Notes from the authoress:
Thank you, Ellasphere, for taking the time to go over this thing and point out all the little mistakes I stopped seeing on, maybe, Revision #3. LOL! Seriously, you rock!
Thank you to all of you kind people who are still reading this story and haven't given up on me, despite my woeful delay in updating. You guys rock, too!
I can't promise when the next update will occur. Chapter 10 is in its infancy and I don't have much time at home these days (new boyfriend and oodles of overtime at my job). I haven't spent a full day at home in several weeks. Rest assured that I won't forget about this story or just leave it hanging. I wouldn't have posted it here, if I hadn't intended to finish it. What would be the point of that?
Disclaimer:
Disney owns their characters and I own mine and all is harmonious with the universe.
Turn, Turn Turn belongs to The Byrds (and, if I'm not mistaken, was inspired by The Bible). I won't presume to take credit for either.
Now for the moment y'all have been waiting for. Let the story commence! Hopefully, none of you will kill me for the direction this fic has taken.
Chapter Nine
"When the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light we'll see.
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid. Just as long as you stand, stand by me."
-Ben E. King
They arrived at the hotel room a short time later. As soon as they unloaded the car, Riley grabbed his duffel bag and made a beeline for the bathroom.
"Riley-," Ben began, but he was cut off by the bathroom door being slammed in his face. Riley locked the door before Ben could do something arrogant like barge in demanding answers for his silent treatment. He couldn't deal with his friend, apparent or otherwise. He was still shaken from the dream he had. His dreams always contained an element of truth and he couldn't help but fear that it had really been a prediction of things to come.
He wished he could have gotten his own room, but Ben didn't want them to be separated. So, he was sharing the room that Ben had rented shortly after he had been admitted to the hospital. It had a king-sized bed, a sofa bed, a small kitchen area, a dining area and a living room. Not bad, but not private, either.
He turned on the shower, letting the water warm up to an acceptable level as he stripped off his clothes. Not only had washing up in the hospital bathroom's sink been woefully insufficient, he had to get every trace of this day off him, especially the horrific reunion with Louis in Wal-Mart and the rejection by his only family.
If this is how you have acted every time someone ever tried to get to know you, it's no small wonder why you have spent most of your life alone.
Riley shuddered, in spite of the warm water washing over him. He couldn't help but realize the truth in the statement. He knew he had a hard time trusting people, but he reasoned that it wasn't wholly his fault. People had seen him as an easy mark for as long as he could remember. It had gotten to a point where he couldn't differentiate between the fair weather friends and the genuine article. Therefore, he kept everyone at arm's length. In doing so, did he actually end up pushing away people that really cared about him?
If anyone from your past cared, they would still be in your life. You'll see. Ben will be just like everyone else. People are all alike, despite their good intentions. As you know full well, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
Burdened by these dark thoughts, Riley showered until the hot water started to run out. Reluctantly, he shut off the faucet and stepped out of the shower stall. He toweled off and dressed quickly before the shower-generated steam could dissipate.
He stepped up to the sink and ran his hand over the mirror, clearing a swath to see his reflection clearly as he combed his hair. Man, he looked like crap! His eyes were slightly red-rimmed and he appeared pale and somewhat gaunt.
He studied his sorry reflection for a moment and a startling realization hit him. Every feature that he possessed belonged to his birth mother, except for his nose. That belonged to his father. However, there wasn't a sign that would immediately identify him with the Landley clan. His father and mother had been fair skinned and fair haired. Riley had stuck out like a sore thumb and it became apparent to him why his father had shunned him like he had. He must have been a perpetual reminder of what the old man had done.
Riley shuddered. What had his father done? The possibilities infiltrated his brain and none of them were pleasant. This had blown so far open, that Riley seriously regretted opening the door in the first place.
He sighed. As tempting as it was to stay in the bathroom and far away from Ben, Riley knew he couldn't hide in there, forever. Reluctantly, he picked up his duffel bag and unlocked the door, opening it slowly. The coolness of the main room hit him immediately and he shivered slightly. He looked around and spotted Ben in the room's kitchenette, stirring something in a pot on the stovetop. He looked like he was a million miles away, though, and the motion seemed automatic. Riley sniffed the air, smelling something acrid.
