8. Echo #2
Before I could respond, my aunt appeared in the doorway with a tea tray.
“I thought you might want something warm to drink while you talk.”
My grandmother nodded her appreciation, then said, “Leave us. Meechie and I need to talk privately.”
Only she called me Meechie.
She hesitated, concern flickering across her face, before setting down the tray and withdrawing.
“Arland tells me you’re making very specific moves. That you believe your mother might still be alive.”
“You think I’m wrong?”
“I think you need all the facts before you start a war that could destroy everything we’ve built.” She reached for one of the cups of tea. “I don’t want to convince you not to do what you’ve set your mind to. But if you’re going to do it, there’s something you should know.”
The seriousness in her voice made me lean forward. “About my ma?”
She nodded.
“Your mother wasn’t just a regular society girl.” Her fingers traced the rim of her teacup. “Before meeting and marrying your father, she changed her name to Aurelia Samuels to escape the Collective’s reach.”
I kept my expression neutral despite the tightening in my chest.
“And before that?”
“She was born Soleme Fairchild.”
Fairchild.
Even I, who made it my business to know every player in Everwood’s power structure, had only heard whispers of that family.
“Fairchild,” I repeated slowly. “As in—”
“Yes,” my grandmother confirmed. “The Fairchilds are old blood in the Collective. Founding members. They operate above the structure that most of society sees. They don’t appear at functions, don’t hold official positions we can see, but their influence touches everything.
” She picked up her tea again, taking a small sip before continuing.
“Your grandfather knew who she was when Gerald brought her home. Only the three of us knew the truth.”
My mind raced, recalibrating everything I thought I knew about my mother.
“Why did she leave them?”
“She never shared the full story, even with your father. Only that she couldn’t stomach what her family represented anymore. The Fairchilds don’t forgive betrayal, Demetrius. When she left, she was dead to them. Until your father exposed her without knowing. His greed is why she had to go back.”
I brushed a hand down my face.
“They killed Gerald to punish her,” she went on. “And when she offered herself in exchange for leaving the rest of you alone, they took that deal.” Her voice grew softer. “Not out of mercy, but because having her back under their control was worth more than killing her children.”
“And now they’ve either killed her or still have her,” I said. “Why send her stuff to our doorstep? I can’t wrap my mind around that part.”
It had to be a cry for help.
“If she’s alive, she’s being held by the Fairchilds, not anyone else.”
She leaned forward, eyes intense.
“This is what I needed you to understand. You’re not just going up against the society that runs Everwood. You’re challenging a shadow power that most people don’t even know exists.”
I sat back, absorbing this new reality but still determined to do what I set out, even if it meant going against a family so powerful they operated behind the scenes of an already secretive organization. If my mother was alive, extracting her would be infinitely more complicated than I’d planned.
“Do they know?” I asked. “About us being her children?”
“The higher ranks of the Collective know you’re Aurelia’s children. Whether they know she was Soleme Fairchild…” She shook her head. “That, I can’t tell you. Your mother went to extraordinary lengths to bury that connection, and whether she liked it or not, so had her family.”
I stood, needing to move as my mind processed what was being explained to me.
“Anyone else in the family know about this?”
“No.” She watched me pace, her expression unreadable. “I’ve kept this secret for forty years, Demetrius. I’m only telling you now because you need to understand exactly what you’re walking into.”
I stopped at the window, looking out at the compound.
“I’m still moving forward with my plans,” I said finally, turning back to her.
My grandmother’s eyes were sad as she nodded.
“Be careful, Meechie. Some enemies are too powerful to confront directly.”
I kissed her forehead before leaving, the revelation heavy on my mind even hours later.
The city lights faded in the rear-view mirror as Oliver and I headed out of Everwood.
Neither of us had spoken much since leaving the compound.
Oliver drove, fingers tapping an irregular beat on the steering wheel, breaking the silence only to say, “They could easily fuck us over.”
“They’ll deliver what we need,” I replied, not wanting to have this conversation about trust again.
Forty minutes later, we turned onto a gravel road that cut through dense woods. The headlights carved a narrow path through the darkness.
Oliver slowed as we approached a clearing where an abandoned gas station stood with the warehouse I’d won at the auction a few feet from it. A single van was parked beside the gas station, its dark shape barely visible until our lights swept across it.
“Cut the lights,” I said, and Oliver complied, plunging us back into darkness.
As our eyes adjusted, I made out a figure perched atop the van.
Violet O’Sullivan, the wife of Finnegan O’Sullivan, sat cross-legged on the roof.
A handgun rested on her knee. Her face was shadowed, but I could feel her watching us.
I opened my door.
“Follow my lead and try not to say anything stupid. She’ll shoot you for less.”
Violet was the no-nonsense type.
We approached the van, and as we got closer, she became visible. I smiled as annoyed grey eyes met mine.
The O’Sullivan women were so goddamn interesting to me.
“Who’s this beauty?” Oliver asked, stepping forward as if he had a chance to woo the married woman.
Finnegan, who I hadn’t been expecting, rounded the truck with an unamused expression on his face.
