Resurrection

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Resurrection Page 24

by Wendy Million


  “I need you to go search the bodies again for Tom or Jay. Check everyone. Even the bodies of the people you don’t recognize. I want to know if anyone has orders on them,—hints, clues, tips, anything. We need a lead.”

  “Got it.” The kid hesitates for a minute. “Police?”

  “No.”

  He nods and sets off toward the side of the house. I stare at Eric and then I crouch, shaking his shoulder, digging my thumb into a nasty wound.

  He groans and turns glassy eyes in my direction. “Carys,” he murmurs.

  Anger spikes at him daring to say her name. This whole situation is his damn fault. “Who did this?” His head lolls to the side, and I slap his cheek to get him to focus on me again.

  “Tell,” he breathes out. “Carys.”

  “Who did this?” I grip his chin, forcing him to look at me.

  His breathing is labored, and each breath appears almost painful. If he was anyone else, I might feel a tad sorry for the fucker. “Where is Carys? Do you know where she is?”

  “Tell.” He coughs and sputters. “Carys.”

  “Boss,” the kid calls, from far away. “I think I got something, maybe.”

  “Meet me at the door.” I gaze at Eric and grip his chin tighter, and I mutter, “I gotta put a dog down first.” I cross to another man and snatch up his abandoned gun. After checking to make sure it’ll still fire, I stand over Eric. I point my weapon. “In some ways this is too good for you.”

  “Carys,” he mutters. “Tell her—”

  Before he can finish, I fire two bullets into his chest and one to his forehead. Using the bottom of my shirt, I wipe my prints off the gun and let it fall to the ground beside him.

  With a last appraisal of his still, mutilated body, I say, “I won’t be telling her anything.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Carys

  The room is pitch black and soundproof. Whoever is out there must have cut the power to the house and disabled the backup generator. None of us know the target of this massacre. It could be me, Eric, my father, even Finn.

  Finn as the mark makes my stomach flip. Where’d he go and what’s he doing? Jay claims he doesn’t have any details either. His phone died about an hour ago, but we weren’t able to get a signal anyway. The panic room is built under the basement.

  With my gaze pinned to the ceiling, I hope no one with a gun discovers the trap door and concealed staircase in Lucas’s room. It’s a steep, winding decent meant only for one person at a time. Jay was almost too broad to make it. Even now, having navigated it, I can’t believe the passage exists. Who is up there? What do they want?

  How will we know when they’re gone?

  Lucas makes a snuffling noise and snuggles into my chest, trying to find food. Soon we’ll have to take a chance and leave. We can’t let him starve, and I’m not sure when he last fed. So far he’s been content to be cradled and rocked. Not for much longer.

  “Do you think it’s safe yet?” My father’s voice echoes in the darkness.

  “No.” Jay’s tone is bored. “We’re waiting it out.”

  “For what?” My anxiety over Lucas eases as his breathing evens out again.

  “Finn.”

  My father chuckles. “He left. We’ll die of thirst or starvation.”

  “He’ll be back. I’m locked in this panic room with the one person he actually gives a shit about. Come hell or high water, he’ll find her.”

  “Do you think Eric’s okay?” My father’s voice is subdued, resigned.

  “No.” Exasperation enters Jay’s voice. “He was the guy fucking screaming, Charles. Whoever came to the house, they came for him.”

  Demid.

  I don’t say his name out loud. Jay likely knows, and my father would never understand Demid was avenging his daughter’s death.

  “He only wanted to make you happy, Carys,” my dad says.

  I laugh. “He wanted to make himself happy.”

  Part of me wishes I could see my father’s face, gauge his reaction. The other part is glad we’re doing this in the dark. Maybe he’ll be honest for once. “Lucas wasn’t created to make me happy. This baby was a method of control, to get me under his thumb. Before the baby, I had the upper hand. I was his boss, and I had more money, prestige, connections.” I bring Lucas to my chest, my voice hard in the darkness. “He might have given me a baby, but he wanted to take a lot more.”

