9. Blue
9
BLUE
I startle awake after a nightmare, bolting upright, gasping for breath. I still feel his hands on me. Hear him telling me exactly how he d hurt me before killing me. The image that has me shooting up in the bed, though, is that of Wyatt Hoxton, his eyes gouged out, his own hunting knife buried in his gut just before he crashed to the floor dead.
My hands slide to my throat, and I feel the collar there. Hoxton s words repeat. How he d decapitate me to take the lock. How casually he d said it.
I shudder with sudden cold. I came closer than ever to dying a brutal death last night. Closer even than when I d run into Hoxton that night at my house.
I have a flash of Zeke breaking the door down just before I passed out. I see him blinding Hoxton with those stake-like nails. He was so controlled. So outwardly calm. He didn t hesitate, not once. I knew he was capable of murder from day one. But last night, I understood it on a different level.
The things I m feeling for him now, after last night, they re confusing. I should be afraid, shouldn t I? Shouldn t any man capable of such violence strike terror in me? The thought of him, though, doesn t do that. Instead, it s almost as though some warm kindling is lit inside my chest. I shake my head. There is something wrong with me.
I look to the side of the bed he d slept on. He d stayed with me when I told him I was afraid. I m not sure how long, but it doesn t matter. He hadn t left me alone when I d needed him.
I push the covers off moving more slowly than usual as I get out of the bed, my body aching, and go to the bathroom. Every step is painful. I relieve myself, then, after washing my hands, I force myself to take a good, long look in the mirror.
My face is bruised, the side of my lip is cut, but my body, hell, my body is covered in deep red welts. I remember how gently Zeke had taken care of me, cleaning and bandaging the worst after washing me.
I d washed him, too.
And then I d asked him to make love to me.
With a groan, I wrap a towel around myself and make my way to my room where I get dressed, pulling on my jeans and a sweater. I need to keep it together now. Last night, I came dangerously close to losing it. Last night, after Zeke brought me back, I let myself be vulnerable. I can t do that. Not now. Coming apart thinking about what happened to me won t help me and it certainly won t help Wren. It won t stop my father, or the man Hoxton was working for, from coming for me. Wren needs me and I can t waste time processing. So, I do what I ve learned to do well over the last few years. I shove all those thoughts and feelings into a box, lock it up tight and bury it deep. I ll deal with those things later.
Or never.
The house is quiet as I make my way downstairs. The clock in the hallway tells me it s after eight at night. I slept the whole day. My stomach growls. I walk into the kitchen absently thinking I need to call Wren, stopping abruptly when I see my phone on the kitchen counter.
My phone was in my clutch last night. That clutch was on the floor of the car.
Along with the phone was the flash drive.
I pick up the phone which is lying on a note scribbled on a piece of paper from Zeke telling me he ll be back soon.
Shit.
There s only one way he d have gotten that phone and that would be if he found my purse in the car. And if he found my purse then he has the flash drive and he knows I lied to him.
Will he be angry?
I shake my head. He had it last night. He d have gotten to it before he got to me.
Before I have a chance to think about what to do next, I hear a door and footsteps. I spin to find Zeke walking into the kitchen. He was here all along? Where did he come from? The sound didn t come from the direction of the study.
He pauses at the threshold of the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed as he takes me in. His gaze moves to the phone in my hand. He knows that I know he has the drive. He wanted me to know.
How are you feeling? he asks, walking toward me.
Like I ve been run over by a truck. His eyes search my face and the look inside them feels different. Awkward, almost. Something has changed between us.
But I guess witnessing someone murder the man who was torturing you will do that.
You found your phone I see. It s a statement of fact and I don t have to respond as he moves to the refrigerator. In silence, I watch Zeke take out cold cuts and bread and set them on the counter. He glances at me as he finds a plate then proceeds to make a sandwich.
He walks to the fridge again, opens the door. Mustard or mayo?
Mustard.
He nods, takes the mustard and smears it onto the bread. He then pushes it in front of me.
Sit, he says, filling a large glass with water and setting that, too, in front of me.
I climb up onto one of the chairs at the counter. My stomach growls but there s an elephant in the room and I m not sure I can swallow until it s out in the open. I turn to him and open my mouth to speak but he shifts his gaze to my jaw and, with the knuckles of one hand, tilts my face a little. I guess he s assessing a bruise. His fingers close over my chin, and he turns me to face him again.
The flash drive, that s the last lie you re telling me. Is that clear?
My heart thuds against my chest, a sensation of a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings in my stomach.
I—
Is that clear?
I nod, unable to formulate words.
Good. Then that s finished. Eat.
I drop my gaze to the sandwich, nod, a sense of relief washing over me. It s finished. That s it. He wants truth. I can give him that. I owe it to him.
