“Yes, sir. Absolutely.”
Roger slapped a hand down on Erik’s narrow shoulder. His knees wobbled. “You know, Carlson, I have my needs, and paperwork is just one that feeds me. I write everything down. If it’s not in a journal, it doesn’t exist.”
Just as Erik swallowed hard, Gunther popped back out of his flat with a black t-shirt on. “I’ll be back in a bit. Just stay put. I mean it,” he ordered to whoever was behind the door.
“I’ll stay right where I am if you have more wine,” the female purred.
“In the fridge. Help yourself,” he murmured, shutting the door.
“Getting some pussy with your blood tonight?” Roger chuckled.
Ignoring him, Gunther growled, “Let’s go. If this bird passes out before I get in her, I’m going to kick your fucking arse.” He shoved Erik down the hall, then pulled out his Sig, ready to clean up the mess in the lab.
Erik looked around at the desk and opened drawers, searching for a journal or notebook that contained passwords. After three, he discovered more weapons, a bottle of Scotch, a velvet box full of extravagant women’s jewelry, several pairs of panties…
He shook his head.
When he opened the bottom drawer, he smiled and murmured, “There you are.”
It was full of journals. Some were brimming with personal entries, so he stacked those for reading later. Others had birth names, the new identity, birth and death dates. He found a smaller Moleskine notebook pressed flat against the front of the drawer. His fingers trembled as he flipped through the pages labeled with an exact description of the location of each password or code.
Erik narrowed his eyes at the tiny, perfect handwriting and ran his finger down the lists of passwords. “Laptop… Laptop… Laptop…” He took a gamble that the one labeled “My Office” was what he needed.
“AR2BMineAlways?” Erik questioned, then chuckled quietly. “Hmm… Interesting. Apparently, Roger is smitten with another.”
Conscientious of each keystroke, he typed in the password. The laptop unlocked. Erik silently clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Okay, tracking…” He moved the cursor over the files and programs on the desktop. “Ah, this should be it,” he murmured, double-clicking on the globe-shaped icon.
A new window popped up and the screen went black. Erik groaned and stared at the darkness, feeling like his efforts were for naught. But then, line-by-line, traces began to appear, shaping into a map of the US. After the illustration completed, little red dots popped up and moved around within the borders.
Erik zoomed in on the massive jumble in North Carolina. Coordinates, tagged with names, appeared. He spent the next thirty minutes watching all the movement. Erik noted that Drew’s, as well as the entire ship’s crew, was stagnant.
He glanced at his watch and figured out the time zone difference. “One-thirty in the afternoon,” he said. He rested his cheek on his palm and continued to study the dots. Erik sighed and rapped his fist on the desk. “Curious, that.”
With more information needed, he stood and headed to the wood filing cabinets. Erik thumbed through every drawer, which contained a file for each recruit. Taken aback, he saw Liam Daniels’ name written in red unlike the others, which were in black. He pulled out the folder and returned to the chair.
Erik muttered to himself while going through the file. “Birth name… Luke Aaron Richards. New identity… Liam Henry Daniels. Birth date… May 5th, 1986. Mother… Anne Elizabeth Richards… Father… Gareth Liam Turner.” He paused. “Gareth Turner…,” he repeated in a whisper.
The name was familiar.
When it dawned on him, Erik jumped out of the chair and went back to the file cabinet. He pulled open the drawers and searched through the files until he found one labeled Gareth Turner. Erik flipped through the papers, his finger stopping at the new identity.
“Well, I’ll be… Roger Henry Alaric. This explains so much.” He pulled the picture of a young Roger off the paperclip attached to the inside cover and went back to the desk to compare it to Liam’s. “Bloody hell! Such a strong resemblance. How did I miss this? How did anyone miss this?”
He glanced at the laptop screen again. Everything seemed to be about the same. “Well, looks like I may have plenty of time to do some research.”