"What are you burning instead of cooking?"
Ben snapped to attention. "Shit!" He peered down in the pot, frowning. "Well, so much for the hash. I'll have to cook another can."
"Be still my beating taste buds." The sarcasm was automatic, but the sudden break in the silent treatment was by no means an indication that Riley had forgiven his friend. He padded along the carpeted floor in his stocking feet to his bed and plopped the duffel bag next to it. He frowned as he sat down on its edge.
He grabbed his laptop from the bedside table. He turned on his computer and turned on the music from his hard drive, selecting a song to drown out the tension that descended on the room. He sat cross legged on the bed, his chin on his hands and his eyes closed. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
Riley sighed, agitated and spoke through clenched teeth. "If you ask me that one more time, I'm going to dance to it."
Ben's response was a hybrid of a growl and a sigh. He was close to fed up, Riley could tell. "I was just concerned that something might be troubling you. Pardon me for forgetting that you consider any concern for your welfare to be a criminal offense. I don't know what could have come over me."
Riley looked up and blinked at Ben's uncharacteristically derisive response. Sarcastic comments were usually his territory. He took a deep breath to steady his temper and spoke as evenly as he could. "I'm fine. There is no need for you to be worried."
Ben didn't respond and Riley again turned his attention back to his laptop, drumming his fingers on the bed in time to the song.
"To everything, turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born,
A time to die.
A time to plant,
A time to reap.
A time to kill,
A time to heal.
A time to laugh,
A time to weep."
"I never would have pegged you as a Byrds fan."
Riley hissed through clenched teeth. He was sending out every leave me alone vibe he possessed and Ben refused to take a hint. He didn't answer and he heard his friend emit another sigh.
"You still look tired."
He just keeps on trying at that awkward conversation, doesn't he? "Yeah, I feel tired, too. What an amazing coincidence that is! I feel like doing a little happy dance, because that coincidence is just so astounding!" For effect, Riley clapped his hands and bopped around on the bed, still retaining his sitting position.
"Was that supposed to be funny?"
"I found it hilarious." Riley's eyes hadn't left his computer screen.
Riley heard the bed springs creak as Ben sat down on the edge of his bed. He didn't have to look at his friend to know he was watching at him. "Keep staring. I might do a trick."
Ben sighed. "I'm just trying to read between the lines."
Riley blinked as he finally looked up from the laptop. Outwardly, he kept himself composed, but, inwardly, his hackles were raised. "What, pray tell, are you talking about?"
"Riley, I know you're not fine. When are you going to drop this act? I hate to break it to you, but you are a card carrying member of the human race. It isn't shameful to let yourself feel something."
Riley laughed, the scorn dripping off the usually happy sound like water. "Wow, that's rich!" He turned back to his laptop. "Seriously, my life is my problem. You wouldn't even know where to start to help me with my crap, so don't go there. Don't treat me like I'm one of your puzzles to solve"
Ben reached over and hit the power button to Riley's laptop, shutting the device off mid-lyric. He yanked the computer out of reach before Riley had a chance to react and put it on his bed. "God damn it, Riley, I'm not trying to treat you like a puzzle! I'm trying to make you see that you don't have to shoulder everything alone, anymore. I'm sorry, but it's an unfortunate side effect of having people in your life who care about you."
"Look, I appreciate that you care and all, but I don't do the whole opening up thing. There are certain things about me that I prefer to keep mine, like my thoughts and my memories, such as they are. You haven't needed to know in the last five years. Don't act now like it's a huge deal."
Ben blinked at the implied insult and Riley swore he saw guilt flash through his eyes for a brief second. "I wanted to get to know you, but I didn't know how to approach it. However, that doesn't mean I haven't wondered. I've been trying to guess what you could have experienced that would have left you so loathe to get close to anyone." Ben snorted and shook his head. "For all my imagining, I must say that you having grown up in such an elite environment certainly never crossed my mind." Ben marched over to the coffee table and picked the folder containing Riley's father's legal papers and waved it for emphasis. "For all your bitching about money over the years, I would have figured you as having grown up in the poorhouse!"
