Assassin Deception

by C. L. Scholey

  Chloe knew what he sought, and though tired, she was also far from finished. Her eyes remained closed when she reached for him again.

  By the time he was finished, Damien had claimed every inch of her heated body, tasted everywhere. There was no doubt in Chloe’s mind, there was no one more powerful than he, and no one loved her like he did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Smiling, Chloe opened another large chest, though this one had proved difficult. At first she thought perhaps it might be locked, but with age and a hard shove the latch snapped. She had replaced her ripped shirt with an ancient one found in another trunk.

  When Damien had left her she informed him she wasn’t finished reminiscing. The warm feeling of their lovemaking had her feeling nostalgic, and she wanted to see if she could locate Samantha’s wedding dress. That she had made her eager with excitement.

  The beautiful, long flowing gown with tiny pearl buttons and a gorgeous veil had been perfectly preserved. Chloe couldn’t wait to try it on, but felt she should check with James first.

  She doubted there would be a problem; she was already in possession of the jewelry Samantha had worn at her wedding. Chloe dipped deeper into the chest and, with delight, she removed an old photo album.

  Wanting a good look at the dress, she searched for a picture of Samantha. She wasn’t disappointed. The old-fashioned dress was beyond stunning, so had been Samantha. Chloe was going to look beyond delicious.

  Chloe flipped through the pages, her smile deepening. James had looked so handsome in his tuxedo; his resemblance to Damien and Dirk at that age was uncanny. His short blond hair had been meticulous, his clear blue eyes shone like sapphires.

  If Chloe closed her eyes she could almost smell how wonderful his cologne had been. No wonder Samantha had been smitten; the two had made the perfect couple.

  After drinking in the both of them, Chloe looked at the man standing beside James. His best man caused her to tremble. His dark looks were captivating, intimidating. He had the broadest chest Chloe had ever seen. As impossible as it seemed, he almost made James look small. His dark, soulless eyes reminded her strangely of Wolf and his powerful build; his looks seemed so familiar.

  If she hadn’t known better she would have sworn the two men were somehow related. Chloe knew that was impossible. Damien had told her years ago Wolf had only met his family when he was in his early twenties. Still, she couldn’t help but gaze, fascinated, at the very handsome, though obviously hardened man.

  Thumbing through the large book, Chloe came to a picture of the wedding party that was intriguing. Chloe could remember vaguely some of the men who had worked for James; most had retired or ventured away on their own. She wondered where Samantha’s family was.

  Looking closer, studying the book, Chloe’s heart leaped. One of the women poised near Samantha was familiar. Chloe pulled the picture closer to her eyes in the dimness of the attic. She stared hard. The resemblance was amazing. If Chloe hadn’t known better she would have sworn she was looking at a picture of her granny.

  “But that’s impossible,” Chloe whispered aloud.

  Granny hadn’t known James or Samantha until they had met her mother. Chloe’s granny had come with her mother and father when they had moved into the little house owned by James. Still, Chloe knew the picture in some way.

  Once, very long ago, her granny had shown her a picture of herself as a young woman. Rising swiftly, Chloe went closer to the window. She stared intently at the woman’s face in the bright sunlight.

  The two women were one and the same, there was no doubt in her mind. The pearl earrings were a dead giveaway. Her granny had never gone anywhere without them; James had thought it fitting she be buried with them. Chloe had been told they had been given to her as a wedding gift by her late husband, a husband she had loved beyond belief.

  Chloe looked at more pictures, setting aside the wedding party shot. Soon enough she found one more picture. Her confusion intensified. Her granny stood holding a young boy of no more than three or four. Another young boy stood directly in front of her.

  To Chloe’s great surprise the handsome, huge, best man stood with his arm wrapped around her granny. His smiling face transformed his strict exterior to a likeable, approachable human being. His eyes no longer appeared soulless, but familiar. He was happy, and very proud.

  Who was the man? Who were the boys? Why was Chloe’s grandmother included in the picture? It didn’t make any sense to her. She could feel her heart pounding, racing. She clutched the pictures in her hand. Someone had some questions to answer. She had made the mistake of waiting too long the last time; this time she would demand immediate answers. With purpose, she strode quickly from the attic.

  * * * *

  Chloe made her way into James’ study. He sat conversing with Dirk. Chloe entered and then closed the door behind her. Without saying a word she approached James and put the two photos before him. James picked them up and sighed.

  “Who’s that man with my granny?” Chloe finally demanded when James remained silent.

  “Chloe, why don’t you sit, sweetheart? Dirk, will you make her a drink?” James suggested. He had assumed that particular chest had remained locked over the years. He had known Chloe and Damien ventured up there from time to time. Since their fascination with dress-up had long ceased he had thought no more of it. He had been loath to destroy the pictures for his own reasons.

  Dirk strolled to the small bar in the room, and soon enough Chloe had a gin and tonic clasped in her tense grip. James rose from his seat and poised himself before Chloe on his desk.

  “The man in the picture, my best man and my very best and dearest friend, was your grandfather,” James began, eyeing her steadily.

