by Debra Doxer
Unexpected fire sparked in his eyes. “I lied about one thing, the fact that I was a high school student. I never lied about my feelings for you. That’s a line I wouldn’t cross, and if you were being honest with yourself, you’d admit you believe at least that much about me.”
I glanced away because I wanted to believe it. But if I did, I’d be twice the fool I was five minutes ago. “You still lied. The number of lies is irrelevant.”
When I saw he intended to drop it, looking defeated, I threw a question at him I’d been wondering about. “Do you like what you do?”
Jonah stilled, apparently surprised by the question. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“How about truthfully?” I studied him, wondering why he seemed so uncomfortable.
With his gaze on me, he exhaled wearily and sat down on the cold concrete floor next to my chair, where he rested his arms on his bent knees. He thought about the question far longer than I thought he would. I hadn’t realized it was such a difficult one.
“The truth is,” he finally began, “I haven’t been doing it long enough to know whether I like it or not. So far, there are good and bad things about it.”
I knitted my brows together. “How long have you been doing this exactly?”
He hesitated again. “Since about last April.”
As I realized what that meant, he almost looked embarrassed. “This is your first case?”
“I was still in school before that, up in Boston. I told you I was in Massachusetts. That was the truth.”
My eyes widened at the last sentence he threw in there. So he’d told the truth about something. Did he want a medal?
“But I only moved back a few months ago,” I pointed out, “and it’s now December. Why have you been here since last April?”
He gave me an odd smile. “I wasn’t here because of you, Candy. When you turned up, the plan changed a bit.”
“Then why were you here?”
Jonah looked down at the floor. “This is one of the parts of my job I don’t like. I can’t tell you that. Not until I get the okay from my father.”
I didn’t bother hiding my scowl. “So I just happened to walk into your plan, whatever it was?”
He nodded.
Great. I didn’t know if I should believe him or not. “How convenient for you since you were targeting my father.”
“Candy, listen.” He slid closer and rested his hand on the chair beside my leg.
Pumpkin tensed in my arms, and Jonah eyed him warily as Pumpkin jumped down onto the floor and walked toward the door. When the cat found it closed, he sat down in front of it and looked back at us.
“I think he wants to go inside,” Jonah said.
It looked to me like Pumpkin really wanted to get away from Jonah, which was something I should have wanted too.
Jonah waited for my gaze to return to him before he continued. “You should know that there’s more that I don’t like about my job. For example, I don’t like it when people get hurt, especially people I care about.”
I sat back in the chair, listening.
“When I helped you get the job at the diner,” he said, “it was because my father asked me to. Stephen and Sam work with my father sometimes. They get involved with the community and listen for information. Running some kind of bar or restaurant usually works well for that.”
My chest tightened at the thought of the diner. I knew something was off about those brothers.
“My father wanted you to have that job to keep you out of your house on the weekends when your father was away so he could search it more easily.” He glanced down and scratched his cheek, looking uncomfortable again.
Here it comes. He’s going to confess to locking me in the freezer, and then I’m going to stop holding back the scream lodged in my throat.
Jonah’s gazed was pained. “You need to know that in this business, traitors are considered the lowest of the low. Stephen and Sam hated your father before they ever met him, and they knew about your condition, Candy. They were told all about you when you got here just like I was, and when they got the chance to hurt your father by hurting you, they took it. It was one of them who locked the door on you. I’m sorry. If I knew what they had planned, I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near that place.”
It had been one of the brothers, Stephen or Sam? I stared at Jonah as I struggled with my thoughts. It sounded plausible.
Regret transformed his expression, weighing it down. But I also saw a flicker of expectation in his gaze, a small spark of hope as he watched me, wanting me to finally believe him.
All along there was a part of me that wouldn’t accept that Jonah could have hurt me so callously. Could I have fallen this hard for someone who could do that to me? I sincerely hoped I was smarter than that.
I wanted to believe him; I wanted it so badly that I let myself consider it. But whether I believed him or not, it didn’t change anything. He’d still deceived me, and my father was still gone.
“Who do you work for?” I wouldn’t give him the forgiveness he wanted, and wondered if Jonah would answer the question my father never would.
Hope dimmed in his eyes, and I realized I was still a fool because his disappointment made me feel guilty. After what he’d done to me, I shouldn’t feel bad for hurting his feelings.
When Jonah didn’t respond, I pressed him. “I asked my father if he worked for some kind of black ops group, and he laughed at me. He claims that he doesn’t work for the government, and I have no idea who you all work for.”
Jonah’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to confirm what he already said, that we aren’t employed by the government in any official way. But sometimes we work on their behalf, or at least that’s the assumption. We do things they want no part of, providing services that can’t be traced back to them in any way.”
“Isn’t that what black ops is?”
“We’re blacker than black ops. You could call us Vantablack. Do you know what that is?”
I shook my head.
“It’s the world’s darkest material, the blackest substance known to man. When you look at it, it’s like staring straight into a black hole.”
