“I think of you as a sister, too,” I say softly.
She hugs me. I hug her back.
***
Robin comes home soon after. He makes time to say hello. But, I can tell he’s feeling rushed. Dinner is just me, Fey, Robin’s parents, and Jace. Robin stay in his room, working. When I wonder out loud why no one’s brought a plate to him, I nearly get laughed out of the room.
“When that kids locks himself in there,” Jace says, “There’s no getting him out, come hell or high water. He’s been that way ever since high school. We know better than to try talking to him when he’s in one of his ‘zones’.” He makes big, exaggerated air quote around the word.
Fey touches my arm, “I used to worry, too. But, I’ve learned to live with it. He eats on a totally irregular schedule. Dinner doesn’t mean much to him. Neither does lunch, or breakfast. Hell! Some days I don’t even know if he remembers to eat.”
“Once,” Jace continues. “Right around the time university admissions were due, he locked himself in there for three whole days without coming out.”
“Fey’s right,” Robin’s mom says. “We don’t think he had a bite of anything the entire time. He gets so focused on what he’s doing. He seemed just as surprised as we were when we asked him about it after he emerged. He said he just forgot.”
“See what I have to deal with in my future husband?” Fey smiles.
The remainder of the night proceeds in a light-hearted manner.
When it’s finally time to retire, I’m caught by surprise when Fey follows me to my room instead of to Robin’s.
“You don’t mind if I sleep in here tonight, do you?” she asks. She looks at me with big, doe-like eyes. “It’ll be like a slumber party. Almost like we’re back in college.”
“Sure,” I say, after only a moment’s hesitation. Jeremy asked me to call him tonight. I don’t want to do it with Fey around.
I guess the saving grace is that he did not order me to. I figure it won’t be the end of the world if I don’t.
When the lights are out, and we’re both tucked under the sheets, I hear Fey’s soft voice.
“Lilly?” she says. “Are you still awake?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Barely. What’s up?”
“I just want to say… how happy I am for you. And how proud I am of what you’ve done. I’m sorry for doubting you. It really seems like you’ve got your entire life figured out. It’s pretty amazing, actually. But if anybody could do it, it’d be you.”
I feel an uncomfortable twinge of guilt. If she only knew.
“I think I might even envy you,” she whispers. “You’ve got it made. A perfect job. A stunning man. Access to unlimited wealth. I just hope that it brings you happiness. You deserve it.”
“My life’s not perfect,” I mutter. “There’s something you don’t know.”
She sits up. “What is it?”
Trying to decide whether to tell her this or not is something I’ve struggled with ever since Jeremy told me I could come and visit her. It’s a decision I’ve been unable to make.
But now… now, I think we’ve reconnected enough that I can trust her. And if there is one thing I can share with her that is the absolute truth, without worrying about the consequences, it’s this.
“I met my father.”
“What?” I hear her scramble in the dark as she reaches over to turn on a lamp. “When? How? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“A few weeks ago,” I say. “Jeremy found him for me.”
“Wow!” Fey exclaims. “So? Who is he? What was it like? Why did he abandon you when you were a child?”
“The funny thing is,” I say, “he wasn’t a stranger.”
“Huh?” Fey asks. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I met him before. I just didn’t know he was my father. I thought he was just one of my mom’s many boyfriends. When I was around twelve or so…”
And so I launch into the whole story of who Paul is, how he rescued me from the hole in the ground, why he left, and everything else.
Fey listens with rapt attention. As I continue talking, I find that it feels good—so good—to be able to unload some of my issues onto someone else.
The matter with Paul is something that’s been gnawing at me ever since Jeremy introduced me to him. Until now, I‘ve just chosen to ignore it. I haven’t had time to give him proper thought.
But, he is my father. And I do want to figure out how he fits into things.
I tell Fey everything about my meeting with him in the mental ward. Of course, I leave out the part about the collar. And the way he called Jeremy “Doctor.” But, everything else I recount with absolute honesty.
“Wow!” Fey breathes when I’m done. “Just… wow. So he’s like, mentally unstable?”
“From what I saw, yeah.”
“And you’re sure he’s actually your father? It’s not some story he made up?”
“No. Why would he do that?” I say. “When he called me his daughter, Fey, he was telling the truth. I know. Just from the way he looked at me. I know.”
“I don’t know,” she says, hesitating. “It just seems so farfetched…”
“You don’t think he told the truth?”
“Well, you said it yourself. He’s insane. Look at where Jeremy found him. Have you talked to your mother about this?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s been years since we spoke. I’m not about to seek her out, even for this.”
“Maybe you should,” Fey says thoughtfully. “You never told me the full story of what happened between you and her.”
I exhale. “It was bad, Fey. I don’t like to think about it. She was the one who ruined things between us, not me.”
“Yes, but now you’re older… smarter… more mature. Maybe it’s a good time to approach her. Patch things up?”