Erik smiled and sat back in the chair. For the next several hours, he read the files, still tracking the movements of the recruits.
Chapter 2
-North Carolina-
Everything was falling into place for Elaina and me. The only thing I wished for my family was a true home to call our own. I had hope the world would right itself someday, but after all we had seen, it was doubtful. So… The school it was.
Out of breath, I flopped down on the bed. Elaina sighed in contentment. “Henry, I swear it just gets better every time with you. How is that possible?”
“It’s quite insane really. I’m certain no one else could make my body feel the way you do. I thought my eyeballs were going to get stuck, rolled into the back of my head.” I cuddled her closer and placed a kiss next to her ear. “I love you, my black-haired beauty.”
“Right back at you, lover.” She ran her hand through her hair. “There may be a few gray strands in here now.”
“I don’t care. You are forever mine, no matter the gray hair or wrinkles.”
She cuddled further into me. “What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?”
“Gunther and I are supposed to work out. After that, who knows? I’m sure something will pop up,” I murmured with a devious little chuckle.
“Oh, no doubt. I’m going to help out in the garden today.”
“You take it easy. I don’t want you doing too much. I would prefer you just supervise. Maybe do the plotting on paper, or write me a love note.” I circled my hand around her belly. “Or how about you just stay here and bake this baby of ours?”
“Henry…,” she warned, rolling to face me. She poked my nose. “I’ll be careful.”
“I just don’t want you to overdo it. You promise?”
“Of course. Now let me up.”
“Fine.” I sighed. She wiggled out of my arms, grabbed her clothes, and headed for the loo.
I watched her every move. Simply amazing. Her body was unbelievable in her pregnant state. She wasn’t even showing much, just a small swell, but she’d already expanded in places that jacked me up. All I could think about was touching her curves. My obsession with her grew tenfold each day. Who knew Elaina could turn me on even more?
“What’s got you all smiley?”
I jumped. “Huh? Sorry. Lost in thought.”
As she walked out of the loo, concern spread across her face. “You all right, lover?”
“Just thinking about my beautiful wife.” I stood and embraced her, a groan rumbling from my chest. My thigh bumped the desk we used for a nightstand, a vial rolling to the floor shattered. “Shit. I’ll clean that up after I get dressed.”
“I’m going to go grab Cora.” She planted a quick kiss on my lips, then opened the door.
“Remember what I said!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered, waving her hand through the air.
I washed, dressed, and cleaned up the broken vial. While picking up the shards of glass, my pinky finger became the victim of circumstance.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered, examining the deep cut running along the pad.
As my tainted blood dripped down into my palm, I wrapped a washcloth around my finger and hurried into the clinic to glue it shut. The gash could have used a couple stitches, but I wasn’t going to bother. Cora was busy enough. She didn’t need me bugging her, as well. I needed to clean the cut with some sort of antiseptic first. Compromised already, I couldn’t risk infection.
I pulled back the curtain and looked through the storage closet. Nothing. Not even an antibiotic cream. Our supplies were dwindling fast. I sighed, my gaze settling on the lockbox, which housed what was left of the alcohol. The lock dan
gling from the latch was one of the many I grabbed from the hardware store up the road. I debated for several seconds, but knew what I had to do.
Cora was the only one with the combination, but this posed no problem. I could figure it out through touch.
My fingers shook as I turned the dial, feeling the faint, telltale click. I yanked my hands away as if they had been burned, then paced around the room. As I repeatedly ran my hand through my hair, I kept peeking over my shoulder at my doomed reality.
A whisper tore apart the silence within the room.
Liam…
It had been a while since my demons haunted me, but there were times when I would get lost in thought about my abysmal past and dubious future. When I killed Roger, I thought they would cease, but no. Here I was, dealing with them once again.
I cursed and sat on the cot across from the storage closet, pulling my knees into my chest. When the anxiety struck, my breathing increased to an alarming rate. Every time I exhaled, my body trembled. My demons continued to call for me.