Zeke watches me as I devour the sandwich. I m starving.
Should I make you another one? he asks as I swallow the last bite.
I shake my head. No. Well, maybe in a minute. I study his face, take in the bruise along his jaw. We sit in silence, and it feels right. The quiet suits us.
I shift my gaze to his lap, take in the bruised knuckles of his hands. I study them, touch them. I feel him shudder when I do but he doesn t pull away. These same hands that took such care of me committed the most violent of acts last night.
His right hand is his dominant hand. I pick it up, hold it, turn it over to study it. To trace the lines, feel their strength.
My gaze moves to his and I find him watching me, those wolf-like eyes intent on me. Butterfly wings go wild in my stomach again.
Why did you come for me? I ask, feeling a loneliness more acute than anything I have ever felt, a longing for something I cannot name as I ask my question. Because why did he come for me? He could have left me. Walked away. Problem solved. He had the flash drive. If I were dead, and I would be now if it wasn t for him, I know that, then he could go back to his life and forget the little blip that was the catastrophe of me.
That s a stupid question.
Not really. I shrug a shoulder, pull my hands away and push my hair behind my ears.
I recall asking him to make love to me.
Love.
Love.
God. What was I thinking? I mean, think about it. You found the flash drive. The files that are missing are on that drive. You know it. Why else would I have it? So, you don t come for me, you let Hoxton have me, do what he wants to me?—
A low growl resonates from his chest. I m not sure it s a conscious sound he s making. His hands turn to fists. Hands of a killer. My avenger.
I look up at him. Why did you come, Zeke?
What do you want me to say, Blue?
I study his eyes. They re beautiful. So beautiful. So much depth in those eyes. So many layers to this man.
My heart races. Can he hear it? Is his racing too?
You asked me to make love to you last night, he says. I shift in my seat, pick up my dish to slip away. He doesn t let me, though. You asked me to make love to you, Blue.
I clear my throat. My cheeks are burning.
Look at me, he says. I shake my head, so he takes my chin and turns my face up to his.
You need to keep something in mind with me. I come with baggage. Too much of it. I can t make love . You need to make sure you remember that. Do you understand?
I can t hold his gaze, not when he sees me because he does see me. He sees right into my heart.
And he s letting me know that his is off limits.
Do you understand? he repeats.
I nod, slip out of his grasp, and take my dish to the sink. Keeping my back to him, I switch on the water so he can t hear me sniffle as I try hard, so fucking hard, not to cry. What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck am I thinking? What could a man like him want with a woman like me?
You mentioned Girard, he says once I ve shut off the water. I search in the cabinets for a towel. I find a stack and wipe my face quickly as I steel myself to face him.
It s a struggle to meet his gaze. I m embarrassed. I ve just been rejected, and we both know it.
Blue?
Girard was his boss. He called Hoxton twice. He was supposed to take me to him, but he was buying time. Waiting for his brother to come so they could take what they thought they were due before delivering me to Girard. That hardens me. That memory. My impending rape.
The doorbell rings and I startle. Zeke must be expecting it, though, because when the front door opens, he simply stands and takes his phone out.
Zeke? It s Jericho. I recognize his voice.
In here.
Jericho and Robbie enter the kitchen. Robbie says hello then asks for a glass of water. Jericho studies me, but he doesn t speak. I m very aware of the thick, ugly scar on my face and wish I d put on some makeup because he is openly taking in the damage while Zeke gets Robbie the water.
I bite the inside of my cheek and remind myself that the bruises he can see are the least of my troubles.
Let s talk in the study, Zeke says. Blue and I will be in in a minute.
Robbie takes the cue. Jericho spends another moment studying me with those strange eyes of his, eyes that seem, like his brother s, to see right through me. I realize I m holding my breath only when he finally walks away.
Once we hear the study door close, Zeke speaks.
Wren will be moved to the Margaret Stone Center in the morning. You should probably call her and talk to her. Rudy already knows.
Tomorrow?
It s what you wanted, isn t it?
Yes, it s just fast. I guess I didn t expect it to go that fast.
I pulled some strings.
Thank you, I finally say because I can t understand this man. I can t make heads or tails of his words, his actions, all the contradictions.
His kindnesses. His brutality.
He nods, takes out his phone and pushes a button. A moment later, Rudy answers. I m confused. Did he take Rudy s contact information from my phone and save it into his? Why?
Rudy, it s Zeke and Blue, he says.
We ve been waiting for your call, Rudy says.
How are you? How s Wren? I ask, crossing the room to stand beside Zeke.
We re busy packing, aren t we, Wren?
I guess he s got the phone on speaker too. We re going on a trip, Wren tells me. Are you coming too?
