Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHRISTIAN
A day and a half after setting off for Greece, Dad’s jet lands late on Monday afternoon in torrential rain and winds that buffet the plane as it slows, then stops.
I glance over at my father. Deep lines score his forehead, and the dark circles beneath his eyes make him look older than his sixty-two years.
I shift my gaze to Xan. He looks tired too, but there’s an almost unhinged glint in his eye.
To get so close to catching up with my rapist uncle only to miss him by a few hours has hit all of us hard, but Xan most of all.
He’d wound himself up to finally getting his hands on his biological father and ending him, and I imagine once he gets home and falls into Imogen’s arms, he’s going to crash hard.
The search continues, and the net is closing in.
It’s only a matter of time before we get our hands on George.
No one can run or hide forever, not with the resources afforded to us by The Consortium.
It’s clear now that he’s been using small islands to hide out in for a few days or weeks at a time.
Those without CCTV or, in many cases, internet connectivity.
Now we have evidence of that, we can narrow the search.
I’m confident that, next time, he won’t get away.
Dad’s phone buzzes. He slides it from his pocket, then sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a second.
“What’s up, Dad?”
He puts his phone away. “A deal I’ve been working on for months needs my attention. Oscar has asked me to call into his office to sign some papers before I head home.”
Oscar is Dad’s lawyer. He’s worked with our family for years. If he says it’s urgent, then it is. “Does it have to be you?” I won’t lie, I’m worried. I’d rather he went straight home and got some sleep.
“I suppose not.”
“Then, it’s settled. I’ll go.”
“No,” Xan cuts in. “I’m second in command. I’ll do it.”
I shake my head. I’m as anxious to get home to Grace as he is to see Imogen and baby Sasha, but I’m as worried about Xan as I am about Dad. “I’ve got this. Go and see Imogen, kiss your son, and put him to bed.”
A momentary flash of relief steals over his face. “If you’re sure.”
“Positive. It won’t take me long.” I message my driver and tell him to come and pick me up. “I’ll wait here for Dawson and Marshall. You guys go.”
Dad rests a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you, son.”
I nod. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll update you tomorrow.”
I wait for them to leave, then call Grace. Just hearing her voice soothes me, and I wasn’t aware until now I needed soothing.
“Hey, have you landed?”
“Yeah. I have an errand to run for Dad, so I’ll be a little delayed. Wait up for me?”
“Of course.” She pauses. “How are you all doing?”
“I’m okay. Dad and Xan… not so much. They were sure we had him. To have him slip through our fingers is gutting.”
“No one can run forever.”
I smile. “I had that exact thought a few minutes ago.”
“Christian?”
“Yeah?”
“When you get home, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Kind of.”
“Want to talk to me now? I’m waiting for Dawson to bring the car to the airfield.”
“It’ll wait. I’d rather do it face to face.”
“Should I be worried?” I laugh, but when Grace doesn’t, hell yeah, I’m worried.
“Have you ever done something where your intentions were valid, but over time, you come to regret it?”
Yes. Keeping the truth of Nexus’s collapse from my family.
It hasn’t ever sat well with me to outright lie to my father in particular, but to my siblings, too.
I relied on the knowledge they’d never question me, never ask what happened or why the HSE issued a no-fault report.
They’d accepted that I’d handled the situation, and that was all they needed to know.
“I have.”
“What was it?”
There have been several times over the last few months I’ve wished I could unburden myself, but I’m not the kind of man to go to therapy.
Maybe it’s time I unburdened myself to my wife.
Even if she judges my actions harshly, there’s a good chance this slab of guilt will crumble once I tell her what happened.
If I can’t tell the woman I love the truth, who can I tell?
“Remember the building that collapsed? Nexus.”
Her breath hitches. “Yes. I asked you about it twice, and you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“That was then.”
“And now you do want to talk?”
“I do, yes. I’m not proud of what I did, but I acted for the right reasons.”
“To protect your family,” she whispers.
“Yes, and myself, but mostly, I did it to protect the family of the couple who died. I’m not sure if you know, but they had two children, and I hated the idea that those kids would think differently of their parents if they knew what really happened.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“It’s complicated. Like you, I’d rather tell you in person.” A car door slams, and I peer out of the window. “Dawson’s here. I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later, I promise.” I hang up and dart down the steps to my car.
I’ve set the wheels in motion now. There’s no going back, and the best thing is that weight I’ve carried on my shoulders for almost a year already feels lighter. Besides, who knows. Once I’ve told Grace, maybe I’ll find it easier to finally tell my family the truth.
It looks as though tonight will be a night of confessions.
The question on my mind is what could Grace possibly have to share with me? I guess I’ll soon find out. There’s nothing she could say to me that would make me love her any less than I do, and that’s what I plan to tell her as soon as I get home.
“Looks like an accident ahead, sir.”
I shift my position and peer through the front windshield. Flashing lights illuminate the cabin, and there are traffic cones splitting the lane.
“Can we divert?”
“Let’s see if we can get around it first,” Dawson says. “A traffic officer is heading this way. If we can’t get through, I’ll turn around.”
“Okay.”
The officer taps on the window, and Dawson rolls it down a few inches to keep out the rain. Water pours off the officer’s hat as he dips his head.
“Good evening, sir.” He glances over at Marshall, then at me in the back. “There’s been an accident up ahead, but it shouldn’t be too much longer, and we’ll have it cleared.”
“Anyone hurt?” I ask.
“A few bumps and bruises. Car’s a write off, though.”
“How much longer are we talking?” Dawson asks. “Is it better for us to find another route?”
“Probably best to wait. I estimate five minutes or so to clear the road.”
“Okay, thanks.”
As Dawson closes the window, the traffic officer tosses a small, silver object inside the car. Smoke instantly fills the cabin.
“What the f—”
I reach for the door handle, but it’s too late. As I lose consciousness, I press a button on the side of my watch. The last thing I see is a blinking red light before darkness consumes me.