Liam… Liam…
I covered my ears, trying to block their venom from seeping in. I rocked back and forth, gripping onto the back of my neck in an effort to pull my body further into itself to protect myself from the inevitable. Unable to cope, I choked out a sob. “No… Please, leave me alone.”
Liam…
When I realized where the voices were coming from, I looked up, focusing on the lockbox. All control was lost as I hopped off the cot. Of their own accord, my fingers grabbed the knob and began turning, waiting for the subtle feel of the lock’s inner workings.
Click.
I wiped away the sweat on my forehead, powering through the mental anguish, turning the dial one last time.
Click.
One quick pull and the lock popped open. In a hurried fashion, I unhooked it from the latch and opened the lid. Inside were a few bottles of vodka meant for wounds, not my demons.
Liam…
“Shut up,” I muttered.
The thirst surged through my body. My fingers flitted over the bottles, touching the labels. I wrapped my hand around one and held it for several long seconds, feeling the power it bestowed upon me before lifting it from the box.
“Just the cut,” I whispered to myself…or maybe my words were for my demons.
When laughter rolled into my ears, I whipped around, my gaze flying throughout the room. I rushed to the counter with bottle in tow. The familiar weight in my hand further unsettled me. I grabbed a few cotton balls from the vessel next to the sink and wondered if I should have had someone else take care of the cut.
“No. I can do this.” I wanted to prove to everyone, including myself, I was strong enough to take care of something as minor as sanitizing a cut.
I uncapped the bottle of vodka and licked my lips, which had gone dry. I quickly turned away from the counter, covering my parched mouth with the back of my hand, squeezing my shiny emeralds shut.
The memory thundered in at an unstoppable rate.
Blindfolded and zip tied to a metal chair. The large fist, wrapped with a belt full of grommets, connecting with my jaw, then my cheek. The buckle slapping across my forehead. Blood trickling down and collecting in the rough material tied taut around my eyes. Trying to pull away, but bound so tightly, it halted every effort to move because of the acute pain in my wrists and ankles.
I let out a small whimper.
Their voices screaming. Such horrible, cutting words filling my ears and seeping into my mind. Things no one should ever have to hear. Things no one should ever believe about themselves—but I did.
I believed every…fucking…word.
I slid down the cabinets and crashed to the floor. Once more, I covered my ears in an effort to free myself of my demons’ words, which knocked me down further than fists ever did.
Pick me up and drink me, Liam.
“No,” I moaned.
Drink up, Liam.
“I’m not him anymore,” I said through a snarled lip, fists clenched at my sides.
I said to drink!
“I won’t hurt Elaina again. I won’t do it!”
Drink, or punishment will be given.
“Shh, please. Please, leave me be. Please…,” I pleaded.
I was losing ground. My body quaked as I stood and paced away from the bottle.
I’m what you need, Liam.
“What I need is for you to shut the fuck up,” I growled.
Drink and I will do as you wish.
My gaze rose from the floor and landed on the label of the bottle. Absolut. The irony was not lost on me. “Just one sip,” I ordered myself.
Another chuckle came forward with an added chant of victory. I paced back to the bottle and snatched it, taking a deep breath as I lifted it to my lips. The room temperature liquid filled my mouth, dispensing a euphoria only an alcoholic knows. As it rushed down my throat, the burn resonated, bringing on an ample warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was glorious, but devastating at the same time.
Triumphant laughter continued as I tipped the bottle back once more. Taking a long pull, I thought one more would put my demons to rest.
My stomach relaxed as the alcohol settled in. The start of the numbness radiated through my body. The tip of my tongue captured the drop lingering on my lips.
I set the bottle next to the sink and braced my weight on my palms against the countertop. “Okay… I’m okay. Yes, I’m okay,” I said, consoling myself for the foolish behavior.