His eyes lit with excitement, and I could tell he thought his organization was cool and that he was hot shit because he was in it. His face even became more animated as he described it, like a little boy talking about his favorite superhero.
“You know you’re a dork, right?”
Jonah grinned like he couldn’t care less.
“So, Vantablack. Is that like an official name?” I wasn’t able to keep the sarcasm from my voice. Once upon a time I’d thought my father’s job was cool too, but that was quickly changing, and those responsible were rooting through my house right now.
“We have no official name. There’s no company logo on my paychecks, no business cards, no offices to speak of. We just are.”
I nearly laughed. “You just are. Great. So when I hire a lawyer to help my dad, is that what I tell him?”
His expression sobered. “You can’t hire a lawyer, Candy.”
“Then how is he supposed to defend himself?”
Jonah opened his mouth to speak, but paused when we both heard another voice.
“He can’t. He has no defense for what he did.”
Jonah’s father was standing in the doorway leading inside from the garage. I’d never even heard it open. There was no sign of Pumpkin, who had probably dashed back into the house.
“But you might be able to help your father,” Victor said with his dark eyes trained on me.
Jonah stood and brushed off his hands.
“Come inside,” his father said before he turned away, assuming we’d follow.
“What does he mean? How can I help?” I asked as I pushed up from the chair. My head hurt less now, but the pain in my hip still made me groan inside.
Jonah didn’t seem to notice how slowly I moved. He looked distracted and tens
e. “Some of your questions are about to get answered. Come on.”
He gestured for me to lead the way, and my stomach flipped as I moved, knowing I was about to have the promised talk with Jonah’s father.
As if sensing how tightly wound I was, Jonah placed his hand on my lower back, wordlessly telling me I wasn’t alone. It helped, even though I knew I shouldn’t let it.
I couldn’t give in and lean on Jonah. No matter how much I might want to, I couldn’t trust him not to throw me to the wolves, or at least to his father.
***
The house wasn’t completely trashed, but from what I could see, it was trashed enough. Kitchen drawers stood open, and pots and pans were scattered across the floor. I glanced down the hallway to see some clothing spilling out of doorways. When I paused, staring at the upheaval, Jonah whispered “come on” by my ear and urged me to keep moving.
We found Jonah’s father sitting alone on the couch in the living room when we entered.
“We didn’t find anything, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Sit down,” he added as if this were his house and he was hosting a party.
Stiffly, I lowered myself into the chair across from him. Jonah sat in the other chair, rather than sharing the couch with his father.
Victor scowled as he tossed something at Jonah, who caught it easily. I realized it was Jonah’s wallet that had obviously been found inside our house. Victor’s displeased expression made me wonder if Jonah had gotten into trouble because I’d taken it.
While Jonah looked through it, his father sat forward, and the scowl became a wince as he favored his side, the one I’d grazed with a bullet. But the wince transformed into an odd smile as he turned to me. It was a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, and looked as if it was physically hurting his face. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and the smell of cigarette smoke wafted off him.
“I’m Victor Severance, Jonah’s father, as you know. You can call me Victor.”
I’d rather call him asshole.
Jonah was right. It seemed his father wasn’t going to bring up the fact that I’d shot him, apparently because Jonah had explained it away as his fault.
As I looked at Victor, I turned his name over in my head. Severance. That was the last name I’d seen on Jonah’s license, not Bryson as he’d told me and everyone else, but his real name, the one I’d found inside the wallet he was now slipping into his pocket. I wondered about the name’s origin because Victor’s coloring was dark, and if I had to guess, I’d say he looked Greek. But I didn’t think Severance was a Greek name.
“We found this.” Victor pulled a manila envelope out from behind him.
My eyes widened because he said he hadn’t found anything.
“It’s not what we were looking for,” he explained. “But it tells me a lot.”
He reached across the coffee table and held it out to me. I glanced at Jonah, whose raised brows indicated he didn’t know what it was either. The envelope was light in my hand as I took it carefully by the end, making sure not to touch Victor’s fingers.
As I stared at it, Victor watched, waiting for me to open it. The broken seal indicated he already had.
I reached inside and withdrew a folder that held some papers. At first glance, they looked like forms with legal wording, and I spotted my father’s signature at the bottom in a neat script. As I paged through the document, it all looked the same until I got to the last page, where I spotted my name.
I glanced questioningly at Victor.
“Your father put the house in your name. He gave it to you, Candace. The mortgage is paid off, and he left you an account with enough money to pay expenses and taxes for the next several years.”
My gaze flicked from the papers on my lap to Jonah, and then to his father. Was this true? He’d given me the house?
Victor cocked his head to the side. “This isn’t the money trail I was talking about. Your father lived modestly, and from what we can tell, he paid for everything with money he made legitimately. But this document tells me that he knew he’d be found out eventually, and he wanted to make sure you were taken care of before that happened.”
As I tried to grasp what he was saying and what the papers in front of me meant, I put them back in the folder with a suddenly shaky hand. I didn’t want the house. It was our house, not my house. Why would my father do this and not tell me?