  There’s a heavy silence before my father speaks. “I wanted you to be happy. This was supposed to make you happy.”

  “Eric would never have made me happy.”

  “The plan wasn’t about him—not for me. You wanted a baby so badly. Ever since you were little and you played with dolls, you wanted to be a mother. Watching you come so close and having the dream slip through your fingers...”

  “You had no right.” I wish I could see his face, his eyes, to determine whether he’s sincere or trying to make the best of a shitty situation. We’re his greatest chance out of this mess. At this point, Finn will be his savior too. Must sting after how he’s treated him.

  “We haven’t had an easy relationship, Carys. But I’ve always loved you more than I could express. Seeing you grieve over and over hurt me, too.”

  “You had no right.” This time, my words don’t have the same bite. “If we get out of this alive, I’m taking time with Finn and Lucas to sort through this mess. Then I’m quitting you and the company. I’m done. I’m out.”

  My father sighs. Jay’s big hand lands on my shoulder, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze.

  “You’ll turn over the family company to someone else?” my father says.

  “No,” I say. “I’m giving it to you. What you do with it, that’ll be up to you. But I want nothing to do with it...or with you.”

  “I haven’t been a part of the company for years,” Charles says. “I won’t understand everything to step right back in.”

  “I’ll come to the Chicago office for one week. One week. That’s it. But not until we’ve got Lucas out of Russia and we’re settled. You can hobble along until then. There are enough people there who know what they’re doing. You’ll be fine.”

  “All these years leading the company, all these years as your father, and I get one week?”

  “You’ve been on borrowed time since you told Finn to stay away at the hospital seventeen years ago.” Lucas squirms in my arms. “I understand why you did it. I do. But it doesn’t change the fact you’ve been trying to make big life decisions for me for far too long.”

  “Ever since your brother died, I’ve tried to keep you alive. Anything to keep you alive.” His voice is rough with emotion.

  “We’re in a panic room in Russia. I’d say your ability to decide who or what is dangerous stopped working.” Truthfully, I’m not sure he ever had that capability. Of course, I don’t believe he wanted to put me in danger, but he hasn’t steered me down the straight and narrow either. “Finn loves me. And—and I have no doubt he’d do anything, anything in the world to keep me safe. I know it.”

  The latch above our heads creaks, and Jay tenses beside me.

  “My kingdom for a light,” he whispers.

  His gun must be trained at the source of the noise, but it’s so dark we can’t see anything. A light shines, blinding us. Lucas stirs in my arms.

  “Identify yourself!” Jay booms.

  If whoever has found us wanted to shoot, we’d be dead. There’s no cover in here, just a room, a ladder, and a few rickety chairs.

  “Carys?”

  Relief floods through me. “Finn,” I breathe out his name, and I rise from my chair, wishing he’d shift the light so I could see his face.

  The light doesn’t ease, but there’s the distinctive clatter of him descending the ladder, and I catch glimpses of his outline. Adjusting Lucas, I try to shield my eyes.

  “Kid, get the fucking light out of her eyes. I don’t want her blind, and I can see her.” There’s a slight pause, and Finn draws in another br
eath that sounds shaky. “I can see her.”

  My heart swells.

  With that, the light moves to the side, and when the spots clear from my eyes, the relief on Finn’s face before he scoops me and Lucas into his arms makes my chest tighten.

  “You have no idea the things I’d have done if anything had happened to you.” His voice is gruff in my ear. “For nothing can be ill if she is well.”

  My breath catches. A line from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

  Once, when we were in Ireland, he said that line reminded him of me. Sometimes his almost-degree in literature reaped surprising benefits. I haven’t heard those words in years, but those moments with him are my most vivid memories. Us at our happiest. Looking back, I don’t understand how I didn’t recognize his love. Blinded by youth and inexperience, I guess. His feelings are so clear now. Uncomplicated and perfect. My heart lodges in my throat.