  “But my grandpa died soon after my mom was born. Granny raised her alone, she had no other family,” Chloe said, confused.

  “No, sweetheart, he died after you were born, with your uncle,” James replied.

  “I don’t understand,” Chloe whispered.

  “Chloe, the man in the picture was married to your grandmother. The boy she is holding, their son, was your father.”

  “No.” Chloe looked up at him, eyes wide. “Granny had my mother, only my mother. She didn’t have any boys. How could they be married if they were brother and sister?”

  “Chloe, your parents were related only through their marriage to one another. I understand this is complicated for you to hear. I loved the man in the picture like a brother, his boys were like my own, I loved them both,” James said sadly.

  “But you killed my father,” Chloe said, aghast. “You had always said you only met him when he came to live at the cottage.”

  “Chloe, if your grandfather had lived, your life would have been much the same as it was. You would have grown up here, been sent to private schools, cared for and protected from everyone. Except your father would never have harmed you or your mother. If he had, there is no doubt in my mind Drake, your grandfather, would have killed him himself.”

  “How did my grandpa die?” Chloe asked.

  “Both he and your uncle were killed by a man from another organization. I tried to find out who was responsible, but to this day I have been unable to,” James replied somewhat evasively.

  “James, why would Granny claim to be my mother’s mother? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “When your mother became pregnant, your grandfather and I moved your family into the little cottage to be close to us. There had been threats circulating someone was after your grandfather and uncle. I had promised your grandfather if anything ever happened to him I would care for his family as my own.

  “We came up with the ruse together to protect you and your mother. It was put in place a few months before we moved you. Your names were changed. You became a different family. Your father’s mother was then your mother’s mother. Last names were changed as were firsts, your parents' ages. You, Chloe, were thought to be a boy in another family.”

  “My parents only ha
d boys' names picked out,” Chloe whispered. “You told me that.”

  “Your father made a point of throwing out a boy's name in the old area, claiming you had already been born, even handing out cigars. Before your parents moved here they were ‘killed’ in an explosion. Elaborately set up by myself and Drake. It was foolproof. Your parents then settled under their new assumed names. After you were born, your grandfather and uncle went to take care of the threat, thinking they would be victorious. They were not.”

  Chloe gave her head a shake. “But Granny was always protecting my mother from Daddy.”

  “Your grandmother did her best to protect her and you; she loved her son. He was the last one she had left. Your grandfather's and uncle's deaths devastated her. She knew what was at stake if you were to be found out.

  “Your father was growing increasingly careless. He slipped up one night and mentioned offhand something to the effect of his profession in a bar he shouldn’t have been in. A known hot spot. It became apparent he was looking for his father's and brother's killers and he didn’t care who he endangered to do it. Your grandmother loved you, Chloe…even more than her own son. She always felt a special connection with you,” James said.

  “You killed her only living boy,” Chloe said, her look was astounded.

  “Yes,” James concurred. “Now you know why I didn’t kill him sooner. I loved his father, admired and ached for his mother.”

  “She must have been so angry.”

  “Chloe, the ruse was and still is for your own protection. Until Dirk finds out who is after you and myself, you must stay close, and listen to Dirk.”

  “Chloe, I understand this is a shock,” Dirk began. “But everyone loves you. You are still the same person you were before.”

  Chloe’s face had been falling with each sentence. “I don’t know who the hell I am!” Chloe raged. “So many lies, so many deceits. What else aren’t you telling me?”

  James cringed at Chloe’s hateful, hurtful look. “Chloe, it doesn’t matter about the past. You are beginning a new future with Damien, isn’t that enough? Your grandfather would have been so pleased. He also loved my sons as his own.”

  “And yet he and all of his are now dead except me, and now someone is after me! Why didn’t you tell me before, when I said I wanted the truth?” Chloe yelled.

  “Chloe, Dad explained to you,” Dirk said.

  “Do you even love me?” Chloe cried out. “You could have told me, but chose secrets over trust. From the day I was born both of you have stressed it’s important to trust you. How can I when you continue to lie to me, to not trust me!”

  “Chloe.” James tried taking her into his arms but Chloe backed off.

  “Don’t you touch me.”

  “Chloe!” Dirk snapped, looking outraged.

  “All this time I felt how lucky I was I had you, some poor little charity case you took under your wing, her poor insane mother, claiming you did it because you loved me. When all along I really was supposed to be family to you like my grandfather was, like Wolf is. Who really paid for my schooling, James? Did you, or did my grandfather have money put away for me that my father somehow couldn’t touch?” she asked.

  “Your grandfather provided for you,” James confessed. He dropped his head to hide his anguish. “I would have, I swear. I do love you, not all of it is lies, sweetheart, please believe that. You have a trust fund set up. I was going to give it to you when you married Damien.”

  * * * *

  “No doubt under the illusion it came from you! Once again James would be my white knight, ever the generous doting guardian. You never would have told me, would you?” Chloe snapped.

  She felt sick, dirty for some reason. She loathed herself for all of the times she had wept her gratitude to them and the money had been hers all along. If James had released it to her mother they could have left, led a normal life. She would have been a true mother, not so terribly fearful all the time.