Riley bristled at the insult "So, what are you saying, Ben?" His tone implied that his friend had better be careful in how he worded his response.
Ben rambled on, oblivious to the verbal cue. "I'm saying that certain things you have said and done in the last five years have been cast under a different light and a part of me can't help but see them that way. Is it a billion dollar pipe? Is it a million dollar pipe? We came all this way for a dead end? You could have had a bigger house! Do any of these remarks ring a bell?"
Riley stiffened as an invisible knife sliced through his gut. He swallowed thickly, but couldn't bring himself to respond.
"My personal favorite was when you tried to smuggle that huge chunk of gold in your backpack while the rest of us were trying to find our way out of Cibola. Really, how did you think you were going to get that out of there, anyway? That kind of weight would have dragged you down to a watery grave. Not to mention, if Mitch had caught you trying to steal the treasure that I had promised him, he would likely have killed us all. You know, if you hadn't proven your loyalty in other ways, I might have been forced to think you only assisted me in the treasure hunts for the potential reward."
Riley laughed derisively. He was hurt, but he was fed up with Ben's black and white viewpoint on life. It was clear, then, that he had never really known him at all. If he had, he wouldn't have said something so crass. "Assisted? That's beautiful, Ben, because I thought I was helping you as a friend. Did it ever occur to you that I might have needed a little of that money to save my ass? The first time, Ian wasn't so forthcoming with that money he had promised. If you didn't notice, I was living out of my van during the final days of our search for the Templar's treasure. By Cibola, I was facing jail time if I didn't pay the IRS $6,000,000. Thankfully, the IRS considered most of my finder's fee to be an even trade. I even got to keep my home.
"So, I was right that day in the coffee shop. I was only a tool, brought in to do the dirty work, so that you, alone, could reap the reward. God forbid that I have anything to show for it, because that would be positively sinful!"
Ben finally realized what he said and he sighed defeated as his eyes drifted closed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"How did you mean it, then?" Riley stared at Ben, ready to throw down, if need be. The tension had been building all week and it was time that it was finally out in the open.
"That you assisted me as in helped me. God, how do you think I meant it?"
"So, that was why you ordered me around, talked down to me? Jesus, I was your chauffer, your hacker, someone you could bark orders at like you were some domineering overlord. When it came to my thoughts, though, you couldn't be bothered with me. Even when I dropped my guard and was genuine with you that one time in front of the White House, you wouldn't even look at me much less listen to me. Ben, if it was you trying to convince me, you'd have less evidence and I would already believe you by now. Does that ring a bell?" He purposely mimicked the tone that Ben had just used with him. "Then, you couldn't even take my words, my book, on faith. You had to confirm my story with Sadusky before you could condescend to believe it. You know, because not reading my book hadn't been insulting enough."
Suddenly, Ben looked deflated. He looked down at the floor. "Are you ever going to let me live down not reading your book?"
"I don't know. Are you ever going to read it?"
"No." He rushed on, not giving Riley a chance to respond. "Do you want to know why? As your friend, I do not want to be put in the position where I have to give you an honest critique. If I were to like it, you would think I only said that, because I'm your friend. If I hated it, you would be offended. It's a lose-lose situation."
Riley exhaled through his nose, his sapphire eyes ascending heavenward. "There was a third option, Ben, but you chose not to see it. You could have read my book to read it. I wasn't looking for a review worthy of the New York Times book list, but just to have your support. I mean, I have always supported you and your outlandish plans. I was looking for, maybe, a fraction of that faith in return.
Ben looked at Riley, winded. "I never thought about it that way."
"No, you didn't, because you suck at understanding people. You are an absolute freaking genius with historical facts and figures, but your people skills need work in a bad way."
Ben held out his hand. "Hi, my name is Kettle. You must be Pot."
Riley glared at him in return. "You are so hilarious. That was as funny as your implication that I only stuck by you for the money. Really, Ben, I didn't have to follow you all over the world and risk my life for money. I grew up with it and if I had wanted it that badly, I would have just stayed here in Hartford to begin with."
"You signed your name to the money without a second thought. What do you think that implies?"
