The Bloodline Trilogy

by Adam Nicholls

  Blake sat up, shaking out of the dream and patting the space to his left. He felt nothing at all. Looking down, he found that Rachel had gone. Had he dreamt the night before? On the ground was one of her hairbands. Blake picked it up, looked at the lost strands of her beautiful blonde hair wrapped around it. It still smelled of her; the old her, not the living-in-a-warehouse her.

  As quickly as he could, Blake grabbed an extra layer and left the tent. Val and Jackie were both up, and he wondered what time it was. “Have you seen Rachel?” he asked, walking toward them and pulling the extra sweatshirt over his head.

  They looked at each other, then over to her tent. The flap was down.

  “I saw her creeping into your tent last night. I thought she was with you?” Jackie said.

  Oh God, no.

  Blake ran toward her tent and peered inside. Nothing. No belongings. Nothing but a sheet of paper lying where she’d always slept. His breath caught inside him, his heart racing. He scooped it up, unfolded it, and read.

  Blake,

  I’m so sorry to have left you. Everything I said last night was true, and that’s why I can’t be here any longer. Each day becomes harder, looking at the way you all have to live and realizing that I had a hand in making it that difficult for you.

  I can’t carry on this way. I would sooner accept the consequences of my actions than sleep on a floor surrounded by people I don’t deserve to be around. I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, not only for what I did before but also for this. For leaving you.

  Believe it or not, I’m a weak person, Blake. I know I don’t act like it, but I am. Realizing that also made me also realize you are something stronger, something special.

  If you ever get out of the situation you’re in, I pray that you can find it within yourself to forget about me and be with someone who deserves you. Someone who can make you feel every bit as wonderful as you really are.

  My love, always,

  Rachel

  Blake stared at the letter, a space hollowing out inside him. He felt useless.

  There were footsteps behind him, and the worried voice of Val. “Where is she?”

  Blake couldn’t speak. There were no words left that made any sense. He held the note out over his shoulder for Val to take and read for himself. Unsure of what to say, where to go, or what to do, he walked toward the fire exit to get some air.

  It was true that he had his father back and had found a new friend in Jackie, but without Rachel, he felt utterly alone.

  For the first time since he’d found them all, he began to cry.

  Chapter Six

  It was a question of what to do with himself. He couldn’t even begin to think about where Rachel had gone. She wouldn’t have been stupid enough to go back home, would she? She knew the risks of that. She knew she wouldn’t last long before the Agency caught up with her.

  Behind him, the fire door clanged open, and he heard the bucket of sand being dragged out to prop open the door—the default ritual they used when they went outside to go to the bathroom.

  “Are you okay, son?” Val’s voice, showing true concern.

  Blake turned to face him, his vision blurred by the moisture in his eyes. “I can’t believe this. I just…” He wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to say how much he loved her and tell him about what happened the previous night. However, he wasn’t one to kiss and tell, which limited him to how much he could say. “She came to see me last night. Told me how sorry she was. Told me that she… that we…”

  Val nodded understanding. “Oh.” Coming to stand by his side, he raised a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Listen, you know as well as I do that it’s dangerous for us out there. We should be keeping our ventures outside to an absolute minimum.”

  “I can’t—”

  “No, no. Just listen.”

  Blake wiped his eyes, prepared himself for what he was about to hear. He imagined it would be something that was out of his control, like they had to keep moving or he had to forget about her. It was a classic case of the father taking charge of the situation. It made him feel young and stupid. He hated that.

  “Rachel is family to us,” Val said. “I mean, she’s important to you, but we all agreed that we were in this together. That was the deal.”

  Blake looked up at him.

  “That’s to say that, it’s a huge risk and a bit of a stupid thing to do, but if you want to go out and find her, we’re with you all the way. But we must keep our heads low, you understand? No running after her as part of some emotional reaction or a bad example of heroics. You stick your neck out, you’re sticking our necks out. Now, I’ve spoken to Jackie. She’s in. All you need to do is say the word.”

  Blake could feel his heart melting, a sudden liking for Val. Until now, he’d been going over in his head how he could forgive him for everything: the lies, the killing, the predicament that started all this off—faking his death. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “Her place?”

  Blake shook his head.

  “Well, did she have anyone close to her? Parents, friends?”

  It dawned on him that she’d probably gone to the one person in the outside world she could trust. The thought that she could say the things she’d said and run into the arms of another man made him sick. But as much as he hated to admit it, she’d probably gone to visit her boyfriend. “Sean. Her… friend.”

  “You know where he lives?” Val asked.

  Blake stopped and thought back to a time that he’d picked her up from there because Sean had failed to turn up, and she’d stayed there getting drunk. She was a mess when she’d climbed into his car. She’d made a mess too, but Blake had made a promise that he would be there for her through thick and thin, so there he was. “Unless he’s moved in the past year, I know his address.”

  “Well then,” Val patted him on the shoulder and headed back inside, “let’s get going.”

  Rachel stood at the door with her hands shaking, uncertain how he would react.

