Honesty (Mark of Nexus) (16 page)

Wallace and I dug into ERA’s files, bright and early the next morning.

The kitchen still smelled like cinnamon rolls from Grandma’s appeasement breakfast, providing a disturbing level of comfort while we sorted through information that could ultimately bring about the fall of mankind. Just another Saturday in the Blake household.

Our notes tracked the bloodline back as far as Faye’s partial roster allowed, but it wasn’t much to go on.

Generation 1 - Adelyn

Generation 2 - Edwin and Florence

From there, things got sticky. We knew Edwin’s family tree, but Flo’s still had some holes in it.

Generation 3 - Conrad

Generation 4 - Jackie and Titus

Generation 5 - Ben and Unknown

“All right, how about this?” Wallace turned his paper to face me. “We know Conrad is dead and Jackie’s in hiding with her son now. Why don’t we check up on Titus? He might be able to help us fill in these blanks, if ERA hasn’t gotten to him yet. And if they have, we’ll…have to convince him to change his mind.”

I blinked at him. Did he just suggest we do something proactive and potentially dangerous. Together? “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

“I think last Friday told us we’re past the point of safety,” he said, leveling me with Dad’s blue-eyed stare. “If I’m going to do something crazy, I figured you might as well be involved.”

“I just love it when you two work together,” Grandma chimed in, wiping the counters down. “Warms my heart.”

“And creeps me out.” I grinned, standing up. “But I’m on board. We goin’ now?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to meet Rena at ERA HQ. Faye called her up and insisted she start sessions with an in-house therapist. Said she couldn’t train her with distractions. I assume Gail is set to screw with the shrink’s brain afterward, since they’ll be discussing…things. But who knows. We’re not in a position to go against her right now. Maybe you and I can track Titus down tomorrow?”

“Uh huh.” I heard everything he’d said, but lost focus after the word therapist. I hadn’t gone to my own sessions for a couple of weeks, and I hadn’t exactly told the office I’d moved. Since my landline in Columbus was off the hook, they had no means of contac—

“How are your sessions going, Nicholas?” Grandma asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Damn it.
“Peachy.”

She paused and carefully set her rag on the edge of the sink. “When was the last time you went?”

“I…” I scrambled to think of something with a technical ounce of truth. “It was back when I lived around here. I need to find someone up in Cleveland, since I’m finally moved in.”

“Cleveland?” Wallace furrowed his brow.

“Oh, yeah. I moved. Work stuff.”

His eyes widened and narrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Wallace!” Grandma’s sharp reprimand made him take a step back.

“Sorry,” he told her, turning back to me. “But you
moved
and didn’t even tell anyone?”

“I told Grandma.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

Grandma cleared her throat. “You had a good number of other things to contend with at the time, dear. I thought it could wait.”

He stared at some vague point between us, working his jaw. Poor bastard. He didn’t deal with change any better than I did. Maybe I should just rip off the whole bandage.

“I
did
warn you that I had a surprise in store. And if it makes you feel any better, you’re moving, too.”

“What?”

“The house.” I gestured around us. “We’re moving the whole thing up north. I don’t want Grandma having to hang around down here by herself.”

Two strides brought him to my face, and he stared me down. “You made that kind of decision by yourself?”

“I made that kind of decision with
Grandma
. You know, the woman who owns the house?”

His bicep flinched, but he didn’t lay a hand on me. “Well, I would’ve liked to have been in on that discussion. How much is this move going to cost?”

“I’ve got it covered.”

“What did you do?”

I put my hands in the air, innocent as a newborn babe. “Nothing.”

“What did you have your minion do?”

“Wallace, I’m hurt.”

His voice rose. “If you get her caught up in some—”

“Boys!” Grandma edged between us. “I say one thing about you two playing nice together, and you
have
to prove me wrong.”

“Sorry,” we both muttered.

“Nicholas,” she began, directing her attention to me. “How did you acquire the loan? I told you I will not be a part of anything illegal.”

“Tits—I mean, Larry—secured the funding.”

Her lips pursed. “How?”

“He didn’t say.”

I had a feeling it came from very bad men who’d probably stolen it to begin with, but she didn’t need to know that. Tits had a vigilante streak to him, too. He was just more hacktivist than neighborhood watch.

She narrowed her eyes. “You
know
I know when you’re holding something back from me. I do not appreciate being intentionally misdirected.”

Well, shit.
“Grandma, it’s for your own good. It’s for everyone’s own good. I’m makin’ a real, honest to goodness effort here to get things on track. I haven’t even done rounds for two weeks.”

Wallace snorted.

“I don’t want it,” she gritted out under her breath. “Call it off. I’m not moving.”

“What?”

“I am not accepting a loan cloaked in this much deception. You should’ve known better. I’d never set that kind of example.”

