grandfather has a good reputation in the world of private security, even after our fall out with The League. Other paramilitary companies and security firms tried to recruit me as well. I was into sports and fitness and told them all no. I was a kid, planning my dreams and wanted nothing to do with the elitist life of Canyon Falls or private security. But then, I needed cash to open my gym, and you know the rest…”

“You couldn’t get a loan, because The League controlled the banks, so they made you a deal. They’d approve the loan as long as you agreed to recruit for MISTIC.”

“Yes, and I do exactly what I agreed to do. I recruit people who would be a perfect fit for them.”

“Yet you didn’t want me to be a part of their organization.”

His lips twitch. “I said I recruit the perfect people for them . You don’t fit that description, Thea.”

I’m a little hurt that he didn’t think I was good enough. “Excuse me? I’m just as ruthless and skilled as anyone else.”

“You are, but you’re not morally bankrupt enough for Andor Reese, and I didn’t want them to chip away at the goodness you keep locked inside.”

My anger deflates. “You think I’m too good for them?”

“I know you’re too good for them.” He waves his hand to encompass the surrounding tables. “That’s how I wound up doing jobs here. I started running into Kendall at fights and other events, and we became friendly. He was on a fight card in Atlantic City and got pulled into a PI job. He asked me to watch his back.”

“Working for the Phoenix Foundation isn’t a full-time job?”

“It doesn’t have to be. When the recruits are done with training, they can do whatever they want. Live wherever they want.”

“So Atlantic City?”

“Yeah. I helped him with his job. A few months later, he called me to help with another, and I did. Some more time went on, a few more assists. It was maybe two years later, when he finally told me the truth about who he worked for.”

“He recruited you?”

“Trust me, I was pissed he kept his affiliations a secret. I felt like he’d been working me for two years, trying to force me into a position where I had to say yes. But he explained it was all freelance work, and that I didn’t have to make any promises I didn’t want to keep, or sign my life away. I could take the jobs I wanted, reject the ones I didn’t, and I got to negotiate my price. That sounded like a good deal to me. It helped me put money away, and work towards paying off my loan faster.” His hazel eyes search mine for understanding. “I’m okay with whatever I did, LaReaux. Working with Kendall, I got to see how the other team leaders protected their teams.”

He bites into a piece of cantaloupe, and I watch him chew as I gather my thoughts. I drop my voice and ask, “Do Alex’s people know you also work for the competition?”

“There’s no loyalty within The Guardians, or Andor Reese. I learned that truth early on, and have always struggled with the recruiting requirement for MISTIC. I was scouting these amazingly talented fighters and setting them up for this life I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.” He continues, “And like I said, it’s a small world when it comes to mercenary work. Phoenix Foundation is well aware of my arrangement. They’ve found it useful over the years.”

I think about the way agents have looked at him. How he seems friendly with random people walking the halls. How everyone here seems nice. “I’m not the only person you thought was too good to join The Guardians, am I?”

“No, LaReaux. You are not. As much as I wish you’d never been brought into their orbit, I’m glad The League had other plans for you, because I had no idea how I was going to sabotage your MISTIC recruitment.”

He takes a final bite of his food, wipes his mouth, then gestures toward my tray. “You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

We discard our stuff in the trash and place the tray on top of the return cart. Wolfe is heading back to the Operations Center, and I have a meeting with Alexz.

I knock on Alexz’s door, shoving it wide open when he tells me to enter. If anyone’s waiting behind it to grab me, they’ll have to move fast. He’s sitting on the couch, his arm draped across the back of it. “Thea, thanks for coming.”

I look around the room and peek behind the door for threats. We’re the only ones here. “The message said we need to discuss something important.”

“We do. I want you to tell me everything you remember about your past.”

“That’s kind of random and personal, don’t you think?”

“Personal. Sure. Random, no. I track down people and items for a living and have plenty of resources to find whatever I’m looking for at my disposal, but I’d rather not resort to that with you. I’d like you to tell me.”

“Why?”

“I’m trying to get to know you and hearing it in your own words paints a better picture than words on a page.”

I sit in the closest chair, arms folded across my chest. “There’s not much to tell. Mom was a drunk. CPS didn’t approve, and thought my formative years would be best spent in the homes of assholes, which were located in crappy neighborhoods, surrounded by people who didn’t know how to keep their hands to themselves.”

“When did your mother start drinking?”

“A better question is, when didn’t she drink?” Looking down at my busted cuticles I say, “I don’t know. I guess sometime after the first car accident. I didn’t really understand until I was in elementary school. It’s all in my case notes.”

“What is?”

