CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #3
Mimi’s fifth birthday party is the first day in months without the shadow of her father looming over the Estate.
Lachlan and Blaire throw together a small party with minimal presents and maximum games.
Mimi blows out five little candles on a cream cake with raspberries (not strawberries because Jules is allergic) and Vasily cheers alongside Lachlan, Blaire and Jules.
‘Happy birthday, princess,’ Lachlan tells her, nuzzling her cheek when she hugs him. ‘Here. This one’s from me.’
‘Yes, present from Daddy!’ she shrieks, ripping off the paper and opening the box.
Inside is a small mother-of-pearl penknife, folded shut.
‘For me?’ she double-checks when Lachlan shows her how to use it, slow and careful, the blade is so blunt it’s basically a butter knife, but this type has all kinds of extensions on it, and she’ll keep busy learning them over time.
‘For you,’ he promises. ‘Daddy will teach you how to use it.’
‘Maybe Daddy could teach me how to throw a punch finally,’ Blaire mutters, teasing.
Though Lachlan gives a good-natured roll of his eyes, he knows without looking that Jules is subtly scowling.
‘Here, sweetie, this one came for you without a note,’ Blaire says, pushing forward a large, heavy box wrapped in pastel rainbow paper.
Mimi seems hesitant. ‘Who is it from?’ she asks warily.
‘I don’t know,’ Blaire lies. ‘It was outside the Cove.’
She opens it slowly, a little dent between her eyes, but then she sees the black box and brightens instantly.
‘Mari!’ she squeals, opening the lockbox and scooping out her friend, the backpack Lachlan wore for weeks to seem less threatening.
Mimi hugs the fox, kissing his fur. ‘I missed you so much! It’s OK now.
I said it was only for a while.’ She swings him onto her back, sighing happily, ‘Good boy for hiding. I’d never, never leave you behind. ’
?
Lachlan tries talking to Jules later on when the sun is setting on Mimi’s birthday and the birds are chirping, and Jules is alone on the shore of the lake.
‘Good day?’ he asks, sitting beside Jules.
‘It was.’ Jules’ gaze is fixed on the rippling water. ‘Vasily said he’s staying.’
‘Yeah.’ Lachlan has no interest in discussing the youngest Sorrenko boy. ‘How are you doing?’
‘What does that mean?’
Honesty. It’s all they have.
‘After the headshots,’ Lachlan clarifies, should probably look at the pretty scene in front of him but it’s his job to stay eyes-on with the boy, and he takes it seriously, maybe beyond what’s necessary.
‘I’m fine.’
‘What does fine mean?’
‘I don’t know, what does it mean when you say it?’
‘Usually it means stop asking, or I don’t want you to worry.’
‘There you go.’
‘Which?’
‘Both.’
‘Fair enough, but I just want to say—’
‘Look, I don’t need therapy or fucking counselling or coddling, all right? I did what I did, and it worked to buy us time, so—’
‘I wanted to say I’m proud of you and that those were exceptional headshots,’ Lachlan speaks over him, drowns out the little spiral before it gains momentum.
Jules trails off and looks at him, the rippling sunset forgotten.
‘I’m really proud of you. Yes, taking life is a big deal but it’s better than losing your own.
You did well, and if you wanna talk about it,’ he adds, shrugging, ‘I lost track of my kill count years ago. I won’t treat you like glass. ’
‘What was it before you lost track?’
‘High two hundreds.’
‘How old were you?’
Lachlan casts back. ‘Nineteen.’
‘Why did you lose track?’
‘Extraction gone wrong. I stopped counting from then on.’
Jules stares for a while before he looks back at the lake, and very quietly says, ‘They weren’t my first.’
‘Kills?’
‘Yeah.’
Lachlan recalls what Penhalyx told him last year. ‘Was it a bodyguard?’
Jules rests his chin on his knees. ‘It was.’
I was informed that it was a close call, the old man had told Lachlan when referencing the incident with a bodyguard when Jules was fifteen, something that apparently left him jaded in the extreme.
‘How did you kill him?’
Jules frowns. ‘Poison.’
‘That’s smart,’ Lachlan says, carefully parsing all that Jules isn’t saying. ‘Do you want to learn how to do it with your hands?’
‘What?’
‘Kill people,’ Lachlan clarifies. ‘Those who deserve it, for self-defence, obviously,’ he adds quickly. ‘CQC, you remember?’
‘Yeah but…’ Jules’ frown deepens. ‘I thought it was like martial arts or some bullshit.’
Lachlan shrugs. ‘It’s the backbone of what I was taught.’
‘What would it do?’
‘Make you strong and capable, make you a weapon.’
‘My father would never allow it.’
‘As long as it doesn’t damage you, he will.’
‘So… what? This’ll teach me to kill someone with my hands?’
‘And a lot more, yeah. Then if anything ever happens to me—’
‘You’d better not let it,’ Jules says quickly.
‘Some things happen whether you let them or not.’
The waves lap against the shore.
This landlocked body of water still answers to the moon.
Eventually, Jules gets up. ‘I’ll think about it.’
Lachlan follows. ‘Sounds good.’