Riley felt the warmth rush to his cheeks and he knew his face was beet-red. "I signed for it to be left alone! Okay, I thought maybe I would take enough to live on. That wasn't a federal offense the last time I checked! The rest of it? Who knows? There must be a charity or organization that will want it. Maybe, it would make a lovely fire. I didn't come here to claim it, because I wanted to be rich. I came here to claim it, so that I could close this chapter on my life. Why is that so difficult for you to understand?"
"Because, you haven't really told me why. Okay, your father treated you like dirt. I got that. Why did you take so long to leave home? Why did you go to the school he chose? Why did you decide to come here, if this legacy was what you were walking into? It doesn't add up, Riley! If you didn't want the damned money, you didn't have to take it! You could have just stayed in Washington. You could have left this behind forever, if you had just ignored it! No, don't give me the bullshit about it not being about the money, because that is all it seems to be!"
Ben tossed the inheritance folder onto Riley's bed where the contents spilled out. "Have you really looked through all that? I did, during your countless naps in the hospital when I was searching for some clue to help your ungrateful self! Deeds, bank accounts, stocks. There's about 150 years' accumulated wealth in that folder. Do you think I'm going to buy that you're going to be able to give that away? As long as it continues to accrue upon itself, it will never be spent. Your children, Hell, your grandchildren will never spend all of it! You are a very wealthy man, Mister Poole. You know, I don't care if you wanted a cut of it. To tell you the truth, you are entitled to it after what you claim to have put up with. You've paid your dues. Just be honest with me about it. Don't preach to me from your soapbox when your actions, your lifestyle choices, clearly contradict your words."
Riley stared at the papers with enough animosity that they should have burst into flames, hoping that the anger would mask the betrayal that cut at his soul. "Wow, you really know how to be a hypocrite! I didn't notice you were especially eager to turn down the finders' fees from the treasures. You have the unmitigated audacity to stand there and dress me down when you had your hand out for your share of the reward." Riley looked up, his glare matching Ben's intense gaze. "If the treasure hunts really weren't about the money, as you have claimed, you wouldn't have had a problem with walking away empty-handed."
Ben's face turned a deeper red as his eyes literally blazed. Riley couldn't remember a time he had ever seen his friend this angry and he knew he had struck a nerve. "How dare you!" he sputtered, his voice a low, angry growl.
"No, how dare you!" Riley countered. "How can you take money that really wasn't yours and still preach to me about accepting money that came to me by birthright? You can't help who you were born to, but you can certainly choose to honor a promise to find a treasure for the betterment of world history and not merely the enrichment of your wallet!" Riley narrowed his eyes and delivered the killer blow. "I'll bet you a quarter million that your grandfather is spinning in his grave as we speak."
Ben's eyes went as big as saucers and his face turned a deeper shade of scarlet, if that was possible. He marched over to Riley in one stride and punched his face, sending Riley sprawling on his back from the blow.
Riley sat up, holding his cheek. He stared at his friend with wide eyes, all traces of sardonic attitude and hostility gone from his mind. He had never seen this side to Ben. Hell, he never knew this side existed. He knew his remark had crossed a line, but it hadn't warranted that kind of reaction.
Had it?
As suddenly as his temper flared, Ben looked stricken, guilty. "Jesus, I don't know- I mean, I'm sor-." He took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Riley. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why do we keep doing this?" he asked softly. "We're supposed to be best friends. Why do I feel we're more like glorified acquaintances?
"Your perception of reality is as relative as mine," Riley muttered ruefully.
Ben regarded him curiously. "What?"
"It's all relative. I mean, all this time we've been under the impression that we're best friends. Maybe we only see it that way, because neither of us has other friends. We're only best friends by default, not because we're all that close. Our perceptions are coloring the reality."
Ben looked troubled. "I hope not. In the coffee shop you asked me what you were to me. I consider us to be friends. I just meant to be a better friend to you."
"Huh?"
"When we were in the airport in Paris, I made a promise to myself to get to know you better, you know, when we were done unraveling the mystery about my ancestor. I failed you. The mystery was solved, we found Cibola and I let us drift apart again. I'm surprised you haven't written me off long before now."
Riley shrugged. "I guess I figured that a friend who ignores you seventy-five percent of the time is better than none at all."
