Chapter Seventy Nine

...

Connor's boss sighed as Connor knocked on the door. He hardly waited for Connor to close the door behind him before he said, "I've lost you, haven't I, Kemp?"

Connor had the decency to look abashed, but he straightened and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Narrowing his eyes at his soon-to-be former employee, he asked, "Was it the dental?"

Biting back his laugh, Connor shook his head. "It wasn't the dental, sir."

"Is there anything I can offer to keep you here?"

"Unlikely, sir."

Cursing heatedly, he sighed again, then took out a form from his desk drawer. "It was worth a shot. Your resignation form; hand it in to HR by the end of the day. You have a week to find a replacement and another week to train them."

"Yes, sir," Connor said, taking the form and waiting a moment, in case he needed to do anything else.

"Go on, Kemp. You've got big shoes to fill," he said firmly.

Literally and figuratively, Connor thought with a slight grin as he left the office in his size fourteen boots.

...

"Welcome back to the Montreal Bank of Canada, Mr. Forge. How may we be of assistance today?"

"I want to view my safety deposit box."

"Of course, Mr. Forge. This way, please."

Adjusting his shirt cuffs - the blue one Honey had insisted on - Craig followed the man through the bank. Signing the digital screen with his father's signature, Craig stood stock still as the biometric scan started to scan his face and eyes. He was struck with a sudden fear and he desperately tried not to let it show.

What if he didn't have the eyes completely right? His father had hardly looked at him after he shifted that first time, so it wasn't like Craig's memories were flooded with perfect recollection of his father's eyes. What if he was found out? Honey was right outside, and she'd promised both Grant and Jewel that he'd come back safe, but that didn't mean everything would go right, did it?

The screen lit up green, the small man smiling and holding the door open for him. Craig exhaled slowly, letting his fears disappear as he headed deeper into the bank. The door shut behind him, closing with the sort of sound that made him wonder how the hell Honey would save him if something went wrong from this point on.

"Your key, Mr. Forge," the man said, offering the small silver key to him.

Craig took the key with a nod and without thanks, then headed to the security boxes that lined the wall. He hoped Honey's vision had been correct with the left and right because if that bank guy saw him going to the wrong box, he'd be screwed.

Going to the left, Craig saw the security deposit box labelled 1091 and slid the key into the slot without checking the key label. The key turned effortlessly and he pulled the door open, tugging out the security box.

"Would you like me to run a report, Mr. Forge?" the man asked suddenly, still at the access station.

Craig frowned at the box, unsure as to what report was he talking about. Figuring Ethan could look it over at the very least, Craig nodded shortly. Tucking the box under his arm, he closed the door, removed the key, and went to the curtained area to unlock the deposit box.

An ATM card and bank details were the least of what his father had locked away.

There were wads of cash in different currencies, the colours bright and foreign, as well as several passports - only for his father and Cara, Craig noted. He hated that he was disappointed by the knowledge, and instead focused on the card wallet filled with ATM cards for banks across the world: Africa, Asia, Abu Dhabi, the Caribbean, Singapore, Hong Kong, Sweden, Luxembourg, and even more scattered across North America. Each card had a slip of paper with the bank account's details written in his father's precise handwriting. Craig wondered just how much money his father had deposited in each of these banks. He grinned, knowing he'd find out sooner rather than later.

Grateful for the briefcase Honey had given him just before they arrived, Craig unlatched it, sprung the lid, and tipped the whole deposit box into it, not wanting to waste another moment. He had no idea how long these sorts of things usually took, but Craig didn't want to give the bank guy a reason to suspect him of something. Closing the briefcase, Craig closed the security deposit box's lid as well and headed back to his door, replacing the empty box and locking the door tight.

"Your report, Mr. Forge," the man announced as he arrived at the access station, handing a glossy print with several coloured graphs and most importantly, an account balance.

Craig almost choked when he saw the amount of zeros.

"Would you like to make a withdrawal, Mr. Forge?" the man offered.

Yes, he definitely would.

The phone in his pocket rang and Craig turned away to answer it when he saw Honey's name on the screen. "Hello?"

"Leave the money. Do not take it," Honey said, a sense of urgency in her tone.

"Very well. I'll deal with it when I see you next," Craig said to the dial tone, ending the call and pocketing his phone. "No withdrawal today," he said, taking the report and putting it in his pocket as he headed out of the security deposit area and back to the main area of the bank.

"Mr. Forge?" the man called.

Wait or run?

He stopped, turned, and levelled the man with a withering stare.

The man smiled briefly. "You dropped your pen, Mr. Forge."

Taking the pen, Craig nodded, turned on his heel and left without a word of goodbye, just as his father always did. Certain that he heard the man mutter 'asshole' behind him, Craig couldn't help but agree.

...

"Getting out of Canada was worse than getting into the bank, I fucking swear. I almost pissed myself going through Customs. If Honey hadn't been there, I'd still be hiding in the bathroom," Craig groaned.

"That's all lovely to hear, Craig. More to the point: did you get what you went to the bank for?" Layla asked.

