Chapter 34 Liza
LIZA
“Liza? Where are you?” Dad’s panicked voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. He didn’t often lose his cool, so when he did, I noticed.
“I’m in the bathroom, Dad. It’s okay.” My voice cracked on the lie. Everything wasn’t okay. It would never be okay again.
Castro was alive.
I’d replayed those words in my mind over and over again, but even hearing them in my own head, in my own voice, somehow, I was struggling to believe it.
He was supposed to be dead, but he’d pulled some kind of fucking Houdini act.
He’d faked his own death and walked out of the hospital alive, unbeknownst to everyone involved in his medical care.
No proof, no trail. Nobody saw anything? It must have been a cover-up.
And all I could think was… what the fuck?
I couldn’t sleep, could barely eat, knowing that Castro was waiting to strike at any given moment.
But he wasn’t impetuous. He didn’t act without forethought.
Deep down, I knew he was smarter than that.
Everything he did was calculated and perfectly timed.
He wouldn’t move until the most advantageous moment—advantageous for him.
My parents had been made fully aware of the situation as soon as we’d received the letter. Despite my pleas for any other solution—I was even willing to consent to packing heat—Ty had insisted that I stay with my parents while he tried to get to the bottom of everything with his dad’s help.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have faith in him. He wanted this to be done as much as I did. I only wanted to be a part of the solution.
My own father hadn’t let me out of his sight for the last twenty-four hours. He’d even insisted I take his place in bed with Mom while he sat guard by the front door.
All night long.
Every night.
He got a bit of sleep during the day, but Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, and he’d consumed so much coffee that there was a good chance he would drop dead from a cardiac arrest, or—and this was the preferable option—possibly just fall over asleep at any given moment.
My father’s lack of a good night’s rest was just another thing on a long list I wanted Castro punished for.
My parents were scared, and with good reason. Castro was the perfect combination of psychotic and genius. He knew what he wanted, and unfortunately, that appeared to be me.
I washed my hands and walked into the living room, interrupting an intense conversation between my parents. They stopped speaking and stared at each other.
“Liza’s back, so why don’t you run it by her?” Mom was using her I-told-you-so tone as she gestured in my direction. “I bet I know what she’ll say, though.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. I didn’t have to be a genius to know that they were arguing over whatever this was.
And I hated it. Partly because I always hated when they argued, and partly because, undoubtedly, this argument had something to do with me.
They hadn’t talked about anything other than me since Ty dropped me off here.
Dad turned to face me, his five o’clock shadow making him look ten years older. “Sweetheart, your mom and I”—argument or not, they were coming together as a unit—“think it might be best for the three of us to pack some things and leave town for a while.”
He held up a hand before I could respond. There wasn’t a person in this room who didn’t know what my answer would be. I wasn’t a damn runner. I shook my head and answered anyway. “Absolutely not.”
His voice softened as he continued. “I know you don’t want to leave Ty, but if we distance ourselves from Presley Acres, we can go somewhere Castro won’t know where to find you. And it’ll give Ty time to get this all handled.”
Why did he have to be reasonable and logical? I didn’t want reason and logic. As a matter of fact, I freaking hated those things right now.
I sighed and plopped onto the sofa. “Hiding won’t do any good, Dad.
” If I honestly thought it would help, I’d have done it already.
I hated being the reason people were in danger.
Loathed it. The sad fact was, no matter where I went, Castro would catch up to me.
“My identity has been hidden my entire life, yet somehow Castro still found me.” Of course, he had money, and he apparently used it to employ a crack group of experts who assisted him in all his nefarious endeavors.
I had no doubts about his ability to hire people with mad tracking skills. “If I run, he will find me.”
Mom sat beside me and gently took my hand in a show of solidarity as she looked up at my dad. “She’s right, Scott.”
Dad turned his back to us, punching his fists on his hips.
I’d never seen him so worried in my entire life.
As a lawyer, he faced any number of stressful situations on a weekly basis.
