by J. C. Cliff
I glance him in bewilderment. “You’re a pretty smart little guy,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I know,” he says nonplussed, as if this isn’t news to him. Fuck me, but this kid isn’t lacking any self-esteem.
He sits on his knees beside me then lifts the plastic rim to my lips, tipping the water bottle up for me. Half of the water dribbles down my chin and onto my shirt, but I don't give a fuck. The cool water tastes good going down my parched throat. He pulls the bottle away from my lips, allowing me to catch my breath.
We both sit in silence for a moment, staring each other down. He tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing me as if he’s just now seeing me for the first time. He’s processing something in that little mind of his, and oddly, he doesn’t seem too troubled about all the blood and swelling going on.
Now that he’s up close and personal with a little bit of light shining on his features, I’m seeing something familiar in him, and it’s a tad unnerving.
I lean forward to get a better look at him, and when I do, I freeze in shock. I can't help but see his every feature and how uncanny the resemblances are. Not the similarities of Valerie’s and Graham’s, but of my own.
James shifts closer to me as well, both of us processing the other’s looks, and when the light hits his eyes, illuminating them in such a way I almost choke on my own spit. My theory is confirmed. I find myself staring back into my own set of eyes.
I swear to God, I’m at a fucking loss for words. James sits here just as dumbstruck as I am, because I think he’s seeing the same things I am. But it's not possible. My mind reflects back on everything Quinn had briefed us on. He's too young to be mine. The timing is all wrong, yet all the evidence is right here before me.
“So cool,” James says with rapt wonder, him being the first to break the silence. “You have the same eyes as me.”
“Yeah,” I manage to croak out. “You know what that means, don't you?” His eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “It means we’re special. Nobody has these exact same eyes but you and me. It means we’re supposed to be best friends for life.”
His eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yep, but this has to be our secret. We can't tell anybody.” He's enthralled, hanging on my every word. He nods his little blond head, agreeing to keep our secret.
I groan in pain as I shift my weight on the hard concrete floor. The look of concern he has for me reminds me of Valerie and her concern for humankind. The kid seems far too young to be able to exude such sympathy, but he does.
“James?”
“Yeah?”
“How old are you?”
He proudly holds up four fingers, which tells me the timing is severely off if he were to be mine. Then he does something that makes my heart skip two full beats. He extends his thumb out, making the numbers add up to five, as he says, “I’m really this many, but my daddy tells everyone I’m four.”
My throat is so fucking tight I can't breathe. There's no fucking way. Valerie would not have done this to me. He cups his little hand around his mouth as if he's telling me a secret and nobody else should hear it, even though we're the only ones down here in this godforsaken hell. “It’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell,” I promise. I'm trying to keep my head on straight here and think fast on my feet, but it's hard as fuck when I just found out I have a son. A five-year-old son! One who looks exactly like me when I was his age. I swear I'm looking back twenty-seven years in time. I could be staring into a mirror, the resemblance too remarkable to ignore. Too many emotions are trying to run through me at once. I close my eyes and push them all away in order to focus on the here and now.
“Does your father know you’re down here?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He shakes his head. “My daddy would be very mad at me if he knew. I’m not allowed down here.”
I want to laugh out loud so fucking bad, but I hold it back. He’s all boy and just as explorative and defiant as I was at his age, but I don’t want him to get in trouble. However, I don’t plan on getting back in those chains again either.
“Can you do me a favor, since were best friends now?”
He nods, eager to please.
“Is there a way to sneak out of here?”
CHAPTER 44
~ Valerie ~
This morning, I had woken up on a mission: track down Celia and wring her neck. If Caleb hadn’t been there to intervene, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stop myself from doing irreparable damage. I was after blood. Even now, I’m still seething, wanting to seek retribution for all she had been part of. The worst kind of traitor was living day in and day out with me, feeding me lie after lie.
I don’t know where Valerie Carson was hiding all these years, but long gone is the demure southern belle I once was. Now, I’m on a warpath. The need for vengeance runs thick in my veins.
Graham forced me to take a sleeping pill last night. I didn’t have a choice. It was either that or he was going to drug me with an injectable again. He even told me he would keep drugging me if he felt it was warranted. The bastard. Maybe he thought I’d try to kill him in the middle of the night, or attempt to sneak off. I was already warned there was no escape, and his compound was not only fenced in, but it’s heavily guarded too.
Before the sleeping pill took effect last night, I told Graham to leave me to myself, but he refused to sleep in another room. When I got up to leave, he threatened to tie me down in his bed if I didn’t stay. I was so livid over being micromanaged and trapped I was beside myself. By that point, I was glad then for the drug, because I needed something to help me escape from the harsh realities. I’d never been more thankful for my period, either. I was sure the next threat he would hold over me would be sex.
As I sat in his bedroom, waiting like a good little girl for his return, my mind kept spinning over the past twenty-four hours. He honestly believes I will eventually come around and forgive him for everything he’s done, and pick up the pieces right where we left off. I don’t know how he figures as such. I would never stand for his criminal activities, hidden secrets, and betrayal.
