Chapter 16 Blood Never Forgot #3
His mother loved him.
Bao valued Tan.
That distinction shaped everything.
Bao never hid his preference.
Tan carried the direct male bloodline.
Tan would inherit controlling interests when he became an adult.
Tan would carry the Lee name forward.
Tan would receive the ceremonial jade.
Tan would become head of the legitimate family holdings once old enough.
Jin remembered sitting outside Bao's office listening while men twice his age discussed a five-year-old's future as though Jin weren't even there.
He remembered anger.
Then shame for feeling angry toward a child.
Tan adored him.
Followed him everywhere.
Copied the way Jin held chopsticks.
Wanted to wear his jackets.
Cried when Jin left the house without him.
And Jin—
Jin had loved him.
That truth still existed.
He had hidden Tan during the raid because he wanted him safe.
No calculation.
No inheritance.
Just instinct.
Stay here.
I'll come back.
He had meant the promise.
Then the world changed.
And when Tan disappeared, grief eventually made room for ambition.
Now the little brother he'd once tried to protect had become the greatest threat to everything Jin built.
The irony was almost cruel.
His phone buzzed.
Victor.
Jin answered.
"Yes."
"We have the final house assessment."
"Go."
"Sunday night gives the best window."
Jin stared at the television.
"Why?"
"Terrence and Eva return home by ten after visiting his parents."
"Neighborhood settles around midnight."
"Security can be interrupted through the external service junction and cellular backup jammed temporarily."
"Entry from rear or side."
"How many?"
"Four."
"Too many."
"House is large enough."
"Terrence is armed."
"Two could handle it."
"Four reduces risk."
Jin swirled the drink.
"And Eva?"
Victor paused.
"What about her?"
"Not a target."
"Understood."
"No unnecessary killing."
"Understood."
"Terrence only."
Victor was quiet.
Then—
"If she sees faces?"
"Use masks."
"And if she becomes a problem?"
Jin's eyes remained on Tan.
"She won't."
"That's an assumption."
Jin finally looked away from the screen.
"Then solve the problem without killing her unless there is absolutely no alternative."
Victor accepted it.
"Tan?"
"Where will he be?"
"Likely at his own residence."
"Good."
"His siblings?"
"Travis out of town."
"Ella scheduled overnight at Mercy General."
"Parents?"
"At their residence."
"Then Sunday."
Victor didn't respond immediately.
"You're certain?"
Jin's expression went cold.
"Do you need me to repeat myself?"
"No."
"Then make it clean."
The call ended.
Jin sat in silence.
For the first time since issuing the order, something uncomfortable entered his chest.
Not guilt.
He refused to name it that.
Memory.
Tan at five.
Tan laughing while sitting on Jin's shoulders.
Tan falling asleep beside him during a movie.
Tan holding out his pinky.
You promise?
Jin closed his eyes.
He hated remembering the voice.
He opened them again.
On television, grown Tan smiled beside Terrence.
Jin reached for the remote.
Turned the screen off.
Darkness reflected his own face back at him.
"He's not your father," Jin whispered.
But the words sounded childish even to him.
Because biology didn't decide the truth.
Jin understood that.
He simply hated the truth it created.
Terrence David had raised his brother.
Protected him.
Loved him.
Made him a man.
Everything Jin had failed to do.
Jin finished his drink.
"Sunday."
Sunday morning began peacefully at the David home.
Eva stood at the kitchen counter in her robe making coffee.
Terrence sat at the table reading the newspaper.
Old-fashioned.
Physical paper.
Tan mocked him relentlessly for it.
Eva looked over.
"You know you can read that on your phone."
Terrence lowered the paper.
"Don't start."
"I was just saying."
"That's how Tan talks."
"He's right."
Terrence lifted the newspaper again.
Eva smiled.
Outside, birds moved between the trees.
A lawn mower started several houses away.
Someone played gospel music from an open garage.
Ordinary Sunday.
They attended church.
Gloria cried during worship.
Harold pretended he didn't.
Tan and Amari joined them for service.
Afterward, everyone went to Gloria and Harold's house for dinner.
Travis called from San Francisco about a case.
Ella arrived late wearing scrubs because she'd worked the morning shift before switching schedules with another nurse.
The table filled.
Laughter.
Food.
Arguments.
Home.
At one point, Gloria looked toward Amari.
"So when are y'all getting married?"
Tan nearly dropped his fork.
"Grandma."
Amari smiled innocently.
"I don't know, Grandma. Ask Tan."
The entire table turned toward him.
Tan stared at Amari.
Betrayal.
She smiled.
Terrence covered his mouth to hide laughter.
Eva looked toward Tan knowingly now.
She had finally been told about the ring.
Mostly because after twenty-nine years of marriage, Terrence valued peace.
Tan pointed his fork around the table.
"Nobody in this family understands boundaries."
Harold laughed.
"What's a boundary?"
"Exactly."
Amari squeezed Tan's thigh beneath the table.
He looked toward her.
She mouthed,
I love you.
Tan's frustration vanished.
He smiled.
Love you too.
Terrence saw it.
He looked toward Eva.