  It was the first place she’d gone, and the excitement of seeing him again made her tremble. Not that he was particularly caring or considerate, but she knew that Sean would never let anything happen to her, and that in itself was enough reason for her to head over there. That, and she couldn’t wait for a real shower and a good meal.

  Feeling like a horrific person for leaving her friends at the warehouse, she rang the buzzer and stood gnawing her fingernails. She couldn’t hear anything through the door. Was he even home? She didn’t know what she would do if he’d gone out somewhere.

  Footsteps padded behind her.

  Rachel froze. Was this him? The LAPD? She wondered if they were keeping tabs on Sean, watching him to see if she would return. It seemed ridiculous, a waste of resources and time. They would never be able to manage the loss of all that manpower. Not in a million years. All the same, the fear of being wrong kept her grounded, leaving her too terrified to turn and find out.

  “Rachel?”

  For a moment, she hardly recognized him. His clothes were torn, and his nose was crooked and swollen, covered by a thin, blood-stained bandage. It was like he’d been dragged through a hedge. But she supposed she didn’t look much better. “Sean, I…” She ran into his arms, pressed her cheek against his chest. “Please, can we just not talk about it?” she said, hot tears dripping onto his T-shirt.

  She felt his arms around her. “Sure. It’s okay.”

  “What happened to you?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

  “I could ask the same thing.” He smirked. “Let’s go inside, get cleaned up and talk it through little by little. No pressure.”

  It was better than any idea she could have come up with.

  He led her into his apartment, pressing a hand on the small of her back to encourage her inside, and then told her to sit on the couch while he had a shower. It wasn’t unlike him. Sean had always had bad manners, but it was forgivable. He h
ad an impressive build, and he was absolute dynamite in bed. For a while, she’d thought herself as shallow, but she soon found herself in a more committed relationship. It always puzzled her how something so casual had evolved into something more concrete.

  When he emerged from the steamy bathroom, Rachel went inside and had her turn. The hot water rolled off her skin, washing away weeks of dirt and grime. It felt as though a layer of poison was peeling off and revealing a fresh, new Rachel. When she turned the water off, she wiped the mist off the mirror and examined her naked body for a moment. She’d never had so many bruises in all her life—the pains of sleeping on a hard floor and having to dive into a van at every suspicion that they were being followed. But that life was behind her now. She was safe, and she could stay here for a long, long time.

  Sean had left clothes out for her, ones she’d kept there for when she stayed over. She rushed into them, eager to feel the soft cotton against her skin.

  It felt like she had taken an hour. She came out of the bathroom and had to look around for Sean. She could hear his voice muffled somewhere in the back room, which he used as a movie and gaming room.

  Who is he talking to?

  Rachel approached the door and wrapped her fingers around the door handle. She held her breath and pushed her ear to the wood. She could hear his footsteps pacing across the room. Rachel twisted the knob, but before she got a chance to push it open, it was pulled from the other side.

  Sean stood there, holding the cordless phone and looking guilty as hell.

  “What are you up to?” she asked, slowly letting the last word out. Something seemed wrong, but it was probably just a dash of paranoia. Her overcautious mind playing tricks on her. She’d been on the run for over six weeks, and it was hard to settle back into behaving normal, relaxed, like nothing was wrong.

  “Nothing, babe.” He dropped the phone back into its cradle with a beep and pulled her close to him.

  Then, the unexpected.

  Sean kissed her on the lips… and she felt nothing.

  That spark of electricity that had been there before, that excitement that kept her wanting more and more, had disappeared. But why? She still found him attractive—no question about it—but that just didn’t seem to be enough. She didn’t kiss him back, only pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  If only I knew. She rolled those words around on her tongue for a while, staring into nothingness, until it finally struck her that it was the phone that was bothering her. “Who were you talking to?” She hated to ask, always had. Nothing made her seem more like a crazy, obsessive teen than asking about his every conversation.

  But she needed to know.

  “Just… a friend,” Sean said, and then pulled the door closed behind him. He led her to the dining room table and sat her down. “How about I make something for us to eat? Let’s fill up, and we can talk about what to do and where you’ve been.”

  Just as he turned to walk away, Rachel grabbed his wrist. “How about you tell me who you were talking to?”

  He snatched his hand away, recoiling as if offended. “For God’s sake, Rachel. It was just Dan from the gym. Why so obsessive?”

  It must have been a lie. Must have been. He was acting way too suspicious, like a kid who swore blind that he hadn’t touched the cake, but the chocolate stains around his lips begged to differ. “Then you’ll have no problem with me hitting redial?” She shot to her feet and went straight for the phone.

  Sean threw himself in her way.

  “Move,” she said to him, traces of fear leaking through her voice.

  “No. Why can’t you just trust me?”

  “Because you’re lying to me.”

  “No,” he said, his cheeks turning dark red. He definitely had something to hide.

  Rachel couldn’t move. She was stuck on the spot with this man standing before her, unwilling to let her slip by. Fear blended with a sudden disliking, making her regret her decision to come back to him. The Sean she’d known would never have hesitated to let her check. But that was before. Back when she could trust him. “This was a bad idea,” she told him and tried to squeeze past so she could get to the front door.

