Surviving Slater

by Regan Ure

  I hugged him tight, not wanting to let go, but his arms slackened and I looked up at him.

  "Tell me."

  He stepped away from me, putting distance between us.

  "What happened?" I whispered.

  "I believed I was doing the right thing." He shook his head. He looked up at the ceiling to compose himself. "Social Services stepped in and took us into care."

  The guilt I felt reared up like a hand squeezing tightly on my throat, cutting off my breath.

  "Shannon?" I whispered.

  He shook his head, his jaw tight. "They couldn't put us in the same foster home."

  I reeled backward, trying to maintain my composure.

  "I went through all of that, and I still ended up in a home where no one cared. My foster father was a drug addict and my foster mom worked to support it. And what was worse, Shannon was alone and I had Sin."

  Reaching out, I touched his shoulder. I could feel his muscles tense beneath my fingers.

  "What happened to Shannon?" I found myself asking.

  At my question, he pulled away from me and I let my hand fall.

  "I can't talk about that." He wasn't ready to tell me how she died. My heart broke for him.

  The emotion I'd been trying to keep at bay was becoming harder to control. I could feel the sting of tears but I clenched my teeth to stop myself from allowing them to flow.

  "I betrayed her," he murmured, sounding defeated.

  "No—"

  "If I'd just kept my mouth shut, it wouldn't have happened. She would have stayed with me." He clenched his fists. "But I was weak."

  "It—" I tried to argue but he cut me off.

  "I wasn't strong enough."

  I closed the distance but he pulled away again.

  "You can't know that for sure," I said, determined to let him see it from another viewpoint. "How do you know that if you hadn't said something things wouldn't have ended the same way?"

  He continued to stare at me, and I could see it wasn't something he had considered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The encounter was still on my mind later that week when I received another call from Connor. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. I was finished with classes and on my way back to the apartment. It was Friday so I usually got some clothes and then spent the weekend with Slater. We hadn't reached the stage of me leaving stuff at his place yet.

  "Hi, Connor."

  "Hi, Jordan," he said. "I have some good news."

  I stopped. He must have finally discovered how Shannon had died.

  "What did you find?" I asked.

  "I found her." His statement left me more confused.

  "You mean the grave?" I questioned.

  "What are you talking about?" Connor asked, sounding as confused as I was.

  "Shannon, Slater's sister, is dead."

  There were several seconds of silence.

  "No, she isn't. I found her."

  I clutched the phone tighter as I tried to take in his news. Shannon was alive?

  "That's impossible," I said in a whisper. My mind was trying to figure out how it was possible Slater mourned a sister who wasn't dead. It made no sense.

  "The guy who has been on this has assured me she is the person we are looking for. I'm going to check it out," he said. "Do you want to come with me?"

  "When?" I asked, still stunned.

  "I can have a car pick you up in an hour," he said. "I'll have a jet waiting for you."

  A plane ride. "Where is she?" I asked. I had never been on a plane before and felt nervous about traveling on my own. But I had to do this for Slater. If Connor was right and by some miracle Shannon was still alive, I had to see it for myself. I couldn't trust anyone else to do this for me.

  I had peeked into his soul and had seen the grief he lived with. I couldn't risk telling him his sister was alive if there was any possibility it might not be true. It would destroy him.

  "New York."

  I tried to plan in my head. I usually spent weekends with Slater, so if I wanted to go with Connor, I would have to make up an excuse.

  This was massive. I couldn't tell him his sister was alive unless I made sure it was true. But would confronting her work? Would she look like him? There was only one way to find out.

  "Yes."

  As soon as he disconnected the call, I called Slater.

  "What's up?" he asked. I felt the pang of guilt for the lies I was going to tell him.

  "I have to go away this weekend," I told him, hurrying along the corridor. I didn't have a lot of time to get back to my apartment to pack.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice casual.

  "I need to go and see my mom this weekend," I lied. "She called and guilted me into going back home for a couple of days."

  "I can take you, if you want," he offered.

  I hesitated.

  "She's already on her way up to pick me up." I hated lying.

  "Okay. Call me when you get there."

  "I will."

  I hated every minute of lying to him but I didn't have a choice. Back at the apartment, I grabbed a bag and threw some clothes into it. I got only the necessities and zipped it up.

  I peered at the window and saw a car arrive. It was the type of expensive car Connor usually used. I remembered to send a text message to tell Levi I was going out of town for the weekend.

  Enjoy! he sent back. It wasn't anything unusual. Most of my time was spent at Slater's place anyway.

  The driver took my bag when I got downstairs and put it into the trunk of the car. During the car ride, I began to weigh the implications of what Connor had discovered. I gazed out the window and tried to imagine Slater's reaction to hearing his younger sister, whom he thought was dead, was in fact still alive and living in New York.

  It was still so unbelievable.

  I called Slater from the airport outside where it wasn't too busy. As far as he was concerned I had just arrived at my mother's place. I kept the conversation short, worried that I would let something slip.