“That she was basically a functioning alcoholic. You’d never know she was even drunk if it weren’t for her loud and messy break ups, and only then because her boyfriends would yell about her being drunk.”

“Your mother was belligerent when she was drinking?”

“Yup. She’d come home from work screaming about not being able to trust anyone, and trashing where we lived, going through her boyfriend’s stuff, looking for proof. We’d get evicted, and have to start all over again.”

“Moving all the time had to be tough. Your teachers never intervened?”

“Mom was a disaster, but she always seemed to have a place lined up for us to stay and a job waiting for her. So no, my teachers didn’t intervene because they didn’t know there was a problem. Mom would be sober, and doing well, and then one day she’d be spiraling. Those episodes never lasted long, and nobody was ever suspicious of my home life. If she hadn’t of crashed at the Founder’s Day Parade, I’d never have ended up in the system.”

“Can you tell me what you remember about that day?” He asks, jotting down notes.

“Mom promised to take me to the parade. We drove into town and instead of pulling into a parking lot, she aimed straight for the crowd and crashed into a fire hydrant in front of the firehouse. Then she stumbled out of the car with her vodka bottle.”

I remember how shocked I was. Mom never let anyone see what was in her bag. That day, she didn’t care. “She sat her happy ass down on the ground and preceded to chug it like it was water. I tried to go to her to help, because I knew she was gonna get in trouble, but the cops wouldn’t let me. They put me in the back of one car, my mother in the back of another, and I went into an emergency placement home. I spent a week there before ending up in my first foster home, while my mother sat in jail. The judge ordered rehab and parenting classes.”

“The courts sent you back to her when she finished?”

“Like I said, mom was a functioning drunk. She was working. She paid for the damage to the fire hydrant and convinced them it was a one-time thing. CPS released me into her custody and we moved to Vegas. Rinse and repeat around different parts of Nevada, and you have my whole story.”

He puts his pen down and leans back in his chair. “Why did she stay in Nevada?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she liked the weather. Maybe there was some stipulation for her to remain in state after her arrest. I never asked.”

“When did you go back to Nags Creek?”

“Ummm… when I was around eleven.”

“You’ve mentioned Hailee’s first car accident. Tell me about that.”

“It was right after we left Louisiana. We stopped at this house in and she left me there for hours. I fell asleep locked in a closet. The next day, she told me we were going on an adventure, and we were hiking and camping our way to our next home. When I asked what happened to the car, she said she was in an accident and that we’d get a new one.”

He nods. “That would be the accident report that led everyone to believe the two of you died in a car crash. Was she badly hurt?”

“She had some back pain. We stopped a lot during our hikes, and when we got a new car, she couldn’t drive for long distances without a break.”

“Did she ever see a doctor about it?”

Instead of answering his question, I ask, “What does any of this have to do with anything? Are you sure you’re not a shrink? How is talking about my mom helping you get to know me?”

“It is, Thea. I promise this is all useful information. Besides, I get the feeling nobody ever asks you to recap your life with your mother. They read the file like you suggest and form conclusions. Hearing you talk about her, and watching your body language, it’s telling me a lot.”

“Oh yeah? What is it telling you so far?”

“I can see where you get your self-reliance and strength. Hailee grew up in Canyon Falls. It couldn’t have been easy for her to give up everything she knew and do this on her own.”

That’s nice of him to say. “I don’t know if mom ever saw a doctor right after the accident. Drinking seemed to be her medication of choice.”

“Was it always just the two of you?”

“Nah. Mom was a smoke show. She had plenty of boyfriends over the years.”

“Were any of them abusive? Did they drink, or cheat on her?”

“Mom had a knack for meeting the most boring guys in Vegas. Accountants, bankers, teachers. I think she even dated a cop. From what I remember, they were all shocked by her sudden mood swings. Like I said, she would usually be the one picking fights and breaking up with them.”

Alexz nods and says, “I’ll send agents to Nevada, to track Hailee’s movements, and do a deep dive into her time there.” He slides a piece of paper towards me. It’s the statement I wrote before they sent me to juvie. “I read your statement, Thea. I think Hailee meant to take you with her, but something happened that prevented her from doing so.”

I’m over this conversation. “Look Alexz, I appreciate you trying to give my mother the benefit of the doubt, but she doesn’t deserve it. She was messed up for a long time, okay, and she lied about staying sober for me and wanting me. I was just a stupid kid who believed those lies one time too many. It took until I was fourteen to finally come to terms with her not wanting me, and that pretty much tracks with all the other adults I’m related to.”

Standing, I ask, “Are we done?”

“We are.”