I realize it’s going to take some time for me to figure out an escape plan. I don’t even know exactly where I am, or how far away from civilization we are. I figure the best course of action for right now is to gain Graham’s trust, and build back the lost relationship I had with my son, so when it comes time to escape, he will choose to go with me. God knows what he’s been brainwashed to believe over the past twelve months, or what hidden systems Graham has put into place, assuring the boy’s loyalty.
If it wasn’t obvious enough before, it is now, just how much he loves being in control and holding power over everyone. I knew he had a fetish of sorts for antique guns and firearms, but I had no idea he was selling illegal arms. When I asked him what else he was involved in, he shut me down, not willing to answer.
It was several hours before Graham finally came back to the bedroom, and my anger was still running high. I’m not sure, but I think Graham was secretly happy that my wrath was focused on Celia for the moment, and not him. He took me by surprise by telling me he’d already banished Celia from the main house until further notice. He vowed to keep her away from me. I think he was hoping to gain a few brownie points with me by playing good cop. Part of me wonders what else I can do to manipulate him, using him to my advantage.
Right now, Graham and I are sitting down at a square gaming table in the expanse of his library. An ornate chess set made of real ivory is sitting between us. He runs his finger back and forth over the king’s cross, as he goes over his house rules and how I’m supposed to behave in front of our son.
I was told what I can and can’t say in front of James, and Graham couldn’t look more stern and stringent about his stipulations if he tried. His authoritarian eyes are so expressive they tell me everything I need to know. There is no room for error on my part, and if I mess up, it will cost me dearly.
; Knots form in my stomach, over the promised threats, and I’m worried I’m somehow going to screw this up. Even though Graham appears to be the same man I married, I don’t recognize him. His dictatorial and oppressive decrees infuriate me to no end, but I know I have to play my cards right if I want to win in the end.
Never removing his gaze from mine, Graham pushes a button in the side of his watch, then speaks in a low voice, “Show him in.”
My heart beats double-time the second he says those three words. I grip the side of the wooden table, steeling myself for a shot of courage I don’t have. The door slowly opens, and my breath gets caught in my throat. My little blond boy walks through the door, looking so grown up.
Before I know it, I’ve rushed to meet him and fall on my knees as I wrap him in a tight embrace. His little body is not so small anymore; he’s grown. He wraps his arms around my neck and I start to cry. “Oh, my sweet James!”
“I missed you, Mommy,” he says in a strained voice, probably because I’m squishing him. I ease up on the bear hug I have him in. Tears stream down my face as I control my emotions. My throat is clogged with tears, but somehow I’m able to garble out the words, “I love you, James. Mommy has missed you so much.”
I pull back so I can look at him through blurry eyes to see just how alive he truly is. He’s grown so tall over the past twelve months. Despite my waterlogged eyes, I give them the biggest smile I can muster. “How did you get so tall?” I ask him, knowing he’s always wanted to grow up to be big and strong.
My little boy beams with pride, “I’ve been eating vegetables,” he says the word all wrong, but damn it’s so cute. “I’ve been missing you so bad, Mommy.”
My heart clenches at his confession. I pull him back into my arms and hold him tight. "I will never let you go again. I promise,” I tell him with fierce resolve. “I will never, never go on a trip without you ever again. I swear it.”
After the initial shock wears off, James talks nonstop, trying to bring me up to speed on the past year in a matter of minutes. I’ve soaked in every single word that leaves his mouth for the past half-hour, enjoying him rattling on and on.
He’s been homeschooled over the past year, and I know Graham has hired nothing but the best. “He’s skipped right over kindergarten and is wrapping up first grade,” Graham says proudly. I knew he was a smart boy, but I had no idea he had such a high IQ. I suppose James got that from his father.
I hate that he’s been on this godforsaken compound with no true friends, and without the opportunity to experience the American life I had planned for him. Instead, he was stolen away from me, and I would just die if I ever found out he thought on occasion that he wasn’t important enough to me, because I wasn’t there for him over the past year.
“You do know I've missed you something terrible, don't you?” I ask, making sure he truly hasn’t suffered. Even though Graham told me, I want to hear it from James.
“Oh, yes I do! And I saved all your letters and pictures that you sent me. Daddy reads them to me when I miss you.”
I almost break down again, but it’s quelled by the feelings of anger as I think of how Celia kept in touch with my son the entire time, robbing me blind in every aspect. She had known everything.
“And Auntie Celia sent me stuff, too.”
I look at my son in confusion. “Auntie Celia?” I look at Graham with a raised brow. “Since when did she become Auntie Celia?” I ask almost bitterly. Our friendship was all based on lies from the very beginning, and I have to wonder what’s been in it for her all along.
“She’s Daddy’s sister,” James tells me, as if I should already know this bit of news. I look from James back to Graham, the look of displeasure written all over my face.
He nods, confirming. “She’s my sister.”
“A minor detail you failed to mention in all our years together,” I say in a tone so James won’t know I’m pissed off.
Graham tilts his head to the side and looks at me in warning. The muscles in his jaw tic, and I know I’m skating on thin ice.
“Sir, you have an important phone call,” Caleb calls out from the doorway. I turn to look at Caleb, and know immediately he didn’t want to interrupt Graham.