“Trust me,” I say. “They’re unpatchable. Besides, I live in California now. She’s god-knows-where on the East Coast. I haggled hard enough to get these two days off to come and see you. I don’t think my boss would look kindly on me asking for more time off.”
“Nobody says you have to do it in person. A phone call could be enough.”
“You think I have her number?” I give a laugh. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to do it that way. When—if—I ever choose to reconnect with her again, it’ll be face-to-face. It has to be, after the way we left things.”
“I’m just thinking out loud here…” Fey says slowly, “…but if we’re to assume that Paul is actually your father, wouldn’t a lot of your mom’s behavior in the aftermath of their last break up make sense?”
Yes, I think to myself. Yes, and that is why I’m so afraid to see her.
“No.” I shake my head stubbornly. “What she did was unforgivable. The things she said, the names she called me… You weren’t there, Fey. You don’t know what it was like.” I motion around the room. “You see Robin’s family. They’re all happy and get along. You grew up with two loving parents. I’ve never heard you say one bad word about them.”
“I guess that’s true,” she admits.
“I don’t want to say this to make it sound dramatic, but in a way, you’ve been sheltered your whole life. You’ve never had bad family drama.” I sigh. “It wasn’t like that for me. For half of high school, I dreaded coming home and finding one of my mom’s new low-life boyfriends shooting heroine on the bed. That was the better half. You don’t even want to know what the worse half looked like.”
Fey touches my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“So, I’m not going back to her,” I say. “If Paul is my father--and I believe he is--it still doesn’t change things. Not much. It’s not like I have this overwhelming urge to reconnect with him and make up for lost time.” I force a laugh. “Even if I did, I couldn’t just go and see him on a whim, you know. There are procedures in place. The institution is run almost like a prison.”
“Don’t you want to help him?” Fey asks. “You’ve always been
so altruistic. Don’t you want to see if, maybe, reuniting with you could help his mental state? You said he was lucid when he called you his daughter. But now—and don’t take this the wrong way—you seem kind of blasé about the whole thing.”
I think of the collar around my father’s neck… and of the man responsible for it. Yes, I want to help Paul. I want to help him more than Fey can ever know.
I shrug. “It’s not like I have the luxury to do anything. He’s locked up tight in there.”
“How does a place like that work, anyway?” Fey wonders. “It sounds like a private facility. It’s not a state-run prison. But the way you described things, it doesn’t seem to me like the occupants can just leave at any time.”
“They can’t.” I remember the locks on the windows, the tall fence around the outside. “I don’t know how it works either, Fey.”
“You haven’t looked it up? Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“It’s just been low on my priority list,” I say. “I can actually sympathize with Robin. The way you say he’s working? That’s been pretty much every single day for me at the firm.”
“Except, of course, in the evenings, when you’re with Jeremy.” Fey giggles.
“Yes,” I say, feeling a tinge of sadness at how much I still have to keep hidden from her. “Except then.”
Chapter Sixteen
I say good-bye to Fey the following morning, and even catch a peek at the elusive Robin. He looks exhausted, absolutely haggard. Fey tries to fuss around him to show her concern. He just brushes her off.
I bet he didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.
Fey directs an evil glare at my driver when he arrives. But, otherwise she keeps her mouth shut. We hug each other and she makes me promise to call her within the next week. I tell her I will.
And then I find myself back in the limo, heading toward the private airfield where Jeremy’s jet is already waiting for me. I’m going right back into the lair of the beast.
It’s funny. When I think back on this trip to see Fey, I don’t feel any overwhelming emotions. I view the entire expedition with a detached sort of distance.
We didn’t really reconnect. Not until late last night, anyway, and not in the way I hoped we might. Part of it probably has to do with how much I’ve had to keep hidden. But, a part of it might just be our growing apart. Our lives are different now. She’s still in college. I don’t think I’m ever going back. We’re not kids. After all the things I’ve experienced with Jeremy, I feel so much older than I really am.
Somehow, sitting in the back of the limo gives me more comfort than reuniting with Fey. It’s not just the familiarity that comes from returning to his world. It’s a sort of peaceful tranquility that arises from knowing that I am firm in my position, and that, that position puts me in a place to accomplish my goals.
***
After the flight back, I pull up in front of the doors to the mansion. I climb the steps and open the unlocked door. As expected, an empty house greets me.
I try my luck, anyway. “Rose?” I call out. “Are you around?”
There is no answer.
I shrug, and head upstairs to the bedroom. I glance at a clock along the way. It’s nearly eight. On a Friday night, Jeremy should probably be home soon.
When I enter the bedroom, my eyes are instantly drawn to a white binder lying on the bed. Against the stark black sheets, it stands out like the reflection of a full moon on the surface of a tranquil lake. There’s a small envelope clipped to the top.
I walk over and pick it up. The words, “To Lilly” are written on the top.
I brush my hands over the binder. It’s not one of those cheap plastic ones, but rather something substantial and heavy. It feels cool to the touch. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s coated with white gold.
