by Mason, V. F.
She disappears, and I follow her, walking to the reception area where all the guests are waiting for the party to start.
I see the serial killers playing poker at a table with Alfred Walker giving them a death stare.
Not that he can do much if he wants to participate in this wedding, and he won’t miss it. After all, I’m an eligible bachelor, worthy of his attention, even if I told him off the other night. In me, he sees the only suitable candidate to manage his company once he dies, thinking the Walker fortune will be too irresistible for me to say no.
If he only knew I want to forever destroy his legacy because he made Giselle’s life a living hell.
I shift my attention to Darius watching the guys with interest as he looks at their cards. He probably dreams about playing, since Giselle put a veto on his gambling addiction.
I address him, my voice booming through the room and snapping all eyes to me. “Darius, is it possible to talk with you for a minute?” His brows lift in surprise, but he nods, placing his cup of coffee on the table, and moves toward me slowly, carefully stepping with his cane.
Santiago though reaches me before him, almost jumping from his poker seat. “Callum, at your fucking wedding?” he whispers for my ears only, and Arson has his eyes on us too.
Fucking fantastic.
Why the fuck do they think they’re my friends all of a sudden? Last time I checked, we wanted nothing to do with each other and accepted the way it was.
Now it seems everyone considers it their right to give me advice in life. I want to take the map and shove it into their face, so they can show me where I asked for it. “Perfect timing.”
“Yeah, what a gift to your bride.” We share a look, and he raises his hands. “If you don’t get any tonight, you know who is to blame,” he says breezily, like I forgot to buy her milk or something.
Instead of killing her grandpa.
“Son, you wanted to talk?” Darius asks, and I focus my stare on him, taking in all the wrinkles on his face and his fragile state. He coughs a little into his tissues, smiling. “Is my flower girl having jitters before the wedding and needs to calm down?” He leans on the cane. “I can prepare her mint tea; it always soothes her.”
Love slips into every word along with the softness flashing in his face.
He loves Giselle, truly and unconditionally loves her, despite the truth.
And that love became his and her downfall.
“Can we take it outside?” I lower my voice, leaning closer. “Don’t want Alfred to eavesdrop.” The old man already studies us, almost red with a rage that probably eats him alive.
Besides, he already knows half of the truth; that’s why he treated Giselle like shit most of her life.
The time will come to uncover all truths, but right now, I have to focus on my revenge.
“Of course, of course.” Darius trails after me as I enter the hallway and go to the elevator on this floor. I press the roof button and he frowns. “It’s a bit windy for the roof, and it just stopped raining.” He pats me on the arm, and I hold back the instinct to snatch it away, as I hate his touch. “Don’t want you to get sick.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” Under other circumstances, I would have laughed at his protection, because it comes too little too late.
The elevator dings, and we exit onto the roof, the wind snapping us in our faces, and Darius gulps for breath. “Dear God,” he murmurs, turning away so the wind is hitting his back now and ruffling his hair. “What did you want to talk about, son?”
Stepping away from him, I reach the middle of the roof and widen my arms, greeting this moment.
Twenty-five years.
That’s how long it has taken us to reach this place. “I always wanted to do it here. The perfect place for the perfect time,” I announce and shift my gaze back to him.
He blinks. “Son?” Confusion laces his tone, so I throw a folder at him. He doesn’t catch it, but it lands open at his feet, the plastic pages flipping open wildly in the wind, showcasing photo after photo of the boy in different stages of life.
Somehow, Santiago managed to find even my school photos.
He freezes, his eyes glued to them while he fists the top of the cane, panting for breath. “I’m not your son,” I say, clacking my tongue. “But I am your grandson.”
He rasps something barely audible to me while kneeling on the ground, turning page after page, tracing his fingers over them. “You are—” he whispers, raising his gaze to me along with my four-year-old picture that he pulled out of a plastic pocket.
“Jessie Desmond in the flesh,” I introduce myself by my given name, tasting it in my mouth and wanting to spit afterward. It doesn’t suit me, and I can’t recall my life as Jessie.
Except for one memory that remains very vivid, waking me up at night. I always thought it was a mirage, a figment of my imagination before Santiago showed up with his file, giving me the truth my subconscious always knew.
“Jessie, come here,” Grandpa calls, and I giggle, plastering myself against his knee.
He pats me on my back and picks me up, while I squeal, enjoying looking down from such height.
Grandpa is so big!
Hugging him close, I put my head on his shoulder. “Mommy is sick,” I say, frowning at the hospital room where she lies with doctors around her.
It smells so weird; my nose always twitches here. Mommy says it’s the medicine, and it will end soon anyway, as we’ll be home in no time.
“She needs rest, my prince,” Grandpa whispers and props me on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
My brows furrow. “Where? Mommy said I have to stay here.” And I never go against her wishes; we are a team and all by ourselves. That’s why I should always do what she says.
“I have an adventure for you.”
“Adventure?” I clap my hands, all while Grandpa goes outside, the sun shining on me, and I whine, “Too bright.” But Grandpa only hugs me close, rocking me in his arms. “It will be just for a little while, and I will come back soon. Okay?”