Ben ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable," he muttered.
"What?" Riley asked, slightly hesitant.
"Even after people have spent a lifetime throwing you away, you still turned out to be a loyal, decent person."
"Ha!" Riley laughed, humorlessly. "Just like a dog! Yell at me, insult me and ignore me, but throw a kind word my way and I'll come back to do the whole thing again!"
"I hope that isn't how you see yourself," Ben said softly, concern and sadness etching his features.
"It's kind of hard not to, sometimes." Riley cleared his throat. "Ben, if you hadn't wanted my help to clear your ancestor's name, when would you have looked me up? Or would you have looked me up at all?"
"Honestly, I don't know."
Riley laughed, but it was devoid of humor. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Wow, you really know how to kill a moment! One minute, you're preaching to me about being my best friend and the next you're telling me that you couldn't possibly condescend to acknowledge my existence unless I'm doing the dirty work for your treasure pursuits. This isn't a time for you to sit the fence. Pick a side. Are you really my best friend or am I just a means to your end?"
"I guess that depends on you. Are you going to let me in? It's not healthy to keep stuff bottled up inside. Take it from someone who's been there. I could write a book on being the lonely person who people cast aside, so don't treat me like I don't know where you're coming from. I know it all too well."
"With one major exception, Ben. Your parents actually gave a damn about you. Even if you had no one else, you still had them. I didn't have that luxury. So, do not deign to insinuate that you know what I'm about, because you don't. "
"I'm trying, but you aren't making it easy!" Ben took a deep, calming breath. "Look, would it make it things easier if I leveled the playing field?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what if I told you something about myself, the one thing that I am the most loathe to share with anyone else. In turn, to keep things on an even keel, you must do the same."
To say that Riley was uncomfortable with the idea was an understatement. He felt like he was suddenly sitting on needles. "I don't know."
"You wanted to know if we're friends or not. If we cannot trust each other on this level, then we have our answer."
Riley looked at his lap. This was the downside to friendship, he realized. Having to let people in. Having to take that risk that, once you bared all, you lost the upper hand and they could take or leave you as they pleased. "I'm not even the same person I was then. Why do you have to know?"
"Because I want to know who I have been friends with for the last five years. I want to know what has happened to make you who you are."
"Where should I start? Let's see, I honed my hacking skills as a teen when I used to wire money from my father's bank account to pay for computers and other gadgets. Or, maybe, I should tell you about the time a so-called college friend and I snuck off to go smoke joints in the local cemetery. I have to say, that if it wasn't for either of those two experiences, I wouldn't be the man I am today."
"Oh, just cut the sarcastic crap! That isn't what I meant and you know it! I want to know what happened to you. What was the one moment in your life that became the turning point that defined everything that came after?"
There was a long silence as Riley mulled it over. He knew almost everything about Ben, where he had come from and what made him who he was. Such knowledge had come with the initial job. But, Riley had made himself a mystery. He drew a long breath, hoping that it could provide him with some courage and met Ben's concerned gaze head on.
"You said you were going first, right?"
Ben nodded and ran his hand through his hair. He looked troubled. Usually so confident, he looked a bit scared. For a second, Riley almost reconsidered and let Ben off the hook, afraid to know what his friend might reveal.
"I never told you, but I wasn't the only child my parents had."
That got Riley's attention. "No, I think I would remember that."
"Abigail doesn't even know. I've never talked about it."
Riley swallowed. What had he made his friend do? What had happened to this sibling that had been so awful? "Ben-."
"It's okay, Riley," Ben said, holding up his hand. "It isn't fair of me to ask you to spill your guts if I'm not willing to do the same.
"When I was eight, Mom found out she was pregnant. Dad was between clues for the treasure and he was ecstatic at the news. They even stopped quarreling as much.
"However, I was less than enthralled at the idea of a younger sibling. In fact, I was as much a demon as I could be. I was constantly in my parents' hair about how against the whole thing I was, even though they were relentless in their insistence that I would be the best big brother. It was a role I did not want, selfish as it may sound. It's ridiculous, I know, but back then I was angry that I didn't have enough of my parents' attention. With their previous bickering and Dad always away on trips, I felt like I was constantly in the background and this newest arrival would just make a bad situation worse.