“It’s nice, isn’t it? Your father’s concern for you? With you taken care of, his own well-being appears to not worry him.”
I blinked back the tears that filled my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“He’s unwilling to help himself. All he’s said to us so far is that he has nothing to say. He also made sure to add that he wouldn’t change his mind about it.” He looked at Jonah, and then back at me. “But if your father won’t help himself, then maybe you could help him.”
I was tempted to glance at Jonah again. I kept looking to him for support, and I had to stop that. “How?” I asked Victor.
From the corner of my eye, I noted Jonah’s increased restlessness.
Victor was about to speak, but he stopped as his gaze traveled between Jonah and me, something working behind his dark eyes. Then he stood up.
“I’d like to talk to you outside,” he said to Jonah.
Jonah slowly stood to follow his father across the living room and out the front door.
Once they were gone, I sat there gripping the folder, wondering what they needed to discuss outside. More secrets. They had so many of them. My father had them too. I was drowning in them. There were so many, I could hardly keep the truth straight.
Raised voices outside caught my attention. It sounded as if Jonah and his father were arguing. I couldn’t make out the words, but Jonah’s voice was the most prominent, sharp and angry. It went on for some time before the front door swung open and Jonah came through it again. Alone.
He raked his hands through his hair, and he was having trouble looking at me. A moment later, a car door closed outside, followed by a motor starting.
Had his father left? As I watched Jonah’s restlessness, his anxiety ratcheted up my own.
Gradually, like he was walking through mud, he came back into the living room and sat down across from me where his father had been.
When Jonah finally looked at me, his hazel eyes were raw. “You asked how you could help, and my father thinks I should be the one to tell you.”
I gnawed the inside of my cheek. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”
His eyes closed briefly. “I don’t agree with it.”
Jonah gripped his hands together in front of him and leaned forward slightly. “All the things your father should have told you and didn’t? I’m about to. I promise you it’s the truth. Now that you know who I am, I have no reason to lie to you.”
I held still and didn’t scoff because I wanted to hear this. I’d worry about whether I could believe it later.
“Your father wasn’t the only one in our organization living in Glenn Valley. In whatever region we’re in, they like us to live near one another. Because we have to be so secretive, it makes it easier for the families to at least have each other. Where I grew up in Massachusetts, there were two other kids on my street whose fathers did what mine does.” He paused to clear his throat. “Drew’s father works for the organization too.”
My brows shot up. Drew Hoyt?
“That’s why I started school here last spring. Because of Drew.”
“But . . .” I looked at him as it sank in.
“Your father and Drew’s father were in it together, Candy.”
I sat there, blinking in disbelief as the manila folder dropped to the floor. Papers spilled from my hand, fanning out across the carpet.
“Candy?”
I looked at Jonah, trying to make sense of this. “But I hardly ever saw our fathers together, only once or twice a year. Our mothers were friends, but not our fathers.”
Jonah had no reaction. “That was pr
obably by design, especially considering what they were doing.”
“So you think they’re both traitors?” Even the word traitor coming from my mouth sounded ridiculous.
“They are.” He bent down to gather the papers I’d dropped and shoved them back into the folder.
I wanted to tell him it was crazy, that it was completely impossible, but I couldn’t defend my father with much conviction because I knew he was capable of almost anything.
What I didn’t know and neither did they, was why. I didn’t think he would turn on them without a reason. The fact that Mr. Hoyt was also involved was another bombshell, but they kept falling so fast, I couldn’t process them. I only sat there, unmoving, my body unable to cope with my racing thoughts.
“You were raised differently from most of us.” Jonah sat down again and looked up at me. “Your father kept you isolated. Like I said, families usually live close together and socialize with each other. The work itself is secret, but nothing else is. You never knew about Drew’s father, but he knew about yours. I’m guessing your father asked them not to say anything to you.”
“Why?” I managed to ask, picturing Drew and me sharing our first kiss in the field behind our school. It was hard to imagine him keeping this secret so well.
“Your father would probably say he was protecting you, but I’d say that’s only an excuse. What he was doing was wrong, and he didn’t want you to know. But I have a feeling Drew knows.”
I eyed him more sharply.
“That’s why Drew’s so closed off, and why I couldn’t make any headway with him. He was suspicious of me from the start. But he’s different with you. That’s how my father thinks you can help. He wants you to get close to Drew.”
Before I could say anything, Jonah kept going.
“You’ve already been invited to his house for dinner. Sam overheard him invite you at the diner. My father wants you to accept the invitation.”
I made a sound of disgust. “I find all of this really hard to believe. Even if I agreed to go to dinner, do you think they’re just going to spill their secrets to me after saying nothing all this time?”
Jonah didn’t let my sarcasm bother him. “Things are different now. Your father’s been taken. It’s likely they’ll know that. It would make sense for you to talk about it at dinner with them. But you can’t say anything about me or my father being involved. Once the conversation starts, it would be interesting to see where they take it.”