She saw it too.
Their son was happy.
That was enough.
Around nine-thirty, everyone began leaving.
Tan hugged Eva near the driveway.
"Call me tomorrow."
"What for?"
"Nothing."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Goodnight, Mama."
"Tan."
He kissed her cheek.
"Love you."
Eva grabbed his arm.
"Are you proposing tomorrow?"
"No."
"Tuesday?"
"No."
"Next Saturday?"
Tan froze.
Eva screamed.
"I KNEW IT!"
Tan covered her mouth.
"Mama!"
Terrence walked out laughing.
"What happened?"
"Your wife is interrogating me."
Eva pulled his hand away.
"Next Saturday."
Tan sighed.
"Now you know."
She hugged him.
"I won't tell Amari."
"You better not."
"I won't."
Terrence looked toward his son.
"Need anything?"
"No."
"Call me."
"Why?"
Terrence shrugged.
"Dad privilege."
Tan smiled.
"I will."
He walked toward Amari's SUV.
She waved from the passenger seat.
Terrence watched them drive away.
Eva slipped her arm around his waist.
"Our baby's getting married."
"If she says yes."
Eva looked at him.
"Please."
Terrence laughed.
"You women are confident."
"She loves him."
"I know."
They walked toward their own car.
Terrence glanced once toward the dark street.
Nothing unusual.
No unfamiliar vehicle.
No movement.
He got behind the wheel.
Eva turned on gospel music.
They drove home.
At 10:18 p.m., the David house alarm activated.
Terrence checked the doors.
Front.
Back.
Garage.
Routine.
Eva changed into pajamas and settled into bed with a book.
Terrence watched the late news.
At eleven-thirty, he joined her.
By midnight, the street had quieted.
Porch lights remained on at several homes.
Two houses down, Mr. Willis sat outside smoking as usual.
At 1:07 a.m., he went inside.
At 1:42, the neighborhood became almost completely still.
At 2:11, a dark SUV turned onto the block.
Headlights off.
It stopped near an alley.
Four men exited.
Black clothing.
Gloves.
Face coverings.
One carried a compact electronic device.
Another moved toward the rear service connection.
At 2:18, the David home's external alarm communication went dark.
Inside the master bedroom, the panel gave no warning.
No sound.
Nothing.
At 2:36, a side gate opened.
Slowly.
A gloved hand caught it before the latch clicked.
The men moved through the backyard.
One approached the camera junction.
The image froze.
Inside, Terrence slept beside Eva.
On the nightstand rested his phone.
His service weapon remained secured inside a biometric safe within reach.
He had taught Eva for years what to do if anyone ever entered the house.
Don't confront.
Don't search.
Escape if possible.
Bedroom window.
Neighbor two doors down.
Call police once safe.
He had taught her because he was a cop.
Because cops made enemies.
Because precautions were love expressed practically.
He never imagined the danger would come through his son.
At 2:47, something downstairs moved.
A faint sound.
Wood against wood.
Terrence's eyes opened.
He didn't sit up immediately.
He listened.
Eva slept beside him.
Silence.
Then—
A soft thud.
Terrence slowly reached toward her.
"Eva."
She stirred.
"What?"
He pressed one finger against his lips.
Her eyes widened.
Terrence listened again.
Footsteps.
Downstairs.
Not one person.
More.
His heartbeat changed.
Eva started to sit up.
Terrence gently pushed her back.
"Window."
She stared.
"Terrence—"
"Window."
His voice was barely a whisper.
She understood.
Years of instruction became real.
Terrence reached toward the safe.
His thumb pressed the scanner.
Click.
The compartment opened.
He took the handgun.
Checked it.
Ready.
Eva's breathing became shallow.
Terrence leaned close.
"You remember?"
Tears instantly filled her eyes.
"Yes."
"Two houses."
"Mr. Willis."
"Call 911 when you're outside."
She grabbed his wrist.
"Come with me."
Terrence looked toward the bedroom door.
Another sound downstairs.
A whispered voice.
Then a floorboard creaked near the staircase.
Someone was coming up.
"If I go out that window with you, they follow."
"Terrence—"
"Baby."
He touched her cheek.
"Do what we practiced."
Her tears spilled.
He kissed her.
Not dramatic.
Not long.
One familiar kiss between two people who had done it thousands of times.
"I love you."
Eva's breathing broke.
"I love you."
Terrence moved toward the bedroom door.
Eva reached toward the window.
Downstairs, a man whispered into a radio.
"Second floor."
Another answered.
"Target likely awake."
Terrence heard enough.
Target.
Not robbery.
Not random.
Someone had come for him.
He looked once toward Eva.
"Go."
She opened the window.
Carefully.
Terrence moved into the hallway.
Gun raised.
Darkness.
His house.
His children's childhood home.
Photographs along the wall.
Graduations.
Birthdays.
Tan's adoption day.
Ella's nursing pinning.
Travis at law-school graduation.
Tan standing beside Terrence in uniform.
Terrence's eyes hardened.
Whoever had entered picked the wrong house.
One shadow moved near the stairs.
Terrence fired.