“So, there’s two of you disrespectful mutherfuckas. Address my wife by her name or not at all.”
Violet smiled, and so did I.
“Don’t be so mean, sunshine,” she mused, jumping from the top and landing gracefully on both feet. “I’d kill him before you got the chance to, anyway.”
“Noted,” Oliver said, sounding more intrigued than anything. “Compliments are unwelcome.”
The O’Sullivan men and their territorial ways were even more interesting. Finnegan’s brother, Sean, didn’t like it when I flirted with his wife. Had called her my future and all. It’d been fun and games, though, my first time out of Everwood for an extended period of time.
“Always a pleasure, Mrs. O’Sullivan.”
She tossed me a look that only made me broaden my smile.
“Don’t start, Everwood ,” she said as Finnegan opened the back and revealed eight bolted crates. “As promised.”
Calling me by my city had become a thing amongst their circle, mostly because we were a no-touch zone for organized crime.
Violet produced a crowbar and I hoped in to pry one open, revealing an assortment of high-quality machinery.
“Forty-five caliber, clean serial numbers,” she said, lifting one for inspection. “The ammo’s in the bottom crates. Hollow points, just like you asked for.”
Oliver whistled low, picking up one of the weapons and checking its weight.
“Definitely worth the money,” he mumbled.
I hopped out the truck to have a word with Finnegan.
“Did my package make it safely?”
He nodded.
“All good. We took that route today.”
As an incentive for allying with me, I’d given them full control of the iron pipeline and righted some wrongs on their behalf.
Now, I-95 was theirs to move on how they saw fit, though I’d stepped on the Collective and killed an ally of theirs to get my hands on it.
I checked my watch.
“We need to move…” I caught eyes with Violet. “You set?”
She lifted an eyebrow, and I threw my hands up and backed away.
“Pleasure doing business with you, moonlight.”
Finnegan pointed his gun at me for using his nickname for her, and I chuckled.
“The fuck,” Oliver said, reaching for his before I stopped him.
He was just too easy to fuck with, but it wasn’t serious, and Finn wouldn’t pull the trigger.
This version of me is what they knew.
Finnegan tucked his gun with a smirk.
“Remember, I know your secret.”
I frowned.
The fuck did he have to bring that up for?
“Be easy,” I said over my shoulder after tossing the keys to the car we’d driven to him. “Your ride awaits.”
His laughter echoed into the night as we went our separate ways.
“Aw. You made friends,” Oliver cooed as we drove toward our unincorporated community.
There was a team there waiting to break down the crates and distribute them.
“Fuck you.”
He chuckled but didn’t push for more on what happened while I was away. I still hadn’t broken it all the way down to him.
Now wasn’t the time for stories about my movements.
We arrived in record time and made the switch, leaving the weapons with our team and taking the truck waiting for us.
The silence was comfortable as we made our way back to Everwood, until Oliver blurted a question out of nowhere.
“Do you think she’s alive?”
Now that I knew what I did, I had no fucking answer for that.
“Don’t know.”
He hummed.
“The package changed everything,” I said instead. “For me, that was reason enough to do this.”
That fucking package had arrived without warning. A large box containing our mother’s wedding bands, the silver locket our father had given her on their first anniversary, a pair of genuine ruby earrings, and a bunch of other shit I couldn’t imagine her parting with.
Things she wanted to give my future wife personally .
“If she is alive,” Oliver said carefully. “Extracting her won’t be simple. The Collective keeps its highest-value assets buried deep.” He paused. “We don’t even know where to start looking.”
This was where the Fairchild information would be crucial, but sharing it now would only complicate our immediate plans.
Oliver would want to pivot, to focus solely on finding our mother.
We needed to stick to the current strategy, establish our strength, create leverage, and then use it to extract information about her whereabouts.
Forever was the key. I needed the broker’s access.
As we approached the city limits, Everwood greeted us with empty streets.
We were approaching the intersection on Mercer Avenue when the pop of gunfire resounded, blowing out two of our tires.
I veered right and came to a hard stop before hitting a fucking tree.
Oliver was already moving, pulling his gun while scanning for the shooter’s position as best he could.
“No need,” I said, forcing myself not to laugh. “Taking two shots. How unnecessary.”
My brother was staring at me like I’d lost my fucking mind.
“What’s the best way to get an assassin’s attention?” I asked.
He frowned.
“Now’s not the time for a fucking lesson, Demetrius.”
“It’s the perfect time. We’re in a bullet-resistant vehicle and the sun’s about to come up. The shooter won’t take another shot. This was a warning for someone else. Now answer the fucking question.”
He took his time, a look of genuine concern marring his face.
“What did you mean by the shot was a warning for someone else?”
I smiled.
“The correct answer to my question will tell you.”
While he thought on it, I sent Joel a text for pickup.
“Ah,” Oliver said after a short while. “You hired another assassin to take a shot at us to get Forever’s attention.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“The best way to get on an assassin’s bad side was trying to kill her mark before she could.”
Bingo.
And at the gala tomorrow, I’d move forward with the next phase of my plan.
It was up from here.