Craig's laughter was bright on the other end of the phone. "Did I ever! I got that and more. Mr. Phillips better be ready."

"I've set up several accounts to allow for the international fees and the exchange rates. With Adam's help, I should be able to empty all of the accounts by the end of the week," Ethan said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"No problem, Eth. We're doing an even split again, yeah?" Adam asked, looking around the Hive.

"No," Craig said quickly. "Take Eth's loan out of my share."

"You sure, dude?"

"Yeah. I can't miss what I don't have, right?" Craig added.

"Eth says the same thing about his weekly savings contribution," Zach said, grinning.

Ethan smiled at his boyfriend, his smile fading when the others looked at him. "What?"

"Why are you adding more to your savings? You have a shitton of money and it's already getting, what, eight percent interest?" Donny said.

"Eight point seven five," Ethan corrected. "And I'd prefer to save my money than squander it. Besides, we don't know how long any of our current incomes will last, and I'd prefer not to be homeless and starving by the time I'm twenty-five."

"You won't be; Lay can make food, remember?" Craig said, snickering.

"I'm hanging up on you, dude."

"No, wait. Lemme talk to Grant and Jewel."

"Call them yourself, I don't want to have to sanitise my phone," Adam said with a wince.

He hung up on Craig's laughter. A minute later, Grant and Jewel excused themselves when Jewel's phone started ringing.

"I don't want to be here for this; I'm going into the forest," Donny announced, leaving the Hive without waiting for a response.

Adam shuddered and went to his soundproofed room.

"How about we organise things for next weekend? I didn't sell as many paintings as I'd like, so we can have a look at the setup and see if we can sell more next time," Layla suggested.

"Anita has some books on business strategy and marketing. I can ask to borrow them if this new setup doesn't work?" Zach offered.

"The Supermarket Super Strategy is a useful book; they include layouts and case studies," Ethan said.

"Oh, yes please. Even if it does work out, they still sound useful," Layla said.

Zach smiled and made a note on his phone so he wouldn't forget. Ethan looked to his watch, then decided he could reschedule their make out session for today. Taking his boyfriend's hand, he led him to the lower Hive, calling out a farewell over his shoulder.

Wendy snorted. "I doubt they're going to talk about shelving strategies," she said. "On that note, I might go try to find Donny."

Warren looked over to Layla as they were left alone. "Still want help with the restructure or should we jump on the bandwagon?" he asked, grinning.

Layla laughed and tied her hair up with a vine before she pulled him in close to kiss him heatedly.

...

"Forge, you've been bailed," the guard said.

Cara grit her teeth; she hated the guards, but even more than that, she hated her surname. She'd been all too happy to be rid of the thing when she married Victor. Forge was an unknown, a nothing, whereas Harland was known throughout the world. Or, at least, the high society world she cared about.

Still, she'd been bailed out, and she could get the hell out of here. Maybe she could go somewhere else in the US, start a new life, somewhere fresh where she could make her own high society. Cara reached out for the door with her left hand, swallowing her disgust at the stump on the end of her arm. Gloves were all the rage, so she'd get the best prosthetic that money could buy and no one would even have to know. Cara refused to be pitied for this.

Just wait until she had the twins back. There were ways of getting around super restraining barriers - namely bribes - and Cara would have them back one way or another. Her father had given her details of a super conversion therapy place in Montana, and once the twins had come out and were normal again, she'd take them and live somewhere that would appreciate her. She'd probably even get sympathy from people for being a single mother to twins, too.

She had some money herself, but Cara knew that her father had saved a significantly larger amount and hidden it away, even if he didn't know that she knew. They were cut from the same cloth, so Cara knew that he wouldn't have kept everything in the same account or ledger; they were both smarter than that. Of course her brilliant father would have another bank account hidden away, and she could use the money to get a prosthetic, get the twins, pay for the conversion therapy, and if there was enough leftover, she could even pay her father's bail.

All of this ran through her mind as she left the prison cells and collected her things. Once she'd changed into her clothes, Cara went out to the waiting area to see who had posted her bail. Seeing Greta Auden in the waiting area, all thoughts of leaving Maxville left Cara's mind. There was no way Greta would bail her out without wanting something in return, so that meant her own plans would have to be put on hold until she was truly free once more.

Fuck.

Walking over to Greta, Cara tried not to glare too much. "What do you want?"

"Lovely to see you too, Ms. Forge," Greta said, smirking when she saw Cara's imperceptible flinch at the name. "Why don't we discuss this outside?" she suggested, not quite glaring at the guards.

Fresh air, freedom, seemed like the best idea ever. Even if Greta fucking Auden would probably be polluting the air beside her. Cara nodded and followed her benefactor outside.

"What happened to your hand?" Greta asked as they walked through the prison towards the exit.

"I escaped and went after the twins. Super restraining barrier," Cara added.

Greta nodded as though she didn't actually care. Cara stopped short of the exit, though she could see the bright summer's day right there.