"Dad was away, researching another clue when my baby brother was born. I was the first to hold him as Mom was still unconscious from the drugs the doctor had given her. My brother looked at me with the widest blue eyes and all I could do was glare at him with all the hate I could muster. Right then and there, I wished with all my might that he didn't exist, that he would just go away."
Ben swallowed thickly and his voice shuddered as he told the nest part of his tale. "Right after the birth, my brother developed complications. He wouldn't take a bottle. The doctor's couldn't figure out why. He died when he was five days old. He never left the hospital. I blamed myself, because I felt that my hatred somehow made this happen.
"It was the final straw for my parents' marriage. They tried to hang on, but it just dissolved. Dad blamed the treasure for that and not being there when he was needed. I think it was one of the main reasons he gave up the hunt altogether.
"There was no talking about this with my parents, not that I ever had the nerve to bring this up. They buried it under the rug. In fact, they still won't say his name. I don't think they've been to his grave since the funeral. It's like he never existed."
"Jesus Christ," Riley whispered. "Ben, I'm so sorry."
"Earlier, you accused me of smothering you. I failed my brother, but I vowed I would never fail anyone else who came into my life. I guess that could translate into overprotecting those that come into my life. I took my brother for granted. I don't want to make that mistake again."
"There's no way you could help what happened. It wasn't your fault."
"I know that, now, but I'm still not proud of my actions, then."
"What was his name?" Riley asked softly
"Paul Revere Gates."
Riley made a face. "Ugh! Your family and those names! I hope you and Abi break that curse! Otherwise, your kid might grow up and try to murder you in your sleep. Then, I will be forced to testify on your child's behalf that the insane name you gave him or her drove him or her to commit such a desperate act! Or, your kid might just need intense therapy."
Ben chuckled a little. "Just for that, we are going to pick the most obnoxiously patriotic names we can think of."
"You only have yourselves to blame when the inevitable happens. By the way, what flowers do you guys want at your funeral? I mean, I assume you'll be buried together. You do everything else together."
"That's a lovely sentiment. Seriously, you might have a career writing for Hallmark."
"That was too funny for words."
There was a pause. "Are you up to telling your story?"
Riley felt every fiber of his being draw inward. "Not really. Then again, I never am."
Ben placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Take your time."
"Uh, yeah, see that's like the worst thing you could do right now." Riley shook off Ben's hand. "No offense."
Ben blinked, but drew his hand back. "None taken."
Riley drew his knees up to his chest, making himself as small on the bed as he could. If he had to do this, he would have some kind of defensive wall, just in case. He kept his eyes fixated on his knees. He couldn't look at his friend, though he could feel those light blue eyes trained on him. He was afraid to read Ben's face, afraid to see how he would react. He felt like a child, then, trapped inside a grown man's body.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth, frowning, thinking a moment. Again, he opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. He rubbed his forehead.
"Ben, I don't think I can," he said.
"Take your time."
Riley again tried to speak, but the invisible vice had a tenacious hold on his tongue. Damn it! He made a noise that resembled a growl and he sighed in frustration.
Just do it. Don't think about it."
Telling himself that didn't help, either. The more he tried not to think about the details of his story, the worse the memories got. He drew a shaky breath as he looked at his best friend.
"I-I'm sorry. I just c-can't.
The expression in Ben's eyes immediately changed from concern to ire to hurt, though his face remained an unreadable wall. He looked away from Riley and stood up, clearing his throat
"I guess I should try to call Sadusky before it gets much later. Abigail's waiting to hear from me, too," he said, simply, but there was an edge to his voice. He purposely avoided eye contact. He grabbed his coat from the back of a dining chair and collected his key card and cell phone from the dining table. He left the room, letting the door click softly shut behind him.
Riley sat on the bed, his knees still drawn up to his chest. Ben was obviously pissed and Riley couldn't blame him. He had just taken his friend's trust in him and thrown it right back in his face. After all his doubt of Ben's sincerity in being his friend, it was Riley who ended up being the lousy friend. How ironic.