“What?” He comes to a pick-up truck. I know the name, because Mommy has one, and he greets some strange woman. “I’ll be in Dallas in a week.”
She nods and hops inside the truck while Grandpa settles me on the seat, snapping the belt around me. “I don’t want to go,” I tell him, pulling at his sleeve, but he palms my head and kisses my forehead. “It’s for the best, Jessie. This is an adventure, everything will be good.” He waits a bit and adds, “This lady will be with you. She will be nice to you.”
His voice is cold now, and I hear her snort, “Relax, old man. What will I do to a kid?” He doesn’t reply to her but kisses me again before moving back.
“No, Grandpa! I don’t want to. Don’t leave me here alone!” I shout, but he’s already closed the door as the lady starts the pickup.
I slap on the window, screaming, “Grandpa! Mommy, Mommy!” She once told me if I scream loud enough, she would always come to the rescue. Where is she?
“Mommy!” I whine, crying loudly, and the lady from the front snaps.
“Shut your mouth, kid.” But then she stops by the funny light on the street and looks at me again, longer. “Aren’t you pretty?”
The flashback ends so abruptly, leaving nothing but a void and betrayal in its wake.
The person who was supposed to love me… fed me to the monster.
“Jessie,” he whispers, getting up on wobbling legs, still holding the picture. “You are my Jessie?”
“My name is Callum. Jessie died the day you sold me to that bitch.”
He whimpers as if I hit him, and the sound is music to my ears. I should find pleasure at least in small things, right?
“Since I found out about you,” I say, gazing into the clear blue sky above us while the wind blows in my face, “all I wanted to do was ask you one single question.”
Darius exhales heavily, and I turn around to see him covering his mouth with his wrinkled hand while he
holds on to the railing.
“One single question,” I repeat, and close my eyes while flashbacks of my childhood play like a colorful movie in my head. “Why did you lie about my existence? Switch babies. Why?” Tears form in his eyes while he gasps for breath. “Once I saw your picture, I’ve replayed that day when you left me over in my head almost constantly.” I roll my finger near my temple. “All the fucking time. And no matter how much I try… I can never find justification for that.” He still stays silent, this time tears sliding down his cheeks while his green eyes drill into me. “Why?”
The gust of wind hits us so hard it’s difficult to breathe for a second, and I inhale the rich city smell. Somehow it keeps me grounded in the present, not allowing me to sink into the fear and desperation that small boy experienced when he was torn away from the life he knew.
“She used to dress me as a girl and sell me to guys so they could fuck me.” He chokes on his cry, but fuck him. I experienced it; he can damn fucking listen. “I never understood why she didn’t feel anything toward me. How could a mother do that to her child, right?” A hollow laugh erupts from me, slipping coldness into each word. “But turned out she wasn’t mine.” I clack with my tongue. “Not that I was disappointed.”
“I—”
“Then I was sold into human trafficking. Those were hilarious years too.”
“Oh, God,” he murmurs, horrified, but nothing can stop me now.
“And then became a serial killer. Hades—I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” Satisfaction almost pours from me when I notice him pale with every new tidbit of information. “So you see, with your one decision, you really gave me one heck of a life.”
He glances at the sidewalk from the rooftop and understanding crosses his face, since he is probably familiar with my signature.
He figured out I always wanted to kill him?
At least my grandfather dearest isn’t stupid; I’ll give him that.
“I wanted to protect you,” he finally speaks out, leaning on the railing, holding his heart.
I chuckle, finding it fucking hilarious, all things considered. “Well, your protection kind of sucked.”
He runs his hand over his face and continues, ignoring my words, gazing into space as if remembering something. “You were such a small, sweet boy. When my daughter had you… you were her everything.” My heart stills in my chest, his words sinking into my bruised childhood like claws demanding emotions I’m unable to give. “I knew Walker would do everything to find his grandson if he heard about you. An heir that he could raise right. Under his strict rules, God knows what he planned after Marvin, his failed attempt.” He gulps a breath. “I had to give you away before he got to know about you. Ironically, my daughter never told Marvin about you. She was afraid he would take you. But they had an affair again, while you were little. And she got pregnant. Again.”
I almost wish he would shut up, because no matter what he says, it doesn’t and won’t ever justify the shit he pulled. “You can—”
He raises his hand, shutting me up. “You said your piece, boy, now let me say mine.” I turn around, not wanting to see him in this moment while his voice crumbles my self-control with new details. “Walker knew about this one. He told to me to watch her pregnancy and make sure nothing happened to her. But when she was giving birth, there were complications. The baby died, and she had only you.”
“So you decided to sell me?” I light a cigarette, needing it like crack when he explains his destructive plans that make little sense to me.
“The woman I gave you to didn’t want her baby, a little girl. A girl could survive in the Walker household; a boy would have not. At least that’s what I thought, but he had no mercy for a girl either.” I exhale the smoke, concentrating on its bitter taste. “I sealed a deal with her. I paid her enough money to watch over you, while she agreed to change babies. A dead one to her, hers to my daughter. Your mother didn’t know the truth,” he adds sadly, probably mourning over his daughter. “She never forgave me. That’s why she took Giselle and ran away, brokenhearted over the loss of you.”
