Chapter 21 Roderick Lennox #2
I didn’t hesitate with that. I destroyed it myself and made sure there was nothing left on it worth recovering.
Since then, I had been using a burner, and even with that, I kept my conversations limited.
At this point, trust was not something I could afford, and I wasn’t about to give anyone access to anything that could be used against me.
The news had been running nonstop, and even though my name hadn’t been mentioned, I knew better than to take comfort in that.
Marcus Hale was missing. Kush had disappeared after making bond.
Thomas Caldwell’s face had been all over every channel, and the questions surrounding him were getting louder.
Everything connected to those situations led back in my direction whether it had been said out loud or not.
That kind of silence never meant safety. It meant something was building.
I had seen enough cases unfold to understand how this part worked.
When everything went quiet around the person responsible, it was because the pieces were being put together before the move was made.
That kind of pressure did not come all at once.
It closed in slowly until there was nowhere left to go.
I was not about to sit here and let that happen to me.
I hadn’t when told my wife anything.
That decision sat heavier than I expected, but I made it anyway because there was no version of this conversation that would not put her in a position she didn’t need to be in.
The same went for A’Mii. My son did not need to carry this, and I wasn’t about to drag him into something that could end in a way I was still trying to avoid.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting out. Everything else could be figured out later.
The house was quiet when I stepped out this morning, and for a brief moment I paused near the door, looking back at the space I had built my life in.
There was no emotion tied to this moment the way there should have been.
It felt distant, like something I had already separated myself from before I physically walked away from it.
I turned and kept moving…
My driver was already waiting outside with the car running, and he stepped out as soon as he saw me, opening the door without asking questions. My luggage had already been placed in the trunk, and once I got inside, we pulled off immediately.
The ride to the airport felt longer than it should have.
I sat back and kept my eyes forward while my mind ran through everything at once.
None of the thoughts settled into anything complete.
They came and went too fast, jumping from one possibility to another, and the only thing that stayed consistent was the need to get out before anything caught up to me.
My eyes burned from lack of sleep, and I could feel the tension sitting in my chest no matter how I shifted in the seat.
I ran my hand over my face and tried to steady myself, but that feeling didn’t go anywhere.
It stayed right where it was, reminding me that I was not clear yet, and not even close.
When we finally arrived at the airport, I let out a breath and looked ahead at the entrance. Everything appeared normal. People were moving in and out, cars were pulling up, and nothing about the scene suggested anything out of place.
That helped, even if it wasn’t enough to fully settle my nerves.
I stepped out of the car and adjusted myself before grabbing my luggage, making sure my movements stayed controlled while I headed inside. I kept my expression neutral and my pace even, blending in with everyone else moving through the space.
There was no reason to stand out.
At the counter, I placed my luggage down and waited while the worker began processing it. She moved slower than I preferred, and I could feel that irritation start to build, but I kept it contained. Drawing attention now would only make things worse, so I stood there and let her finish.
When she finally took the luggage and cleared me, I felt a small shift in my chest because I was one step closer.
From there, I made my way toward security, moving with the same controlled pace while everything around me continued as usual.
People were talking, moving through lines, and going about their routines without any concern, and I stayed within that flow, not giving anyone a reason to look twice at me.
When it was my turn, I went through the process without any issues. There were no delays, no questions, and nothing that made me think something was off.
Once I cleared security and collected my things, I felt another layer of pressure lift from me. It wasn’t gone, but it was lighter now, and for the first time since this started, I felt like I might actually get out of this clean.
I adjusted my cuff and continued toward the terminal, letting myself breathe a little easier while I walked.
I decided to stop for a drink before boarding because I needed something to settle what was left running through me. The bar wasn’t crowded, which worked in my favor, and I took a seat, resting my hands lightly against the counter.
“Macallan,” I said. “Neat.”
The bartender nodded and moved to prepare it while I sat there, letting my eyes move over the space without focusing on anything in particular. Everything felt controlled again, and that alone was enough to keep me steady.
A minute later, the glass was placed in front of me.
I reached for it and lifted it slightly, but before I could take a sip, I heard a woman’s voice beside me speaking in a calm tone that I recognized immediately.
“Booking a flight out of an airport my family owns was a very poor decision.”
I turned my head slowly. When I saw Abeni Mensah sitting beside me, I froze for a second.
A wide-brimmed hat sat low on her head, angled just enough to shadow part of her face, and the diamond pin on the side caught the light every time she moved. She held a glass in her hand like she had been here the whole time, calm and composed, not a single thing about her out of place.
And just like that, I felt that sting hit my chest before I could react to anything else.
I hadn’t even noticed her sitting there.
For a moment, I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her, trying to understand how she got in front of me without me seeing it coming.
She gave me a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I can see that surprised you,” she said calmly. “There are a great many things you’ve never taken the time to understand about my family. We own damn near everything on this island.”
I pushed my hand against the counter and started to rise, but before I could fully stand, she spoke again without raising her voice.
“I would sit down if I were you.”
Something in her tone made me pause.
I looked around, and that was when I noticed the men. They were positioned throughout the area in a way that looked natural at first glance, but the longer I looked, the more obvious it became that they were watching everything… including me.
I lowered myself back into the seat slowly.
My heart was beating harder now, and I could feel the change in my body even as I tried to keep my expression calm.
Abeni turned slightly toward me, folding her hands in her lap as if we were having a casual conversation.
“I have been dealing with something personal,” she said, her voice calm and even. “Stage two breast cancer. It has been a very… humbling experience.”
I said nothing…
I watched her, waiting for where she was going with this.
“It changes your understanding of time,” she continued. “When you know that your life may not move the way you expected, you begin to see things differently. You begin to understand what it means for something to be taken from you slowly.”
Her eyes met mine then, and there was something behind them that wasn’t soft, even if her tone remained that way.
“I no longer find satisfaction in deciding who lives and who dies,” she said. “Not when I am being reminded that I do not control that outcome for myself.”
There was a pause between us, and I felt something in me tighten as I sat here listening.
“In a way,” she added, “sparing your life feels… appropriate. Perhaps if I extend that grace, it may find its way back to me.”
I swallowed, but I didn’t speak.
She held my gaze a moment longer, and then her tone changed just enough for the meaning to settle fully.
“But make no mistake,” she said. “You will answer for everything you’ve done.”
Before I could respond, two men stepped up beside me.
They were dressed in suits, and when they spoke, their tone left no room for misunderstanding.
“Roderick Lennox, you are under arrest for corruption and in question of the disappearance of Thomas Caldwell.”
I didn’t resist and I didn’t move while they pulled my hands behind my back and secured the cuffs around my wrists. The metal was pressed tight enough for me to feel the finality of it as I kept my eyes locked on Abeni.
She looked at me the same way she had from the moment she spoke to me, calm and certain, with that same quiet control that made it clear none of this was rushed and none of it was accidental.
“Everyone who has ever come against my family has paid for it,” she said lowly. “You are no different.”
I held her gaze as they pulled me to my feet and led me away. And in this moment, I understood something clearly.
This wasn’t a situation I could move out of anymore.
This was the end of it.