CHAPTER 13 #3
I was determined to hold onto the good memories I had of Gia.
I didn’t want to dwell on the anger I tried hard not to let myself feel for what she had done to me in the end.
I tried to let my rage at her almost getting Cal and Arran killed go, because that hadn’t truly been Gia.
The version of her – that bitter, twisted, hateful version was our mother – a creation of her lies and poison fed into innocent and trusting ears.
I moved to close the album, not sure it was a good idea to look at any more photos that day, but paused when a face in the background of a picture of Gia and Dio jumped out at me.
In the image, Dio had Gia in his arms in the lounge of our old home.
Gia was laughing as Dio pulled a ridiculous face that made him look so adorably young.
But that wasn’t what I found myself staring at.
There was a man in the background, stood in the hall just past the doorway.
That wasn’t unusual. Marcello’s men had been stationed around our childhood home constantly, because Marcello was paranoid about security.
But this man – it was Jase. The traitor that took me to that garage, on the night where Gia was being held hostage, or so I had believed anyway.
He was the man who had misled and used my sister, and been a traitor, and a spy in Rafe’s ranks, stealing who knew what information.
We still didn’t even know why he had been planted in Rafe’s organisation, but this man in the photo – he was Jase in every way, but with slightly longer hair.
Except this couldn’t actually be him, because Jase had been older than me, but not that much older. This picture was taken about thirteen years ago, and the man in the image looked like Jase as I knew him just weeks before.
It made no sense, but it was too much of a coincidence to just ignore, and Rafe did still want to know what Jase had been up to.
I wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders, then grabbed the album and stood.
The room spun a little, but that was becoming normal after my concussion.
I just closed my eyes and waited for a moment, until it passed, then I left the warmth of the fire and headed next door, hoping Rafe or Dio would shed some light on my confusion.
I didn’t bother knocking, knowing I was interrupting anyway, so I just opened the door and slid inside. They were all in there – Rafe and Dio behind their desks, Cal on the sofa that I loved, and Arran perched on the arm of it at his brother’s side.
“Hi babe. You alright?” Cal asked, seeing me the second I entered.
“Yeah. Sorry to just burst in, but I…I need to ask you something.” I looked to Rafe.
“You’ve been crying,” Rafe pointed out as he pushed his chair back and went to stand.
“Nothing new there then,” I snorted self-deprecatingly. “I’m good. Sit back down,” I added when he started to come to me.
Instead I crossed the room to his desk and laid out the album, open on the correct page. Rafe looked over the images quickly and smiled.
“Christ. I haven’t seen these for a while.”
“I was just looking through them. There’s some beautiful pictures,” I told him with a sad smile. “But I spotted something that has me puzzled.”
“What is it?” Dario asked as he rose to his feet and came towards Rafe’s desk.
“The old albums from when the girls were little,” Rafe answered.
“Who’s that?” I asked as I pointed to the man in the background of the image. “Because it looks a hell of a lot like Jase to me, but it can’t be, can it?”
“Jase?” Arran questioned, then I felt him close behind me, so close the heat from his body wrapped around me, but he only touched me where his hand landed on my shoulder.
“Jesus,” Dario uttered.
“That can’t be him. He’d have been too old,” I pointed out.
“Do you know who he is, Rafe?” Dario asked.
“No, but Cara’s right. He’s the double of Jase. This can’t be a coincidence. I don’t remember him working for my father though.”
“He looks a little familiar, but that might just be because he looks the spitting image of Jase. If he was working for Marcello, he can’t have been here for long if neither of us remember him,” Dio reasoned, looking between Rafe and the photo.
“Dante might know. It’d be around the time he enlisted, but if he met this fella, he’d remember him. He never forgets a face,” Arran said.
“It could have been Jase’s dad or his brother maybe? Someone blood related. Maybe Jase being here was personal, right?” I asked.
“Could be,” Rafe nodded. “But he was working for the Russians too. We have proof of that. We need to find out who this guy is. Maybe we can finally discover what Jase was up to.”
“I’ll do what I can to get a hold of Dante again. Reach out to some old contacts,” Arran volunteered.
“We should speak to Dom too. He might have been working for Marcello when this guy was around,” Dario suggested as he snapped an image of the photo in the album, with his phone.
“We’ll figure it out. Good work spotting this, sweetheart. It may finally bring us some answers,” Rafe praised me, and I felt myself blush instantly, not used to getting such praise.
“Did you get some sleep?” Cal asked as he appeared at my side.
He negotiated his crutches into one hand, then wrapped his arm around the small of my back until his hand landed on my hip.
I couldn’t help the breath of relief that slipped from me at having him so close.
I was desperate to lean into him, but I didn’t want to test his balance.
“Pretty good,” I agreed. “Do we have anything new on Adamian and what his next move is?” I looked to Rafe for my answer, knowing he wouldn’t lie to me, or try to hide the truth.
“Not yet, but we’ve set up a load of surveillance on the Armenian’s operations. I’m hoping that we’ll know something soon,” he explained. “As soon as I know anything, you will too.”
I nodded to him gratefully. As much as I was sure I couldn’t cope with anymore mess right then, I also knew I had to be aware of what was happening.
Being kept out of the loop wasn’t going to make me feel safe.
It would just make me worry more than knowing the truth.
Or at least I hoped. I supposed that all depended on how terrifying the truth became.