Chapter 18 #2
He’d asked her to dinner. He went with her to the theater.
He took her to McGillin’s of all goddamn places.
He snuggled with her on his couch in the firelight, kissing her, reveling in her moans as he caressed her soft curves.
He texted and called her. He crashed her vacation, made her breakfast, hiked with her, flirted with her, and had mind-bending sex with her in that freezing cold lake.
And through all that, he lied. Not actual lies, but it was just as she said.
The things he hadn’t told her, the truths he kept from her—they were the same as lies.
His gut turned sour as he faced his own choices.
He’d chosen to cut himself off from his friends and family.
He’d fought the therapists every step of the way, so he hadn’t processed his emotions.
He’d stayed laser focused on Phillipe’s death, so the pain never lessened, and his need to avenge Phillipe only grew.
By the time he met Rose, he was like a shriveled plant in the desert.
Her kindness and compassion were like water. Irresistible to a parched man.
That was the reason he invited her to dinner.
He should have changed course right then. Come up with an alternate plan. Instead, he’d chosen to lean into her soothing comfort, even while using her to avenge Phillipe. He’d wanted to have his cake and eat it too, and in his selfishness, he’d hurt her. Grievously. Possibly irreparably.
Phillipe would be ashamed of him.
No matter what the newspapers or Internal Affairs said, he was certain Phillipe had been a good man.
He saw it in the way Phillipe treated Samantha like she was precious.
He saw it in Phillipe’s endless patience with his kids.
He saw it in how Phillipe always minimized his role in any accomplishment and made sure everyone else involved received praise.
Phillipe never assumed someone was a criminal simply because they were a suspect.
If someone had committed the crime, Phillipe would try to understand the circumstances that drove them to make the choices they had.
Phillipe always looked for the good first, no matter what.
Kemper’s accusation last night, that he was obsessed with his own loss and blind to everything else, was a seed in his mind, growing buds and shoots.
The rebuke had the feel of an uncomfortable truth.
Aleksei had quit his job. He barely visited his mother and sister.
He couldn’t remember the last time he reached out to one of his friends.
He spent most of his free time alone, hiking, working out, going over old notes from the Moresco op, and keeping tabs on the Philly mob.
When Phillipe died, Samantha and the kids had been his lifeline.
When she cut him off, he’d cut himself off from the rest of the world.
Rose had said that her sister held on so tightly that, sometimes, it made it hard to breathe. Was that how he’d made Samantha feel? Had he been using her to hold on too tightly to Philippe, pinning her to that point in time so she was trapped, feeling like she was slowly suffocating?
The anger toward Samantha that he thought he’d previously let go suddenly dissipated, unraveling one of the tightest knots in his constantly constricted chest. Samantha had done what she needed to do to survive.
Just like he had been doing. But Samantha was stronger.
She had the strength to let go and move forward, and he’d stayed entombed in the past.
Was he truly seeking revenge for Philippe? Or did he want to bring Moresco down to assuage his own guilt?
He pushed the questions away. They were moot. The chess pieces were already in motion. He’d have to finish the game.
Step one was rest. His body had been in fight-or-flight mode since he’d spoken to Kemper.
He’d driven for hours. The hike and time in the lake with Rosemary felt like a week ago instead of yesterday.
Once they were settled in Virus’s cabin, they’d be safe, and he could sleep.
Virus wouldn’t be thrilled to see him. He wasn’t ever thrilled to see anybody, but this was the most secure place Aleksei could think of.
His body had literally sagged with relief when he spotted how close Trout Run and Ricketts Glen were on the map.
It had been a few years since his last visit.
He and Phillipe had come here to hunt. Virus had a woman in his life back then.
She had encouraged Virus to invite them.
She said it would be good for him to spend more time with friends.
The woman had been good for him. He was happier than Aleksei had ever seen him.
Virus hadn’t known Phillipe, but he’d been warm and welcoming.
Unfortunately, the relationship ended soon after.
Virus provided no details, and Aleksei had never been invited back again.
His friend was up here alone, fighting his own demons, but Aleksei hadn’t reached out once in the past two years—and now he was showing up unwanted and unannounced.
What Kemper said about him was dead on. He was so obsessed with his own suffering, he hadn’t spent one goddamn minute thinking about anyone else. He was a fucking asshole.
He could only hope Virus was in a forgiving mood.
As if called to the flesh by his thoughts, about fifteen feet in front of them, Virus stepped out of the shadows, an M4 pointed directly at them.