Zeke gives a single shake of his head. I wouldn t miss it, I say with all the cheer I can muster. Zeke admonishes me with a look, but I shrug my shoulders.
Rudy says they have a swimming pool.
Do they? I form my lips into a smile to make the words sound more upbeat than I feel. I ll have to remember to buy a new bathing suit.
I listen to Wren chatter on a few more minutes. She s distracted with packing I guess but I m glad. It s better if she s excited about the move. I expected her to be agitated and upset, but Rudy is good like this.
A moment later, Rudy tells me the phone is off speaker.
How is she? I ask.
She s good. Truly. A little confused but I ve been talking up the swimming pool. Can I talk to you alone, Blue?
I glance at Zeke who stands up. Come into the study when you re finished.
I will.
I wait until he s gone and switch the phone off speaker. We re alone.
He offered me double my salary to go with Wren, Blue.
What?
One lump payment. It s already in my account. I mean, I guess he wasn t really asking, just deciding. You know I d go anyway. You and your sister, I know you don t like to talk about what happened, but I love you both, you know that. He didn t have to do that. I told him as much, but I thought you should know.
Thanks, Rudy.
And there is one other thing.
What s that?
I saw the paperwork from Margaret Stone Center. He s listed himself as the main point of contact for Wren.
What?
You re listed too, but I thought it was weird.
Why would he do that?
Rudy doesn t have that answer though. Listen, I need to go and help Wren wrap things up. She s packed and unpacked three times now, he says, and it makes me smile. That s a little bit of the old Wren I recognize. I ll call you tomorrow once your sister is settled, okay?
Thanks, Rudy. And thanks for telling me those things.
I can almost see him nodding. Goodnight, Blue.
Night.
I disconnect the call and stand there for a long minute thinking. Why would he pay Rudy so much? And why would he put himself down as a point of contact? Once this is over, once we re safe, Zeke won t be a part of our lives anymore. This complicates things. Is it just a way for him to be sure I ll do as I m told?
I hear a door open down the hall. Blue? Zeke calls out.
On my way.
I tuck my phone into my back pocket and hand Zeke his once I get to the study. Jericho and Robbie are seated on the couch. Zeke gestures to one of the armchairs and he sits on the one opposite mine.
I hope you re not hurt too badly, Blue, Jericho says.
Thanks. I m sorry Isabelle was hurt because of me.
It sounds like my brother made sure Hoxton paid the price.
I glance at Zeke who is quiet.
You ve lied to us at least once before, Blue. I expect honesty going forward. Jericho doesn t beat around the bush.
Already handled, Brother, Zeke says, sounding bored.
I m glad to hear it, Jericho says. I ll be very honest myself. I don t like my brother risking his life to save a stranger. One who tried to blackmail him.
I—
I don t know what to make of you just yet and I hope, for your sake, you will be trustworthy going forward, he adds.
Enough, Jericho, Zeke says. I told you. It s been handled.
Jericho puts his hands up. Just want to be sure Blue here knows where I stand. I won t let my brother destroy himself for a stranger.
I said enough.
If you two are finished arguing, Robbie starts, breaking into what is quickly becoming a very awkward situation. I present the elusive Antoine Girard.
Robbie turns his laptop around and we all look at the face on the screen. It s a man who appears to be in his late forties, early fifties. He s of average height and build, his expression neutral enough, there s nothing that stands out about him. It doesn t look like he knows the photo is being taken. Zooming back out, I see the one thing that sets him apart from others. The pinned sleeve of his coat.
He s the one-handed man who was at my house that night three years ago.
Antoine Girard is fifty-two years old, unmarried and childless. He s also the last remaining male of the Girard family. His younger brother passed away a year ago. That brother s son will eventually inherit the Girard fortune upon his uncle, Antoine s, death. It stands to be said it is quite the inheritance. You ll notice the coda?
He hits a button, and another photo fills the screen. This one is of Girard walking toward a waiting sedan and the way he s turned his head, the coda tattoo is visible on his neck.
That is taken outside the airport. Mr. Girard flew into New Orleans late last night.
At that, my heartrate doubles.
Where is he now? Zeke asks.
That is perhaps the most interesting part of this. He is apparently a guest of Councilor Augustus. He hits another button, and we can see the heads of two men in front of what looks to be a guesthouse on the grounds of a large mansion. Six men encircle the two facing one another.
Robbie sets the laptop aside, stands and pours himself a whiskey from the liquor tray against the wall.
Gentlemen? He gestures to the whiskey before his gaze falls on me. Excuse me. Blue?
No, thanks, I say, and Zeke also declines. He pours for Jericho and resumes his seat.
Are you ready for your history lesson?
Get to it, Robbie. I don t pay you by the hour.
Touché. He sips his drink.