  Chloe wouldn’t have been left in the schools all alone for years, pretending to fit in with the ‘rich’ kids, where she had felt uncomfortable, that she never belonged, that she was living a lie. And she had in fact been involved in deceptions, lies. She could have been home with her family. Now her mother was cold in her grave, her chance to know her was gone. They stole that from her.

  “Chloe, it was for your own protection,” James implored, arms spread in supplication.

  Chloe looked at James and saw his anguish, his raw pain. She could tell he believed what he was saying to be the truth. She wanted to believe him, but so many lies, so many, how could she tell when he was telling the truth? The thought sickened her.

  “I don’t want to stay here anymore. I want my trust fund and I want to leave,” Chloe declared. Her entire body was shaking. She needed to escape, to sort out her thoughts and feelings.

  “I can’t let you go, Chloe, it’s too dangerous for you to leave the safety of these walls. I can’t protect you out there,” Dirk replied calmly, though she could see his pulse hammering within his throat.

  “Tough!” she snapped to his look of surprise. “Right now I feel here is too dangerous. I was blinded and injured under your thoughtful care!”

  “What about Damien?” James asked. “Are you just going to walk away from him? You love him, he loves you, sweetheart.”

  “Does he know what is going on?” Chloe asked tightly.

  “Damien was little more than a baby when this came about. I never thought it important to tell him,” James said.

  Chloe straitened her shoulders. “I am leaving. I don’t care how, but I need time to myself.”

  Dirk’s look was grim. “Chloe, you can’t be allowed to risk the rest of the family.”

  “Watch me!” Chloe spun on her heels and raced for her bedroom.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late evening. James had once more attempted to speak with Chloe, but she would have nothing to do with him. Her agonized sobbing from the bed in her room had felt like daggers thrust through his sorrow-filled heart.

  Damien had met him at her door, his large frame barring his father’s view of the room; he would not let him pass. Damien had tried to be understanding, yet James could see his son’s disappointment towards himself. He had once more tried to explain, but had been told firmly to leave.

  Damien stressed Chloe needed to settle, she had been through enough. His son’s sad, haggard face was enough to make James nod, turn, and shuffle his way downstairs. At least she was not suffering this anguish alone.

  James sat at his oak desk in his study. The glass of whiskey clasped in his hand before him remained largely untouched; the ice had melted. The room was dark, the blinds pulled shut. Only the light from the hallway to the living room drifted in, casting shadows.

  No one was about; he sat alone with his thoughts. Dirk had retired for the night with his wife. He had promised his father Chloe would be staying put for the time being. James had told him to go gently, Chloe was hurting inside from terrible dismay.

  Only when she calmed and they could talk openly would she begin to understand their reasoning. Once he explained it was Drake who had originally orchestrated the entire ruse, she would come around. Dirk had only nodded. James knew Dirk felt torn. For some reason Chloe’s anger was completely directed at him. She had not looked so despairingly heartbroken and disappointed at Dirk.

  James settled back into his chair with a soft sigh. He took a sip from his glass and grimaced. His thoughts reflected back to Drake. He missed his old friend. They had shared some good times together. They had started together under James’ own father. The two had been inseparable. Always together, always joking. Neither man had ever had a brother. James had been Drake’s best man. He had been present for the birth of Drake’s oldest son, guarding mother and child until they could be moved to the safety of home.

  James had been so happy when Drake had stood up for him as well. He had stood by him when Samantha had become ill the first time and they
had almost lost her when Dirk had been only a small child. James had been devastated; he didn’t know how he would have coped without Drake.

  It had been Drake who first expressed his hope Chloe and Damien would eventually wed. The two had chuckled over that when Damien had raced past in a soggy diaper, a soother dangling from his drooling mouth, banging a pan and wooden stick together, upsetting baby Chloe to tears.

  Drake had loved Chloe. He had been so proud upon returning home to hold the tiny infant for the first time within his arms. It was the first time he had ever seen his powerful friend brought to tears, claiming her to be the most beautiful baby girl he had ever seen. James missed the old days.

  “To you, my friend,” James said aloud. Raising his glass, he downed the contents in one gulp.

  James rose from his seated position with a heavy heart. He felt tired this evening, old. Nothing was more important than family. He would give Chloe tonight, but in the morning he would sequester her and himself in a room and explain everything. He was going to make her understand, trust her with all of it, no matter how painful.

  He knew in his heart Drake would have wanted her to know the entire story, wanted Chloe to be with Damien. James vowed he would not screw this up for his son.

  “James.”

  Startled, James stopped and looked up. Through the dim light he could just make out the image of a man’s large build filling the doorway to his study, blocking the small gentle glow from the living room.

  “Who’s there?” James questioned, his eyes peering, straining. Automatically his hand went for the sidearm he no longer wore. He had given it up when he had placed Dirk in charge.

  “Deegan.”

  “Deegan, what the devil are you doing wandering around?” James demanded, feeling relieved. “I thought Dirk had sent you off to Chloe’s last known location to have a good look around, seeing as though you were the one to bring up suspicions of her.”