  It didn't take long before the private jet took off, heading to New York. Despite being tired, I couldn't sleep. I shifted in my seat uncomfortably when I realized if this was true, there was no keeping it from him and he would find out how I had asked Connor to dig into his past.

  He cared about me but I couldn't convince myself he could forgive me for this. But if this was true, I couldn't keep it from him.

  I had seen firsthand the weight he carried every day, the darkness intermingled with the sadness in his eyes when he talked about his sister. I would tell him the truth even if it meant losing him.

  By the time I landed I had managed to get a few hours' sleep but I still felt tired and nervous about what lay ahead. The car that picked me up went straight to Connor's apartment in New York.

  I always knew he had money but to be confronted with it in the form of a penthouse apartment was a whole different story.

  "So this is how the other half lives?" I said out loud when I was shown in.

  He was standing by the big windows that overlooked Central Park dressed in an expensive gray suit.

  "You're here." He turned to face me. "How was your flight?"

  "It was good."

  "You hungry?"

  I nodded. I had been offered food on the flight but my nerves had stopped me from eating.

  Over breakfast, while I ate, Connor got the file.

  "It's all in here," he said, sliding the folder over to me.

  As I chewed my toast, I opened the folder. There were pictures but it was hard to see similarities.

  She was tall, with long, wavy black hair. Slater's was light brown. She did have the same golden tan Slater had. They also shared the same pale eyes. I frowned as I pored over the pictures, looking for something to convince me she was my boyfriend's long-lost dead sister.

  "How are we going to know for sure it's her?" I asked finally, giving up on trying to figure it out on my own.

&nb
sp; "The guy who finally found her has records that follow her from the time she was taken into foster care and up to this point. It is definitely her."

  He looked convinced, but I didn't feel the same.

  "What are we going to do now?" He had wanted me to fly to New York to make sure, so he must have a plan.

  "We're going to meet her," he announced.

  "How?" I asked. I had no idea what he had in store.

  "She is coming here for a meeting," he revealed before taking a sip of coffee that was so thick it looked like tar.

  "A meeting?" I asked. "Does she know who we are?"

  "No," he answered. "She is a model and she is coming for an interview for a modeling job."

  I didn't know her but the thought of meeting her even under the lie of an interview nearly broke me out in a cold sweat.

  "Do you think this is the best way to handle it?" I asked, feeling like we were doing something underhanded.

  "This is a delicate matter that needs to be handled face to face," he began to explain, setting his cup of coffee down on the table. "The only way to accomplish that is for it to seem like a potential job."

  "Okay." I sighed. "I trust you."

  He nodded.

  "Thank you for doing this for me."

  "After reading the files, I have to admit it's a story I want to see end in a family reunited. If I were in his shoes I would want to know where my sister was." It was so Connor.

  "What time will she be here?" I asked, hoping there was time for me to clean up and change.

  "In an hour."

  "Good. I need a shower."

  He showed me to a guest bedroom.

  "There's an en suite you can use," he said, showing me the door. "What did you tell Slater?"

  "I told him I was going to my mom's for the weekend."

  He nodded. "When you're done, I'll be in the study," he said before leaving me alone in the room.

  For a moment I lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath in and out, I tried to calm my nerves.

  I was going to meet Slater's sister! The responsibility of the secret that had started off innocently had now taken on a life of its own, growing and becoming bigger than I had ever anticipated.

  I felt more human after I had a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes. I towel-dried my hair before I went looking for Connor in his study.

  The door was closed so I knocked.

  "Come in," he instructed.

  I pushed the door open. He was sitting at a big oak desk, going through some papers.

  "Have a seat." He indicated the chair across from him.

  I sat down.

  "Why did you think she was dead?" he asked, leaning back in the leather chair.

  "That's what Slater told me." Talking about what he told me didn't feel right but Connor needed to know. "He told me they were both taken into foster care but they were split up."

  "Did he say how he found out she had died?" he asked.

  "No," I replied. "He didn't want to talk about it."

  Connor seemed to contemplate what I told him.

  "What happened after she went into care?" I asked, even though I wasn't sure I was ready for the details.

  "The first foster home only lasted a couple of years before she was moved to another one."

  My frown deepened. "How many foster homes was she in?"

  "Five," he answered. "And that's where things got complicated."

  "What happened?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. I had never met her but I was already rooting for her.

  "She ran away from the last foster home when she was sixteen, and then she disappeared."

  I was thoughtful as I digested the information.

  "Why does Slater believe she's dead?" I asked, trying to tie up what he was telling me with what Slater had revealed.

  "I'm not sure. My investigator had to put in long hours and lots of groundwork to track her down. That's why I believe we have the right person."

  I checked my watch. It was nearly time for the meeting.

  Someone knocked on the slightly open door.

  "Come in."