My mother. At least I had a mother who loved me.
“She was supposed to watch you and let me visit. But she vanished, and I could never track her.”
“Sounds just like Mommy dearest.” Darius sure as fuck was a naïve fool. She’d probably already calculated her income the minute she saw me. I was a pretty boy on all accounts, even back when I was four. Considering she started selling me at five, it didn’t take her long to form her plan.
“I never gave you up, Callum. Please believe that,” he begs, and I spin around to face him again, just in time for him to take a step in my direction. “I just wanted you to have a normal life.”
“Are you fucking insane?” I shout, the words ripping from my throat. “Normal life?” I drop the cigarette and lock my hands behind my head, pacing back and forth, because control is slowly slipping through my fingers. “My plan all along was to take away your granddaughter, tell you the truth, and throw you to the streets to die.” He blinks, nodding, accepting it. “But you know what’s funny?” I walk to the rail and grab it harshly, to the point my knuckles turn white. “I no longer want to do that. My revenge will have no point.”
Isn’t it ironic?
Love became my ultimate downfall as well.
“You understand me?” he asks with surprise lacing his voice, and something akin to… hope?
Hope is an illusion that has no place in my life. Never did any good anyway.
“I love Giselle, truly love her with all my heart, if it fucking exists. And when I think, what if you didn’t switch babies? She would have lived this nightmare of mine.” He cries again, sighing into his palm. “God, I can’t even imagine someone hurting her. I don’t want to imagine it. So I can’t ask for revenge for this. Because you saved the woman I love from my nightmare. And for that, I thank you and grant you your life, but stay away from me. I never know when I might change my mind.” I say and walk away, forever freeing myself from the fury brewing in my bones.
I can never change my past that belongs to fucked-up people who made bad choices.
My future though… only has a place for Giselle.
The boy crying in the pink dress on the floor after his mom beat him because he refused to watch a second cartoon with the new customer… that boy who lived inside me all along and wondered why this all happened to him.
He has finally found peace.
Because unknowingly, he’d protected a beautiful girl all his life.
This answer is satisfying enough to withstand all storms, even if the scars and pain will never go away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Callum
The minute I’m in the main hallway, I know something is wrong. The hackles rise on the back of my neck while adrenaline rushes through me, alerting me to danger.
My instincts never lie, so I press on the elevator button several times, needing to go back to Giselle’s room. The ceremony is scheduled to start in ten minutes; she should still be in her room.
When the elevator arrives though, Lucy darts out of it, panic written all over her features.
“Callum!” She grabs my elbows, her eyes watering and lips wobbling. “I can’t find Giselle.” She hiccups a little, closing her mouth with her palm, and by the smell of alcohol, I know she’s been drinking. “She left!”
Everything inside me freezes, turning into ice, even the beast roaring in my depths. Instead, calm settles over me, the calm of a monster who reins in its fire.
Putting my hands on her shoulders, I shake her a little and her teeth snap, momentarily ending her panic. When her attention is on me, I ask, “What happened?” I need all the facts before I can proceed.
If my Giselle ran away, I will catch her and bring her back. The only question is when.
Willing or not, she will be mine.
“Magnolia told me to check on the bride, as we were supposed to wait downstairs till the ceremon
y starts,” she whines into her palms again, so I shake her once more. “I knocked several times, but she didn’t reply. When I entered, she was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her all over, but then—” Her voice hitches, while she shrinks under my stare, and I barely restrain myself from choking the shit out of her.
“She what?” I demand.
Lucy pushes a letter into my chest, and I snatch it up, scanning it quickly.
Callum,
I know everything.
Everything.
I can’t be with you.
Giselle
Fisting the note in my hand, I count to ten mentally so I won’t roar into space while Lucy steps back.
“What’s going on?” Santiago stops next to us. “Callum?”
Without another word, I give him the letter. He frowns, and that’s when the rest of the guys show up.
“Everything all right?” Lachlan asks as Arson scans me from head to toe, searching for a clue, but I give him none.
I’m absolutely calm, after all.
“Giselle.” I finally push the words through my throat, mentally preparing myself to spin into action. “She’s been kidnapped.”
Because this letter is nothing but bullshit.
And that’s what scares me the most.
Who took my woman, if all my enemies and allies alike are in this building?
Giselle
Groggy and disoriented, I snap my eyes open and wince, groaning. Piercing pain assaults my scalp, and I have trouble breathing. I don’t want to move for fear it will come back. “What’s going on?” My dry throat demands water, but none is in sight.
Only then does it register in my mind that I’m in a closed space, because darkness completely surrounds me, and the floor under me is moving.
I sit up, groaning again and touching the back of my head, detecting a bump under my fingers. “What’s going on?” I repeat, and that’s when the movement stops, and my head bangs against the wall behind me. “For the love of God!” And then memories come crashing back at me, my stomach flipping as fear and shock travel through me.