What is most interesting about Girard staying at Augustus s guesthouse is that about twenty-five years ago, the two became bitter enemies. But let me start at the beginning. The coda, a musical symbol, signifies, as you may remember from music lessons at school, a finale or conclusion. The Girard family adopted it as their insignia two centuries ago. Turns out there has been more than one musical protégé birthed by Girard genes.
Robbie starts to go into detail about those protégés until Zeke cuts him off.
Can we keep the history lesson to this century?
Of course. I mentioned before that the family was part of IVI. The seat of the family home is in New England, outside of Boston, in fact. They were quite well connected for a time and a powerful family within The Society. In fact, the Augustus and Girard families were, at one point, close. Antoine and Lucius were great friends, Lucius Augustus that is. These names, Robbie shakes his head. Antoine and Lucius are only about three months apart in age. They went to the same schools, attended the same social events, dated the same girls, etcetera etcetera. From all outward appearances the two were best of friends and maybe they were for a time, although personally, I doubt it. Too much envy between the families. For as far back as I could find, there seems to be an almost incestuous relationship between them. Honestly, I wouldn t be surprised if DNA proved them to be related.
What happened if they were the best of friends.
Here is a photograph from commencement of Antoine and Lucius, who graduated Harvard University together. Lucius studied law, obviously as he is a Councilor of your great Tribunal. Antoine studied music. You ll notice Antoine is… intact at this ceremony.
Robbie brings up a photo of the two men with caps and gowns, each holding their diploma. I assume the people around them are their parents and maybe siblings. One particularly beautiful woman stands out in the group. She s striking, her beauty appearing almost otherworldly in its perfection. She has an arm linked through each of theirs.
Who s the woman? Zeke asks, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
That is Ms. Ines Delphine. Now Mrs. Ines Delphine-Augustus.
Councilor s wife?
Robbie nods. After the boys graduated from Harvard, Lucius would be groomed to take over his father s place on New England s Tribunal. He d be the youngest to ever hold that position. Turns out his father was ill and so The Tribunal moved rather quickly. Antoine was the latest piano protégé produced by the Girard family. He would go on to have an enviable career in that world. Honestly, I m not a classical music man so I don t know much about it. But I do know one thing. Can you guess what it is?
You need both hands to play, I say.
Robbie points to me. Bingo. The boys and their girlfriends, Ines, who was Lucius s, he pauses to look through a few pieces of paper. Wilhelmina, who was Antoine s girlfriend, he says, showing us a photo of the two women together. Wilhelmina, although attractive, withers beside Ines. Both Wilhelmina and Ines were from good families within The Society, so our boys were doing well.
Can we speed this along? Zeke asks.
The boys graduation trip, a month-long yachting extravaganza of European ports, parties, gambling, drinking, drugs, you name it, well, it did not end well. Wilhelmina broke off relations with Antoine about three weeks in and flew home when Lucius and she discovered Antoine and Ines in bed together. According to ugly rumors within The Society, the affair had been going on for some time. Have I mentioned Lucius has a temper?
The three returned one week later and Lucius s father soon passed away. Lucius stepped into the role of Councilor at the tender age of twenty-two. You boys know The Tribunal wields all the power within The Society. For a time, it seemed as though he d forgiven his best friend and his fiancée, but what is it they say? Revenge is a dish best served cold. Three years later, Ines and Lucius were married in a proper Society wedding. Her atonement came in the form of fire.
What do you mean? I ask, engrossed in this story.
He picks up the laptop and scrolls until he gets to the photo he wants and when I see it, I gasp, jerking back in shock and covering my mouth.
He branded the back of her neck. I stare. I ve never seen anything like it.
He branded her, Zeke says.
I turn to him. He sounds calm. Like this isn t a shock to him. Neither he nor his brother seem surprised.
Apparently it was quite the show. Public, not only for the men to attend but for all members of The Society which I believe is unusual, isn t that right? Robbie asks.
Zeke nods. Her punishment for humiliating him.
What happened to Girard?
He was at the wedding. He d have been at the marking ceremony.
This is a thing? A marking ceremony? I ask.
Zeke turns to me. I ll explain it to you later.
That night, rather than a wedding night, a special counsel was called in. The Tribunal met. Girard was arrested, Robbie says. He was accused of stealing from IVI. Irrefutable evidence was brought forward, and Antoine Girard was found guilty. That same night, within a few hours of having been arrested, Antoine s punishment was carried out. He took what did not belong to him. Whether any money was ever stolen or not, we ll likely never know. Here, too, an exception was made, and a single woman stood witness to the sentence being carried out.
Ines.
I will spare you the video footage. All such matters are recorded.
They did that to him? I ask, having assumed it was an accident or a birth defect.
He lost his hand for stealing, Zeke says, eyes on Robbie.