  He frames my face with his hands before his lips find mine and everything else fades away, becomes muted.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whisper when I pull back, my free hand cradling the side of his face. “How did you find us?”

  “Tom had an old architectural drawing of the house in his front pocket. The kid,” Finn indicates the person at the top of the ladder, “dropped out of architectural school to take this job. He saw what I would have never seen.” A ghost of a smile flicks across his face. “Redeemed himself for being a piss-poor bodyguard.”

  He tugs me close, careful not to crush Lucas between us. His lips brush against my forehead, and I savor the smell of him, the warmth of him. Everything will be okay.

  “Anyone alive up there?” Jay’s voice breaks the silence.

  “Me and the kid,” Finn says.

  “Eric?” my father asks.

  “Dead.”

  My father’s sharp intake barely registers. I can’t stop staring at Finn. “Where were you?”

  “We’ll talk in the car on the way out of here. If the cops come along, I’d rather not be paying people off right and left. We’ll go to the hotel Jay booked for us. Cover our tracks later with cash if we have to.”

  Lucas makes suckling noises. He needs to feed soon, which reminds me of another person who should have been on my mind. “Galina?”

  Finn’s lips graze my temple, and he mutters, “You’re the only three alive.” Surveying the light coming from the top of the stairs, Finn checks on the bundle in my arms. “Can you carry Lucas back up there?”

  “I’ll take him,” Jay offers. “I carried my own kids all over the damn place when they were babies.”

  Arguing with him seems pointless, so I pass Lucas to him and he takes him with ease. “Sofia’s lucky.” I smile.

  He chuckles. “She is. But so am I. That’s why our marriage works.”

  We navigate the path back up to the surface in a single-file line. The house is dark, and the only lights we have are from Finn’s phone and the kid’s light in the lead. When we get to the front door, Jay grabs the diaper bag on our way out.

  We trudge to the car, mostly in silence. The kid with Finn has my purse swinging from one of his hands, and our two overnight bags in the other.

  “My phone,” I whisper, realizing that leaving it behind tells anyone who comes that we were at the house.

  Finn takes it out of his back pocket and waggles it. I lean into him and his arm circles me, securing me tight to his side. Once we’re at the car, he opens the door and gestures for me to get in.

  “We don’t have a car seat.” I stare at Finn and then at Jay with a hint of panic building in my chest. At every parenting hurdle, I’m stumbling.

  “It’s all right,” Jay says. “The hotel isn’t far. He’ll be okay. It’s the least of our worries right now.”

  When my father tries to slide in behind me, Finn puts his hand on my father’s chest. “Nah,” Finn says. “You can walk.”

  “You’ll need my help to get Lucas out of the country.”

  Finn shakes his head. “What do you think I’ve been doing today?” His gaze sears my father. “I got a lawyer—a good fucking lawyer. And I greased some wheels. We fly out with Lucas and a Russian passport tomorrow.”

  My father frowns and crosses his arms. “You were going to run away with him?”

  Finn chuckles. “I don’t run. From anything. I would have taken Carys and Lucas and waltzed out the front door in the morning. There would have been nothing Eric could have done.”

  My father’s gaze narrows in response, but he says nothing. I’m not sure it would have been as easy as Finn’s making it seem, but we’ll never know. We no longer have to worry about Eric. It surprises me I don’t experience even an ounce of sadness over his death. At one time, I would have grieved his loss. Never in the same way, with the same intensity I did over Finn. But still, his absence would have left a mark. Now? I’m relieved the emotional manipulation is over. We’re free.

  With that, Finn climbs into the car behind me. Jay shuts the door and gets in beside the kid up front.

  “He’s walking? We’re leaving him?” The kid’s voice shakes.

  “Yes.” I gaze out the window, away from my father’s dejected silhouette. “I should have done it a long time ago.”

  Silence fills the car as we drive. Every once in a while, Lucas stirs, and I remember we don’t have a car seat. The situation is so precarious.

  “Was it Demid?” I ask.