  "Your appointment is here," a business-like woman said as she entered. She didn't bother looking at me. She was impeccably dressed, not a strand of her dark brown hair out of place and her perfect makeup making me feel underdressed around her.

  "See her in." With that, the older woman left.

  "Who's that?" I asked.

  "My personal assistant, Alice."

  It was the first time I had a glimpse into Connor's busy life.

  "Let me do the talking," he instructed when the door opened.

  He stood up and I mimicked his actions when Alice showed in a younger woman. She was my age but there was a steeliness in her eyes, like she was tougher on the inside.

  "I'm Riley," she said, introducing herself to Connor. They shook hands briefly.

  Was this really her? She was dressed in a business suit and wore makeup that made her look a couple of years older. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

  "Would you like something to drink?" he asked her.

  "Some water would be nice." Her voice was calm and precise.

  He looked at me but I was still buzzing with caffeine. He drank his coffee far stronger than I was used to.

  "Please, could you bring some water for Miss Evans?" Connor instructed Alice, and she gave a brief nod before she left.

  Connor introduced me as a colleague and I briefly shook her hand before she sat beside me. I was surprised she believed him. I didn't look like I belonged, dressed in sneakers, jeans and a shirt.

  She held a folder on her lap.

  Alice returned momentarily to hand a glass of water to Riley. She took it with a smile before taking a brief sip and placing it on the table.

  I studied her, trying to decipher any similarities to her older brother. They had the same color eyes and the same mouth. But was it enough to convince me?

  Maybe a DNA test would be the only iron-clad way to confirm her true identity or at least a confirmation from her that she was the long-lost sister of Slater Graves.

  I sat quietly as Connor began, opening the folder and asking her questions. She didn't seem to be suspicious about the things he asked. Maybe it wasn't something out of the ordinary for a job interview for a model.

  As the interview progressed, I was still waiting for Connor to get at the true motive for the meeting, but he seemed to be taking much longer than I could stand. Maybe he was trying to make her feel more comfortable first before he broached the subject.

  The longer the meeting dragged on, the more nervous I was getting.

  "You have quite a portfolio," Connor said, looking through some of her photos. She was a strikingly beautiful woman even though she would only, by my calculations, be eighteen.

  I knew some models started when they were very young so it could explain her confidence.

  "Thank you," she said. She frowned slightly.

  Connor didn't miss it. "Is there something wrong?" He leaned forward.

  "It's just that CEOs don't usually interview models for advertising campaigns at their homes." She was far more perceptive than he had given her credit for.

  Connor shared a look with me before he closed her folder.

  "You are correct," he said. "I don't usually interview the models myself. Although I would like to consider you for a job in our advertising campaign, I do have an ulterior motive for this meeting."

  Her frown deepened when she looked from him to me.

  "According to your personal information, you are an orphan with no siblings. Is that correct?" he asked. I watched her closely.

  "Yes. Why would I lie?" she answered. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

  "It does. I need to know if you have a brother named Slater."

  She tensed. Her body language and reaction to his name spoke volumes. Any doubts I had harbored went out the window and I believed, despite what Slater
had told me, that his sister was alive and well, sitting beside me.

  "I have no family," she stated without any emotion.

  Connor studied her. He knew as well as I did she was lying. But I couldn't think of why she would lie about something like that?

  * * *

  "Your brother believes you're dead," he said. He was probably hoping to get a reaction out of her but this time her features were set in stone. There was nothing.

  "I'm not the person you are looking for," she stated and rose. Alarmed she was going to leave, I looked at Connor, hoping he had a way to stop her.

  "And I don't appreciate being deceived." She gave Connor such a cold look, I expected him to react, but he didn't.

  "I'm sorry for the deception but it was necessary," he explained, but she picked up her portfolio and headed for the door.

  Without another word she walked out of the study, slamming the door behind her. Connor stared at the door for a few moments before turning to face me.

  "What are we going to do now?" I asked, feeling like we hadn't gained much from the short meeting.

  I had hoped there had been some reason for her not to seek out her brother, but there didn't seem to be one.

  This meeting hadn't gone the way I had hoped. How on earth could I tell Slater his sister was alive when she wouldn't acknowledge it? Telling him she wasn't dead didn't seem to be a good idea when she clearly didn't want anything to do with him.

  "I have no family." But it was a lie. She had a brother who mourned her every day. It wasn't fair and I was angry she was being so selfish.

  "We got exactly what we needed," he said.

  "I don't understand," I asked, more confused because this meeting hadn't gone the way I had expected.

  He smiled and picked up the glass.

  "We have what we need to get a DNA test done."

  My jaw dropped open slightly as I realized what he had done without anyone, including me, knowing it.

  He gave me a confident smile.

  "So that was your intention the whole time?" I asked. He nodded.

  "The fact that she hasn't been in contact with Slater told me there was a good chance she would deny it. I had to have a way to prove she is Slater's sister. DNA doesn't lie."