I grabbed the cotton balls and pressed them to the mouth of the bottle, tipping it to get them saturated. I sucked back a hiss between my clenched teeth as I swiped it over my finger. After letting it sit for a moment, I picked up a tube of super glue from one of the jars next to the sink and ran a bead over the laceration. The sear made me growl. Once the cut was sealed, I focused on the bottle. With a quick twist, I screwed the cap on and headed to the lockbox.
Don’t put me away, Liam. You know you want more.
The weight of the bottle in my palm was dreadful. The liquid…whether clear, amber, or a shade of red…was what I always craved. I set the bottle on the upper shelf in the storage closet, locked the box, and pulled the curtain closed. With a whimper of defeat, I grabbed the bottle and tucked it under my hoodie in between my arm and body.
I rushed out of the clinic and made it to the cafeteria, but soon stopped. I knew I shouldn’t hunker down and indulge, but it would make my demons stop. I knew it would.
It had to.
Keep walking, Liam.
Weakened by my own actions, the tingle in my mind nagged. I followed the sadistic command and headed to where the larger classrooms were. The science lab… I opened the door and scanned the room to see if I was alone.
Once stepping in, the door closed with a quiet click behind me. I looked around the room for the perfect spot and stalked over to the wall holding the whiteboard. Leaning against it, I made a slow descent, hitting the floor with a thud.
Well done, lad. Now, drink me.
After uncapping the bottle, I held it to my lips, deciding…
“No,” I muttered and pulled it away.
Do it! You know this is the only way…unless you saved a bullet. How messy would it be for your Elaina? Your unborn? Let us not forget mummy!
My face screwed up. “I don’t want to hurt them. They hurt enough because of me.”
Then fucking drink! It’s the only way!
The vicious shouting made me cringe. My hands shook as I brought the bottle back to my lips, pouring the liquid down my throat. After several gulps, I drew the bottle away from my mouth.
Already half gone.
There’s a good lad, Liam.
When the effects of the alcohol kicked in, my vision blurred. I raised the bottle to my lips and continued to guzzle until it was empty. My head hung as my body rested against the wall.
Bloody fucking shameful.
“Oh, god… What’ve I done?” I held the bottle tight a
nd heard the malevolent distant chuckle.
My eyelids flickered shut.
For who knows how long, I fell in and out of consciousness before I tried to stand and leave. The earth shifted beneath my feet, forcing me to shut my eyes. Slamming back against the wall, I slid down to the floor once more.
Finally, everything silenced as the familiar blackness welcomed me home.
Chapter 3
In his bed, Jake was busy doing not a damn thing, thinking about getting a bite to eat, when the wall attached to the room next door rattled. He hopped up and opened the door just enough to peek into the hallway.
Nothing.
No noises.
No panic.
“Strange,” he mumbled to himself. He left his room and went to the science lab. He cracked open the door and peered through. Booted feet… Jean-clad legs… A body sprawled out on the floor.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Afraid of what he would discover, he thought about going to find Henry or Gunther so they could check out the situation, but he wasn’t sure if there would be enough time.
Jake crept toward the body and saw Henry, an empty vodka bottle clutched in his hand.
“Fuck… This is not good.” Jake knelt in front of Henry and shook him. There wasn’t a single response. Not a moan, not even a twitch.
After checking for a pulse, he realized Henry was just passed out.
“Henry…” Jake patted his cheek. “Henry, wake up.” A small groan vibrated from Henry’s chest as he slumped over onto the floor. “I’m going to find Elaina.”
Jake ran out of the room and down the hall, only to see Elaina and Gunther rushing in his direction.
Even though she hadn’t been pulling weeds from the community’s garden too long, Elaina stood straight and rubbed at the ache in her lower back. She’d enlisted Eden and Farren to help with the weeds, while Savannah and Lauren picked the ripe vegetables. Anne, Cora, and Jane were busy planting the next round.
“Are you feeling okay?” Farren asked, gazing up at her.
Blind Faith (Shattered Lives, Book Four) Page 2