  Finn grimaces and shrugs. “Seems like. It might be my fault he found you. I called Hagen to get leads on politicians and lawyers to approach with favors or bribes.”

  “Hagen sold you out?” I frown.

  “If the price was right, he’d murder his own father.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Finn but say nothing. He allowed his father to be murdered for free. Not exactly a damning comment, given the source.

  The baby wails, and Jay opens the diaper bag and starts doing something up front. A few minutes later, he passes back a bottle.

  “What’s this?” I turn the bottle to catch the passing lights out the window.

  “Formula. Galina was using it to top him up at night.”

  “Oh.” I stare at the bottle. “I think maybe you should be this baby’s mother.”

  Jay laughs. “You’ll be fine.”

  “We just left a shootout. We have no car seat. I would have forgotten to grab the diaper bag if you hadn’t thought of it. I didn’t realize Galina was using any formula.” Tears spring to my eyes. “I don’t know how to feed my baby.”

  He turns in his seat so we make eye contact in the dim light. Finn rubs my leg in soothing motions but doesn’t speak. He probably understands less than me.

  “Everyone figures out how to parent, how to care for their kid as they go.” His expression is serious. Parenting is like this giant experiment that can screw up a kid for life.” Jay shrugs. “You do the best you can and hope it’s enough.”

  “Not very comforting,” I say.

  “The truth is rarely comforting. You got Finn, you got me, and when you decide where you’re settling, I’m sure my wife will give you a hand, too.”

  “You’ll come with us?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” He nods. “I talked to Sofia about relocating last night, before hell broke loose. She’s on board for a move. The kids are still young enough they’ll adjust okay.”

  “Approaching the hotel,” the kid up front says.

  “I want to go home as soon as possible.” Looking over at Finn, I smile. “Jay?”

  “On it.” He whips out his phone. “I’ll get the pilot and jet on standby for as soon as we get the passport. I’ll call Lena and get her to pick up the baby essentials for the chalet.”

  “And book yourself a flight home,” I say.

  Finn protests, and I clamp my free hand over his mouth.

  “Jay needs to be with his family. And we need to work on becoming a family, just the three of us.”

  Finn removes my hand and gives me the smallest smile. “Jay, hire us s
ecurity for the chalet. Book yourself a ticket home to your wife.”

  I lean over and press my lips to his. “Thank you.”

  “Not sure how I feel about this whole compromise thing.”

  A laugh escapes me and then I sweep my gaze over his face. My chest floods with love and hope and so much joy I’m worried I might burst open. “I can’t believe I’m getting everything I ever wanted.” I stare at the entrance to the hotel for a moment. “It’s almost too good to be true.”

  “You’re getting what you deserve,” Finn says beside me. “What you’ve always deserved.”

  I link the fingers of my free hand with his as we climb out of the car, a giddy grin on my face.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Finn

  Despite the twenty-four-hour security I’ve insisted on having here in Switzerland the last few weeks, I can’t escape this nagging sensation in my stomach, louder than a whisper, not quite a roar. That sixth sense has never steered me wrong when I’ve listened to it, and it’s going off like crazy.

  The stupid part about this unease is that it’s being overridden on a daily basis by an overwhelming satisfaction. Carys has agreed to give her father one week in Chicago to get the business in order for the transition, and then she’s out—gone for good.

  Things have been ticking along in Switzerland for the last few weeks between me, Carys, Lena, and Lucas. We’ve already paid for the renos to the property in Cape Verde, and Jay and his family are flying there this week to oversee the build. We greased some wheels and got approval to construct a hotel and casino on her waterfront property. It’ll be fucking glorious.

  Sometimes I wonder if that’s my problem. There isn’t something coming, not really. I’m uncomfortable with things falling into place so easily. My life has never been relaxing. Even as a child, my existence was fraught with danger. Death or jail was an almost certainty.

  Now? I have Carys, a kid, and a legitimate business on the way. All my Christmases have come due at once.

  “Finn?” Carys’s voice drifts to me from upstairs, bringing me out of my thoughts.

 

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