  His hands clamped around her arms. “Where are you going? This is stupid, Rach.”

  Rachel fussed, tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. She needed to get out of there right away. “Let me go. Please. I need to be somewhere.” She squirmed and thrashed and did everything to shake him off until he pushed her back into the chair.

  “You’re going nowhere. I’m sorry. I just can’t let you go.”

  Something primal took over her then. She reached for a bowl on the table beside her, which had been crammed full of fruit only when it was new. It had been her idea to put some freshness into the dining room. Now, she was glad she had. Her fingers wrapped around the lip, and she smashed it over his head.

  The glass shattered, broke off in clean chunks, and crumbled to the floor.

  Sean stumbled backward, dazed.

  Rachel ran for the door, sweating through her soft new clothes. Her heart was pounding. This was not how she had imagined this would go.

  His voice rang out from behind her, angry and humiliated. “Rachel!”

  She stopped at the door, fidgeting with the chain and trying to open it. Why is the chain bolted across? She hadn’t noticed him do it on their way in. Rachel unhooked it, twisted the lock, and pried open the door. She made it onto the landing and headed for the stairs before feeling the fierce grasp of his arms around her.

  They were trapping her. He had her now, and no matter how hard she kicked and screamed and tried to scratch her way free, she couldn’t get herself out of his grip.

  Rachel felt useless as he dragged her back to the apartment.

  He threw her down on the inside hallway with a fresh cut across his forehead, where her nails had caught him. He slammed the door. “Why the hell did you have to go and do that? I was sorry before, but now I don’t give a shit about you. I hope he hurts you.” He towered over her, pointing in her face.

  On the floor, she crawled backward, feeling pathetic and vulnerable. “You hope who hurts me?” But she was starting to get an idea of who he was talking about, and in an instant, everything clicked. “Sean… What did you do?”

  Chapter Seven

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Val asked from the passenger seat. There was a strong uncertainty in his voice. “Maybe I should go with you.”

  They were parked across the street from Sean’s apartment block, hoping against hope that he was inside. With the way their luck had been lately, it would be a miracle for something to actually go their way.

  “I’ll be fine,” Blake told him, sitting in his usual spot at the back of the van. He gripped the pistol in his hand, and he was ready to use it if he had to, though he hoped his accuracy had improved since the last time he’d aimed at a target. He still only had one bullet, and he couldn’t afford to miss. Not if it meant saving Rachel.

  “Forget it. I’m going with you whether you like it or not,” Val said, clearly not happy about sending his son into immediate danger.

  “No,” Jackie intruded. “You’re too old.”

  Blake blurted out a short, sharp laugh, catching it in his hand when he saw that Jackie’s expression didn’t change.

  “Really,” she said, remaining firm. “I have some experience with a gun, and you’re a better driver than I am. If anything goes wrong, you can get us out of here more easily. I’m a little more nimble.” She had a look on her face that suggested she knew how offensive she sounded, but what she said was true.

  Val sighed. “All right, you better get going.”

  Blake climbed out of the side door, and Jackie stepped out beside him. “Sure you’re okay with that thing?” She aimed a finger at his gun as he tucked it into his belt.

  He’d always felt self-conscious when he did that, worried it might
fire into his lap and shoot something off. It was only to cross the road, however, and he could remove it as soon as they entered the building. “I think so.” He took a deep breath, and they headed toward the apartment block.

  When they got to the door, Blake felt a dash of horror cross his heart.

  “What’s wrong?” Jackie said.

  “The door,” he said. The lock had been broken off the front, the brass hanging from it like someone had been in a rush to get inside. He no longer cared if any of the neighbors saw it; he drew the gun and held it like Greg had taught him. “Keep behind me,” he said to Jackie, though it didn’t feel quite right. He knew about her military background and felt that she was more suitable to be holding the firearm.

  At least he knew his back was safe.

  They ascended the stairs, checking the numbers on the doors as they passed. Blake grew more and more frustrated each time he discovered they had to go up another floor. When they found the correct door, they stopped, and Blake considered what he had to do.

  Jackie offered a nod of assurance, took over, and knocked for him.

  Blake stood to the side while she stayed in direct line of the peephole.

  There was no answer.

  She knocked again and heard the stirrings of someone inside. “LAPD! Open up!” she screamed. As they were on the run, it was easy to forget she’d once been a police officer. That the Agency had nearly killed her. That life was behind her now, and Blake could only hold Val responsible.

  Jackie heel-kicked the door with tremendous strength, but it only weakened. She did it a second time, and it flung open. Blake swooped in front of her, the gun pointed out in front of him in trembling hands.

  The inner hallway was dark and smelled of burned firewood. Blake sniffed at the air and followed the scent through to the only open doorway, which lent light to the floor in front of him. Is it a trap? Val had told him how important it was that he realized nothing was quite how it seemed. Blake had a feeling that if he went into this room, he may never come out. “Rachel!” he called, hoping it would be of some use.