“Oh, so it’s okay to lie about us having more family, but not about this?” My mouth got ahead of me in the moment, but I didn’t care. They all thought I was so bad, maybe it was time I lived up to it.

“You watch your tone.”

“I’ve watched my
everything
,” I shot back, heat slashing my eyes. “But nothing I say or do matters. It still blows up in my face!”

Her brows knit and she reached for me. “Honey…”

I wanted to back down, but I couldn’t. There was too much frantic energy building inside. Too many conflicting thoughts. “Forget it.”

“Cole,” Wallace tried, but I was already edging out of the room.

“I can’t do this right now.”

I had my shoes on and was out the door before they realized I was gone.

Part of me wished Gail was manipulating me from afar, forcing me to alienate everyone I cared about against my will, but that wasn’t it. My own demons had kept them at arm’s length, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

I’d tried the whole good thing—stopped assaulting dealers and would-be thieves in the off chance I’d go too far, started hanging out with a good influence and made her a sexception to the rule, even tried giving a shit what people thought of me. But what did that gain me? Nothing. Everyone assumed the worst, regardless.

So, I might as well give ‘em a little validation.

I didn’t bother stopping to get my mask and gloves from the Jeep. There was no pretense of jogging as I powered down the sidewalk, turning the neighborhood scenery to a blur of color and wind. My gaze raked every corner, every shadowed crevice, for movement.

Whoever chose to screw with me today was in for it. I didn’t care anymore. One offense and they were getting the ass-beating of a lifetime.

My phone rang, but I ignored it. I needed a guilt trip like a hole in the head, right now. Wallace could wait.

After God knows how long, I found myself in
terra incognita
. To me, anyway. I didn’t recognize the buildings. People sat on stoops and milled about on the sidewalk, too friendly for their own good. Not the best place to find a crime in progress.

Pass.

A few more streets brought me to a seedier part of town, an urban development area backed up against the city’s edge. Here, the folks weren’t as social. They watched from behind bass-shaken windows and disappeared behind curtains.

I slowed to a stop behind a brick apartment complex and covered my nose with my shirt. The air smelled like a treatment facility. Yuck.

Saturday morning wasn’t a great time for wrongdoing, but it didn’t deter me. There was always
something
going on somewhere. Just a matter of sniffing it out. Figuratively. I peeked around the corner.

About that time, something locked onto my arm like a vice and a booming voice barked in my ear, “What do we have here?”

I was spun to find a massive, barrel-chested man with tats on his face.
Tats. On his face.
Looked like prison ink. “Caaaan I help you?”

“Why don’t you start by tellin’ me why you’re sneakin’ around my place? Did Victor send you?”

Ah, hell. This was why I never stopped during rounds. Confrontations tend to get complicated when you stop long enough for them to see you—or grab you from behind.

“Who’s Victor?” I tried to shrug him off, but he had a monster grip. “I’m not sneakin’ around anything. I’m layin’ low. Local PD’s been up my ass all night.”

I thought a relatable excuse would grant me a pass, but he gritted his teeth and jerked me closer. “You brought that shit to my backyard?”

“Relax,” I told him. “I think I lost them.”

“You
think
, bitch? Well, I hate to tell ya, but you chose the wrong place to camp out.”

I saw his knee coming, but there was no way to avoid it in this position—until that cocky son of a bitch shifted his grip to grab my head. The second his fingers grazed my shoulder, I ducked out of his strike range.

His knee met the air like a misplaced battering ram.

“Actually, I gotta get going,” I said, shaking the wrinkles from my t-shirt. “But I did enjoy the welcome.”

If this were a cartoon, he would’ve had steam spewing from his ears. His face turned an unsettling shade of red as he called for his boys, and I considered waiting for them. It’d be the fight I was after, and even better, it’d fall under self-defe—

Something caught the sunlight about the time I heard a
bang
.

The projectile zipped in a beeline for my chest, but I jumped out the way.
Holy shit.
They’d shot at me. They’d fucking shot at me!

Another shot followed the first, and I looked up to find an angry-looking entourage on the balcony.
Oh, hell no.
I sped up the back steps, too fast for their eyes to follow, and gave the first guy a roundhouse to the ribs.

He reeled backward, off balance, and took the second guy with him. Before the third could turn with his semi-automatic, I grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and dumped him over the edge to a twelve-foot drop.

Thud!

My phone rang again, and I cursed as I flew back down the stairs. I’d wanted to take care of the dude who’d mouthed off to me, too, but I couldn’t afford to stick around now that they had a sound to follow.

I took off around the building and tugged my phone free of my pocket, my heart still thundering with adrenaline. Didn’t even look before I shoved it against my ear. “
What
?”