This was different, though. His only daughter’s life was at risk.
It made sense that he was desperate to find a solution.
Of course, my parents weren’t the only ones who were scared.
The maniac was after me. I was anxious and felt like I had no control over my own life, because right now, I didn’t.
Now that all my memories had come flooding back to me, I was terrified.
It hadn’t escaped my notice just how unhinged Castro was.
As a young child, he had showed signs of being unstable.
His mental health had only declined when he grew older and hit puberty.
Now that he was an adult with financial means, Castro was capable of anything.
The guy didn’t have a moral compass to keep him in check.
Whatever the opposite of a moral compass was, that’s what he had.
An anchor, maybe. A moral anchor, dragging him down into the deep. Fitting.
Dad huffed and slowly walked to the couch.
He knelt in front of me, steadying himself as he lowered by grabbing my knees.
“Liza, I’m worried about you. Are you okay?
” His voice caught in his throat, and he took a few seconds to compose himself.
“Mentally? Emotionally? You’ve been through so much, honey, and your mother and I can’t bear to see you wrestling with the memories of your past.”
Mom squeezed my hand. “We had no idea what you witnessed as a child. It’s unfathomable. Now that you remember it all, we’re worried that it could have a negative effect on you. PTSD, possibly.”
My parents were as good as gold, and seeing them this upset broke my heart.
“I love you both and appreciate your concern. I’ve had my memories back for weeks.
Yes, it hurts, and it’s taking me some time to process everything.
The more I remember, the deeper the wound.
Honestly, though, I’d rather remember my past than forget it.
My memories of that time are just as much a part of me as my memories from the age of four until now. ”
I loved my parents with every ounce of my being, but I also still loved my biological parents and grieved over losing them so tragically.
At night, when the house was quiet and I had nothing to distract me, I closed my eyes and racked my brain for tiny details about them.
My mother had had a beautiful voice and would sing me to sleep each night while she gently rubbed my forehead with her fingertips.
My father had been a strong alpha, and he’d always made me feel safe.
Even in the middle of important meetings, he used to stop everything to lift me into his lap and listen intently as I showed him the flowers I’d gathered in the forest. I remembered how he held me closely when I was scared, and told me stories of distant lands and incredible creatures.
Fresh waves of grief punched me in the gut as I tried to come to terms with the years I’d missed out on by not having them in my life. One thing was for certain, though. They’d loved me, and I still sensed that love deep down in my bones.
“I’m lucky enough to have had two sets of parents who adored me and treated me so well.” I wrapped my arms around my mother and father. “I don’t ever want to forget that.”
A knock at the door had us all jumping. We really were wound up tightly. Then, I remembered that Ty had texted half an hour ago, letting me know that he was coming to pick me up and take me home. I’d been about to tell my parents when they’d started talking about running.
Dad stood and walked to the door, his shoulders pulled back and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. If it wasn’t Ty, I pitied the person at the door.
Ty walked past my father, his shoulders slumped, body stiff and dejected. I could immediately detect the defeat in his stance. “How is everyone?”
I went over and hugged him, then stretched onto my toes to kiss him on the cheek. “We’re tired. And stressed. You?” I said it with a smile. I didn’t want him to think we were totally defeated. Not yet.
“Same.” Twining his fingers through mine, he led me back to the couch. Mom moved to a chair that faced the sofa, and Dad took the other chair.
“What did you find out about the coroner?” I turned to look at Ty, hopeful that he’d figured out where the bastard was hiding or had any new news.
Ty pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as he let out a soft sigh.
“I wish I had better news, but at this point, we’re still trying to hunt Sylas down.
The good news is that we know where, in a broad sense, to find him.
He’s a gambling addict with a preference for the poker table, so Dad has his best men searching regular and underground casinos in the region. ”
His best men. Ty’s voice held faith I didn’t share.
Dad sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Gambling, huh? Interesting.”
“How so?” Ty asked.