He stretched out his legs. He briefly considered making some dinner. He hadn't eaten since his mushy breakfast in the hospital and he had to keep his strength up. However, he couldn't muster an appetite. He felt sick at the thought of the hurt in his friend's eyes. He knew he would have to make it up to him and he knew the only way he could do that was to be totally honest about his past. That was, if Ben still wanted to know.
He gathered up the papers that had been strewn across his bed. Even though he was now the owner of all these documents, he hadn't yet poured through them. Now, he couldn't avoid looking at each paper. He swallowed as his queasiness worsened. Ben had been right. There was more wealth contained within these papers than could ever be spent in one lifetime. He was the proud owner of a fortune built on hate. He felt like the punch line to a very cruel joke.
However, a particular paper caught his eye. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly dropped the stack he was holding. It was a photocopy of an article accompanied by a picture that Riley knew all too well. It was a photo of himself, Ben and Abigail taken shortly after the Templar's treasure discovery. What this doing in his father's folder among a stack of stocks, bonds and deeds?
Now, Riley knew how his father's private investigator had been able to track him down. Still, why had the old man kept the paper? It would have served no use to him after the task was done.
Riley tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he wouldn't be able to avert the tears this time. Had his father suddenly decided to give a damn about him after all these years? Why had he bothered after all the crap he had put Riley through? It was almost insulting. What was he supposed to do with that information, now?
"You son of a bitch! Why couldn't you be there when it would have counted? " Riley crumpled the papers he was holding in his fist and threw them with all the force he could muster. They fell like confetti across the end of his bed and on the floor. He picked up the remaining papers and folder and threw them. "All you cared about was your damned money, but you couldn't take it with you!"
He wasn't satiated. He flung one king-sized pillow, with no particular direction in mind. It took out his bedside lamp. The small light fixture hit the thinly carpeted floor, hard. The shade and light bulb shattered.
"Did you really think it mattered that you cared at the end? You only hated me my whole worthless life! Why did you ever bother with me at all!" He threw the other king-sized pillow, taking out Ben's lamp.
"I hope you're burning in Hell!" He wrenched the alarm clock's cord from the wall and hurled it. The device broke apart as it hit the far wall and left a fair-sized dent in its wake.
Out of projectiles within an arm's reach and spent from his outburst, the tears fell. He buried his face in his hands and let himself go. He stayed like that for a while as every pent-up emotion broke free. A part of him was glad that Ben couldn't see him break down like this, but another part of him had never felt so alone. He wished he hadn't been so determined to drive his friend away.
His cell phone rang, a heavy rock and roll riff cutting through the heavy silence in the room. Riley started, but he didn't immediately reach for the phone. The ringtone didn't relent, though, and Riley hesitantly picked up the device and hit the Talk button, swallowing a sob as he did so.
"Hello," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Riley, it's Abigail." There was a pause. "I didn't wake you, did I? You don't sound like yourself."
Riley frowned in confusion. She rarely ever calls my phone. "It's all good, Abi. What is it?"
"Is Ben with you?"
"No, he left the room about twenty minutes ago to call you and Sadusky." Riley's insides turned to ice. "Abi, what's going on?"
Abigail sounded slightly frantic. "I don't know. We were talking and the call abruptly dropped. I thought it was a random thing, but he didn't call back. I tried to call him back three times and each call went straight to his voice mail. I think something is wrong."
Riley tried to downplay Abi's concern, if only to quell the dread welling up inside him. "Signals drop out all the time. It's nothing to be paranoid about."
"He never lets my calls go to voice mail, if he can help it and if a call should drop, he always gets back to me right away!" Abigail was adamant and the tone made Riley sit up a little straighter. "Right before the call dropped, I swore I heard a muffled voice in the background and what sounded like scuffling, like he might have dropped his phone. Riley, I have a bad feeling."
"Abi, I-." Riley never had time to finish that thought as the door burst open. His eyes widened in fear as he beheld Burton and Louis standing in the doorway.
"What is it? What is that noise?"
"We're in some serious trouble here. Call-." Riley was abruptly cut off as Louis crossed the room in three long strides and snatched the phone from Riley's hand, turning it off. Burton followed, a syringe clutched tightly in his hand.
"I believe we have a bit of unfinished business, Master Landley."
