Chapter 35
“You didn’t even try to show it?”
“Taylor, he’s nine years older than me. He’d travel and come back to my house. We never had a moment alone, and even if we did, back then, if he’d suspected anything, my brother would have killed him. I was just a kid.”
“He lived in your house? When you said he was a friend of your late brother, I thought you meant a neighbor.”
“Yes, he was a neighbor, but his family was dysfunctional. My mother took care of him. I think she was the only person who ever did, until, according to him, he started spending more and more time at our place. Then, right before I turned eleven, he came and stayed for good.”
“My God. What about his parents?”
“They never gave a damn. One day they just disappeared off the face of the earth, and that was that. He became ours.”
“‘He,’” she repeats. “You’re never going to tell me his name, are you?”
“Believe me, now more than ever, secrecy is essential for everyone’s safety.”
“All right, keep going.”
“I grew up seeing him as a brother, though that’s never what he was to me.”
“Why?”
“He had emotional scars, I think, from abuse and neglect by his family. He was quiet, withdrawn, never smiled. I heard my mom say he was a fighter, too. The opposite of my brother Martin.”
“And from what you’ve told me, we can completely understand why he was like that, right?”
“Yes. The truth is, we were siblings, but not really, you know? I could tell, from the moment I understood the concept of family, that he protected me just like Martin did, but he never let me truly get close to him. It was like having a stranger living with us.”
“A stranger you always loved.”
“Always. First as a protector, a friend who, even while ignoring me, was always there. Then, in my teens, I think around thirteen or fourteen, I realized my heart would race every time he came back from a trip.”
“Trip?”
“Yes. By then, my father had died”—I don’t explain how, because I hate remembering that in the first place—”and my mother was sick.
Strangely, we had more money. I think he left some life insurance behind.
Anyway, for most of the year, it was just the three of us: me, my bedridden mother with a nurse who didn’t stay overnight, and Martin, my brother. ”
“And your L would show up from time to time?”
“Yes. And when that started happening during my teenage years, I realized I no longer felt brotherly love. It was attraction.”
“I disagree it was just attraction. It wouldn’t have lasted this long if that was the case. I think it’s always been love, Jackie. Maybe now you’ve ‘fallen for him again,’ but all these years? I’d bet on love. Passion isn’t that selfless.”
“If it was love, there was nothing selfless about it. Sometimes I felt angry at him.”
“Why?”
“I knew he was around. He followed me, looked out for me, but he never came to be with me.”
“Do you believe things happen when they’re meant to?”
“Like fate?”
“Mhm.”
“Maybe,” I answer. “The fact is, he had the chance to run, and now it’s one of two things: I get my ‘forever,’ or when it’s all over…”
“All over what?”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, I can’t say.”
“All right, go on.”
“If he doesn’t love me back when this is all over, you have my word I’ll cut him out of my life forever.”
“Part of me is sad at the thought that a love like that might never have a real chance, but on the other hand, I have to agree with you, my friend. That one-sided love stuff is like buying a ticket to unhappiness.”
We talk for a few more minutes before I notice a woman, about thirty, walking in.
I smile at her and motion for her to wait while I finish with Taylor.
I glance quickly at the clock above the door and sigh, hoping she won’t take long because I’m starving and it’s almost closing time.
When I look back at the woman, after slipping my phone into my bag already slung over my shoulder, I frown.
She’s not dressed like someone here to ask for donations. In fact, she looks more like someone who’d make one—which I also doubt, since we usually only see donors by appointment.
“How can I help you?”
“For starters, it would help a lot if you stopped chasing my son’s father.”
“What?”
“Gonna play dumb?” she asks.
She digs into something in her designer purse, and I take a step back, only to breathe a sigh of relief when she pulls out an envelope.
I walk around the counter, pretending to pay attention to what she’s handing me, while moving toward the entrance as if interested in the package.
It’s clear as day the woman’s unhinged.
I pull the contents out.
I look at the photos, forcing the most cynical expression I can manage, when in reality my heart is pounding from pure nerves.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” I try to sound outraged, but really, I’m buying time, inching closer to the exit.
No, she’s not crazy. She’s here with a purpose.
“See for yourself. Lucifer and I have a son together. He abandoned him because of his obsession with you.”
I put on a shocked face.
“Oh my God! He never told me anything!” I keep lying, pretending to believe her, while my mind tries to process what’s happening.
Whoever sent her took the trouble to doctor the photos to make it look like Lucifer was holding a boy of about two years old in his arms.
“He didn’t tell you because he wants the best of both worlds. The family and the mistress.”
“Where is the child? Can I see him?”
“In my car. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to our son. Maybe then you’ll understand why you need to leave us alone.”
I look at her, and I can pinpoint the exact moment she realizes I don’t believe a word she’s saying. She moves slowly, reaching into her bag again.
This time, I don’t wait, I’m certain she’s going for a gun. I shove her with all my strength, catching her off guard.
“You might’ve fooled me, but you picked the wrong lie,” I shout as I run for the street. “He would never abandon a child.”
I couldn’t tell you how I managed to sprint across the entire parking lot and reach the sidewalk, but when I finally do, I almost collapse into my bodyguard’s arms.
“Someone came after me. She’s still inside!”