“I’m busy right now,” Graham growls with irritation.
“I understand, sir, and I would not interrupt, but there has been a complication with one of your deliveries.”
Graham curses underneath his breath, and I think my visit with James is going to get cut short. “Give me a few seconds.” Graham stands up as Caleb leaves, and I brace myself for the separation. I haven’t been nice to him, but somehow when Graham sees the look of desperation on my face, his eyes soften.
He bends down beside me and James, but keeps his eyes solely on mine. Leaning in to me, he whispers, “I’m going against the very thing I said I wouldn’t do, which is leave you alone with him. So don’t mess this up.”
I stare up into his eyes, taken off guard. He’s allowing me to be alone with James. Relief consumes me, and my eyes fill back up with water. The tears are not for gratitude, but for the anger I feel—that I would need permission to spend one-on-one time with my own son.
“I promise,” I choke out the words. My display of false gratefulness must satisfy him, because he tells me he’ll be back as soon as he can. Just before he leaves the room, he turns around, and tells James, “Maybe you can show your mother around some? Show her your room or something?”
“Oh yeah!” James says excitedly.
When it’s just me and James left to ourselves, he gets really close and whispers in my ear the way Graham just did. His little bursts of breath tickling my neck, as he excitedly asks, “Can I tell you a secret?” I pull back and look at him with a grin. He looks so thrilled I don't think he can contain himself.
“Of course you can,” I reply with a teary smile.
His eyes go wide and serious. “It’s a real secret. You can’t tell daddy. If you do, I will be in big trouble.”
He’s going to trust me already? After a full year of being away? He acts as if no time had passed between us. “I would never rat you out. I promise.” I cross my heart with my index finger, thinking I’m just as charged up as he is. We’ve only been together for a half-hour, and he wants to confide in me. I have no words for that.
“I made a new best friend.”
I look surprised for his sake and make a big deal of it, because in his eyes, it is. “You did?”
He nods his head quickly, adding, “And guess what? We have the same eyes.” He works to hold up three fingers, explaining, “I counted the colors.”
“Three colors in his eyes, just like you?” I ask, a little confused. Maybe he’s made an imaginary friend.
“Uh-huh, and his name is Obi-Wan.”
“Oh my God,” I blurt out on accident, and cover my racing heart with my hand. Stryker always referred to himself as Obi-Wan all the time, teasing me every chance he got, because he’s always such a know-it-all. He even said it a few times in the clinic this past week.
“What's a matter, Mommy?”
“Nothing, baby. I'm just so excited for you.” I shake myself from the shock, because this has to be impossible. “What kind of name is Obi-Wan?” I ask, as if it’s the most ridiculous name I’d ever heard. “Have you seen Star Wars yet?” I hope this is where he came up with the name.
James just giggles at me. “Dad says TV, cartoons, and movies will rot my brain out.”
There’s no way Stryker could’ve found me, not out here, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get past the first guard. “Where does this boy live?” I ask cautiously, hoping to quell my fears.
“Ssh,” he says with a finger pressed to his lips. “He’s not a boy. He’s a big man,” he whispers so faintly I can barely hear him. “He’s downstairs in the dungeon.”
My heart is in my throat, all the alarm bells going off in my head. “Is he there now?” I question, holding my breath.
He nods his he
ad, then proceeds to tell me, “He’s bald, Mommy. He said he got tired of combing his hair. Can I shave my head too?”
My mind is swimming. I hold on to the gaming table beside me to keep my bearings, because I feel like I'm going to pass out.
“I’m not sure, baby. Maybe we should wait a little while before we make a decision like that.” I suggest these things on autopilot, not even sure what I’m saying, just so I can appease James, because all I can think about is Stryker is here? Downstairs in Graham’s basement?
“I had to give him my Band-Aids, but I think he needs bigger ones,” James says thoughtfully. I cover my mouth with my hand in shock, and sink the rest of the way to the floor. My entire body goes numb, as James rambles on, “I snuck him some food, too.” Then James puffs out his chest as if he’s proud of himself. “When everyone’s asleep, I’m gonna help him escape the jail.”
I think I'm gonna vomit. This is too much. This morning’s emergency, when I wanted to decapitate Celia, must've been why Graham was talking in code and sent me to his room. Stryker came after me? How? Why? And oh my God, my eyes roll back in my head as I think about how he must now realize who James actually is.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie. I can barely get the word out before I'm cupping my mouth. I get up and run to the little bathroom in the library. I’m going to be sick.
After I’ve lost my breakfast and rinse out my mouth, I dab my face with cool water. A little knock sounds at the door a minute later, and I still can’t seem to get a grip on myself. I splash water on my face one more time then pat my face dry before opening the bathroom door. “Sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay.” He shrugs then tilts his head to the side. “You’re not gonna tell on me, are you?”
I get down on my knees and wrap James in a hug. “Never. I swear it.” My heart is shattering in a million pieces. Stryker is in serious trouble, and my son is putting himself in danger wanting to help him. Maybe it’s fate? Maybe it’s our opportunity for James and me to get out too. “I’d like to meet your friend too. Would that be okay?”