“Cole?” Rachel’s timid voice crackled over the line, and I nearly slammed into a phone pole.

“Yeah?”

“I-I’m sorry to call you after what happened last night, but I…I…”

I stole a look over my shoulder and ducked behind a truck. “What’s wrong, Rach?”

Something crashed in the background, and she gasped, lowering her voice to a panicked whisper, “Can you come get me?”

Five words.

All it took was five words from Rachel, and I broke the speed limit all the way back to Wilcox. Dropped everything. The fight, the way I’d left things with my family—every other thought cluttering my mind.

I didn’t even knock when I got there. Their ancient lock was a joke, and I raked it in seconds. The second my foot crossed that threshold, I was ready for anything. “Rachel?”

She peeked around the corner upstairs, and then bolted down the steps with a bag. “We have to go.”

“Why?”

The answer came in the form of her turned chin and lowered gaze. Red, splotchy skin wrapped around her right eye and cheekbone. Her head had been slammed against something. A wall, probably.

Before I knew it, I was struggling to breathe around the anger knotting my chest. My senses sharpened, details ignited around the room. A crooked picture frame. A tossed pillow from the couch. “Where is he?”

Rachel shook her head, war waging in her eyes. “Mom told me to call you. She said I had to get out of here for a while. Until he calms down.”

“Where is he?” I repeated, careful to keep my voice steady.

“Cole, please.” Her fingertips brushed my arm before she latched on. “I just got in the way.”

Rage fueled my actions, but they weren’t hasty. I ripped my keys from my pocket and thrust them into her hands. “Go wait in the Jeep for me.”

“Cole…”

“It’s fine,” I lied. “I just want to check on your mom before we go.”

She hesitated by the door. “I should come with—”

“Rachel, it’s
fine.
I’m not going to touch him.”

There she went again, biting that lip. “Okay.”

Once the door closed, I made my way though the living room. I would’ve swept the whole house, but I could hear hushed voices arguing in the kitchen.

“Just let her go,” Wanda whispered, backed up against the stove. “She apologized last night, and again this morning. I don’t know what else you expect.”

“I expect you to back me up when I discipline her!” Gene ripped the dishcloth from her hands and threw it at the sink. “You’ve let that kid live without consequence all her life. No wonder she got knocked up in high school. Now she’s gallivanting around with thugs, inviting them into
my home
to disrespect me.”

I cleared my throat. “Actually, you invited me in last night. Unless you’re talking about some other thug.”

“
You
,” he hissed, turning around to march toward me. “Do you know what you’ve done to this family?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

He started for the phone on the other side of the table. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Good. Tell ‘em how you handled your girlfriend’s daughter. I’m sure they’d love to hear that.”

Wanda covered her mouth to hide a sob.

“That’s just the cure-all, save-all for your generation, isn’t it?” Gene faltered. “We can’t paddle anymore; we can’t discipline. No wonder you’re all so screwed up.”

“Is that what you call slamming her head against the wall? Discipline?” My anger had morphed into something eerily calculated. It was as if it’d possessed me, biding its time until the need to strike was imminent. “What about Wanda? D’you touch her?”

“Of course not.”

Because
that
would be wrong. I put my hands on my hips and blew out a breath toward the ceiling. “Tell you what, this is how it’s going to play out. Both of them are coming with me. I’m taking their things. We’ll be gone in ten minutes, and you can enjoy ruling over your little domain again.”

He took a rash step toward me. “You can’t just take them against their will.”

“Oh, it won’t be against their will.” I accepted his challenge with a step of my own. “These women deserve better than this scratch of life you’ve made them depend on, and I intend on showing them that. So, we’re leaving.”

Wanda shook with big, hiccupping sobs, but I couldn’t afford to lose my edge right now.

“C’mon,” I told her, holding my arm out. “Go pack a bag. Pack anything you can’t stand to part with.”

She lowered her hands to plead with me. “This is…this…I can’t.”

“You can,” I whispered. “Do it for Rachel.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before darting to Gene in caged panic.

“Wanda.” I gently grasped her shoulders. “Go. Okay?”

She nodded and hurried out of the room as best she could.

Gene made to tear after her, and I blocked the open doorway. “Let me make something clear for you.”

“What?” he snapped, eyes livid as he tried to get around me. “Move!”

“If you come after them,” I began, lowering my voice, “I’ll cut out your intestines, tie ‘em around your dick, and hang you from the ceiling like a fuckin’ piñata. Do I make myself clear?”

His pupils contracted as he took a begrudging step back. “You’re a sick, wretched man.”

“Yeah?” I asked. “Well, you’re a coward. So, sit your ass down before I lay hands on you.”