I shake my head. A luxurious binder. I never thought I’d see the day.
I open the envelope first. Jeremy’s familiar fine, tight handwriting is scrawled along the sheet:
Two things to show my true intentions:
The first, in the binder, is a new offer of employment. I had it drafted while you were away. The terms are negotiable. There is no pressure to sign. But, I would be very pleased if you did.
The second is more along the lines of a gift. Go into the surveillance room. You will find the computer turned on. On the underside of the keyboard is a piece of paper with a 16-digit PIN.
I am the only one in this world who knows that PIN. Until now.
The digits will give you access to the entire surveillance system in the house. There are archives, too. Video footage of everything that has ever happened in my home.
I made you watch the videos once. That is something I sincerely regret.
You can do anything you want with the recordings. I will not be coming home tonight so that you feel no pressure from me. You have access to the entire archive. Keep it or delete it. It’s up to you.
I thought that the elimination of such evidence should rest firmly in your hands.
Jeremy Stonehart
I take a deep breath and put the note down. Jeremy really is showing me his intentions. And they really are—or they seem to be—different from what they were when our paths first crossed.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and eye the hidden entrance to the surveillance room. I have bad memories of that place. But maybe, now, I can approach it differently. I can go in there as someone in full control.
And control has always been my ultimate desire.
But first, there’s the employment offer. I have no idea what it might be. Could it be the Dextran gig? That just seems way too soon…
My phone rings, making me jump. I’ve grown so accustomed to being away from technology that it takes my brain an extra second to process what the noise is.
I fish the phone out of my purse and look at the screen. Jeremy’s number. I press ‘answer’ and bring it to my ear.
A cool, deep voice greets me. “Have you signed yet?”
By instinct, my stomach clenches. This comes too close to the words that accompanied the first contract.
“I—“
He starts to laugh.
“I’m joking, Lilly. I know that you haven’t looked at the offer yet.”
“How do you know…” I trail off, and glance at the ceiling. The cameras. Duh.
“Where are you?” I ask. I can hear sounds of conversations in the background.
“Entertaining,” he says. “We have quite a gathering here at my penthouse in San Jose.”
A burst of female laughter comes from the distance. A pang of jealousy hits me. “Why didn’t you invite me?”
“I expected you would be tired from your trip. More importantly, I wanted to give you space to think over the terms I outlined in the new offer. I did not want my presence to pressure you into doing anything.”
“Yet you’re still watching me through the cameras,” I say.
Amusement fills his voice. “Yes. For the moment. It might be my last such opportunity .”
“What do you mean?”
“You read my note?” Jeremy asks. “The second part is of some importance.”
“You want me to delete the footage,” I say. And therefore eliminate the last strand of evidence.
“No,” he says. “I want to give you the freedom to do so. You are in full control of your actions, Lilly. The days of dictating what you do are over.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. As proof, here is what I offer. The moment you input the sixteen-digit PIN, you will be prompted to create a new one. One that only you will know. You will have full control of the house. You can choose which cameras to keep on. You can choose which ones to turn off. Hell! You can turn all of them off. I am locking myself out of my own home, Lilly. Anything that I want, from now on, will be up to you.”
I sit back, astonished. “I didn’t realize that’s what it meant,” I say softly.
“If that’s not enough proof
of the trust I place in you,” he says, “the new employment offer will be.”
I lift up one edge of the binder and leaf through the pages. It’s all small, legal print. “What is it?” I ask.
He chuckles. “You’ll see.” Then, on a dime, his voice takes on a new inflection. One that is much deeper, and full of heat.
“All these women around,” he tells me, “and all I can think of is you. I wish you were here tonight, Lilly. I would fuck you right now. In the bathroom, in the closet, on the upstairs patio. We would christen this apartment, you and I. I’d make you scream so loud all the other guests would hear.”
My heartbeat ratchets up at his words. I cross my legs and clear my throat, trying to dispel the sudden arousal.
“Alas,” he amends, “You are occupied with more important matters. Another reason I am not home. I’ve missed you. If I were there, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you tonight.”
“So, you hosted a party as a favor to me?” I try to sound skeptical. “How thoughtful.”
“If you knew my mental state, you wouldn’t jest,” he says. “I’ve half a mind to ditch my role as host and speed home to fuck you raw. So don’t tempt me.”
Somebody calls his name in the background.
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bye,” I say. I’m not entirely—or really, at all—opposed to his last suggestion.
“Oh, and Lilly?” he adds, just before hanging up. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Chapter Seventeen
The offer of employment turns out to be everything I ever dreamed of, when I was back at Yale.
It’s a position as the marketing lead in charge of public relations for Stonehart Industries in anticipation of the upcoming IPO. Of course, they already have a team in place. This would be supplementary, created on a special, ad-hoc basis. My team would work in tandem with them
Uncovering You 6: Deliverance Page 15