Rachel seemed pretty shocked when her mom followed me out to the Jeep, our arms laden with trash bags full of clothes. But I saw the flicker of relief in her eyes. She knew they were safe now, free of that mind control he’d been using to imprison them there. As long as I was around, no one was going to touch them.

And it felt good.

We rode back to my place, and I set them up in what Tits called Command Central—really, it was just a futon-furnished guestroom with his server shit shoved in one corner. After I explained the situation, he said he was fine with the temporary arrangement…as long as they didn’t touch anything.

“Cole.” Rachel pulled me aside in the hallway, closing the door behind her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” I opened the door to my room, beside hers, and gestured to my computer chair. “Shoot.”

She perched on the edge of the seat and twisted her hands. “First, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to react so harshly. I just knew he’d be upset and—”

I raised my hand, cutting her off. “I created that situation. Don’t apologize for it.”

Her tilted lips contrasted the sadness in her eyes. “But you didn’t know.”

“Meh.” I plopped down on my bed and tossed the covers over an ERA file I’d left out in my search the night before. “It’s over.”

She nodded. “And for today, I…I don’t know how to thank you. You didn’t even have to come for me, let alone my mother. But you did, and you protected us, and I’ll never forget it.”

Protected them? That sounded halfway decent. Had I really done that?

“Don’t mention it,” I told her. “We’ll get this whole thing figured out.”

“Mom’s worried,” she admitted, looking down at the carpet…inches from where I’d left my boxers under the bed. “Without Gene, I don’t make enough at the 1-Stop to support us, and she can’t work…”

“What about Section 8? You guys could apply for housing.”

She stared at me, fearfully, hopefully, like I held their lifeline in my hands. “How long does that take?”

“I don’t know, but I can find out.” I shrugged. “In the meantime, you guys can crash here. We’ll shove Tits’ stuff somewhere else for a while.”

“Shove whose stuff?” Her brows drew together.

“Ti—oh, I meant Larry. The guy I called on the way here? He’s my roommate. That computer crap in the corner of your room is his.”

“And
what
did you call him?”

Ah, hell. This is gonna short-circuit her brain.
“Tits?”

A loud giggle escaped her lips before she covered it, eyes wide. “Oh my goodness. That is the worst nickname ever!”

“It’s fitting,” I assured her, with an unexpected grin. “Wait until you see him.”

“You never cease to surprise me.”

The door shut out in the kitchen, and I rose to my feet. “Speak of the devil. Wanna meet him?”

“Sure.”

She stuck close behind me, peeking around my arm. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with her inherent shyness or the fact that Gene had assaulted her hours prior, but either way, he’d pay for it. Soon.

“Yo.” Tits dropped his laptop bag on the table. “What’s shakin’?”

“Titsy, this is my friend Rachel,” I introduced him. “Rach, this is…Larry.”

“Hi, Larry.” She smiled.

“Hello,” he greeted, mouthing
hot
to me like she couldn’t see him.

Rachel took a step to the side, visibly comfortable after she’d realized Tits was nothing more than a giant cherub. “Thank you for letting us stay here. I’d introduce my mother, but I convinced her to lie down. It’s been a long morning for her.”

“No biggie.” Tits opened the refrigerator. “We’re all going to be roomies for a while. I’ll meet her later.”

“Speaking of fun roomie things,” I cut in, seizing the opportunity while the thought was still on my mind, “we won’t be needing those
hundred and fifty
chocolate bars.”

He jerked his head out from behind the fridge door. “What?”

“My grandma didn’t want ‘em. Said she doesn’t eat things when she doesn’t know where they’ve come from. So, can you return ‘em? Chalk it up as a vending error?”

His shoulders slumped forward. “Yeah, probably, but I gotta be careful. You sure about this?”

“She was very clear.” I crossed my arms, still irritated about the whole situation. “Sorry about this, man.”

Rachel had a puzzled expression on her face, but didn’t say anything.

Tits straightened, palms up. “It’s fine. Mysteriously appearing candy bars are an acquired taste.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I grunted. Grandma wouldn’t touch any loan she didn’t know the origins of, and I couldn’t afford to do it myself. Unless I won the lottery or got an inheritance from some long-lost relati—

My eyes widened, and I nearly had to grab the table for support. That was it. I knew how to get the money to move her house. “Titsy, can you play host for about an hour?”

“‘Course, man. What’s up?”

“I need to run downtown for a quick errand.”

“Ah.”

I turned to Rachel. “Will you be okay here?”

She looked around the room and gave a slow nod. “Sure.”

“Hey, Rachel,” Tits beckoned, setting lunchmeat on the counter. “Do you eat sandwiches?”

“I
love
sandwiches.”

I clapped my hands together. “Perfect. BFFs. Bond over your mutual love of sandwiches, and I’ll be right back.”

That’d tide them over until I got back from ERA HQ. Hopefully.