"What are you doing?" Greta asked, frowning at her.

"I want to see my father."

Greta's frown deepened. "Why? He's still incarcerated."

"I don't care. I want to see him."

Greta sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll go there now."

Cara smiled and stepped outside to fresh air and freedom for the first time in what felt like years.

...

Mr. Forge was a patient man. He had spent most of his adult life planning how to successfully embezzle hundreds of millions of dollars from his company as well as their competitors. As an accountant, creating fake bank accounts and then transferring that very real money to his own accounts was simple. He had spent most of the time since his first embezzlement working his ass off. Half of it was paranoia that he'd be caught, that one of the other financial workers would realise that the accounts were fake and start investigating, while the other half was his own pride and desire to make it higher up the corporate ladder than being a lowly bean counter.

After years of hard work, working over holidays, working overtime, and working each time to ensure that both the fake books and real ones were perfect, Mr. Forge had almost made it: the corner office in the main Montana head office. The state's anti-super views and approval of super conversion therapy was the icing on the cake. Then his fucking freak of a son had gone and ruined everything.

As soon as Cara returned with his money to bail him out, Mr. Forge was going to drag that ungrateful little shit across the border himself.

"Forge, you've got a visitor."

Sitting up on his cot, Mr. Forge tried not to frown at the guard's words. If it was Cara, then she should be bailing him out not visiting him. Maybe there had been a problem with the money? Or perhaps his wife had finally decided to visit him?

Following the guard out of his cell and through the prison, Mr. Forge stopped short in the doorway when he saw his daughter. Cara looked pale and as he approached, he saw that she was missing a hand. What the fuck had happened in Canada?

"Daddy. Oh, it's so good to see you again. Are you all right?" Cara asked, her eyes filling with tears.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, staring at the missing limb.

"I broke out of prison and went after the twins. I didn't know they had a super restraining order on them," Cara admitted, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I was bailed out by Greta Auden this morning and I came straight here. I hate that you're in here, Daddy. I'm going to save up enough money to get you out," she promised.

Mr. Forge finally tore his eyes away and blinked when Cara's words sunk in. "This morning? Then... you haven't been to Canada?"

Cara frowned at the odd question. "Of course not. Well, not since our last holiday there. Are you all right, Daddy? You look like you're going to faint," she said, her eyes wide.

"You... it wasn't you. Your brother. Your fucking... Go, Cara. Find your brother. Bring him to me. Drag him here if you have to. Do whatever you have to. He stole my money. He's stolen it, probably all of it by now! I don't know how he knew the answers, but he did, and I told him where it was hidden. Find him! Cara, you need to find that freak and bring him to me!"

Cara blinked at the words, trying to piece things together as two guards came over to her ranting and raging father.

"What's going on, Forge?" the guard snapped.

Her father continued to rant angrily and didn't respond. Unfortunately for him, he started threatening Craig, but the guard mistook his words as a threat to himself, so the two guards tackled Mr. Forge and dragged him away. The other guests and prisoners watched as he was dragged away, still screaming.

Cara waited until the noise died down before standing and leaving, her body feeling like wood. Her brother had come to the prison posing as her, answered her father's security questions somehow, and had been given the location of his embezzled money and promptly stolen it.

The money that she had saved was probably enough for a prosthetic, but beyond that, Cara would have nothing. The thought made her nauseous and she ducked into the closest bathroom to throw up. As she cleaned her face and rinsed her mouth, Cara thought of her options. She'd hardly listened to Greta's plan, so sure that she'd be able to leave the woman behind once she had her father's money in her hands. Well, hand.

Now, it seemed that she'd be stuck with Greta until she could find Craig again. She had no idea where her ex-husband would have taken the twins, and while she was sure the bleeding heart would have taken Craig on too, Cindy might've returned from her cruise by now. He could be anywhere in the world, let alone the country.

Fuck.

Cara inhaled and exhaled, then left the prison and headed to Greta's parked car. "Explain this whole thing to me again, would you?" she said, hating that she would be stuck with this woman for the unforeseeable future.

Greta hid her smile as she pulled out of the parking lot. She started driving towards her home, detailing the plan once more. This time, Cara listened intently.

...

Connor set down the last box, then looked around for Ry, who was supposed to be unpacking. Heading through the two-bedroom apartment didn't take long and he found his son asleep on his bed, curled up in his blanket with the bed itself still unmade. Connor sighed and left Ry to sleep; the new drug had a side-effect that made Ry more tired than usual, and the summer heat didn't help. Fortunately, Ry was no longer throwing up at random hours of the day, and his voice was already starting to drop.

Deciding that the new fridge would look even better with actual food in it, Connor wrote a note for Ry, then grabbed his car keys and headed outside, closing the front door behind him quietly.

Honey had given him a 'welcome to Maxville' pack, including a map of the busy metropolis, circling a grocery store or two and adding post-its to provide more information for other places, like the "best Chinese restaurant in town". Heading to the closest grocery store that bordered Westville and Maxville, Connor parked the car and went inside with a shopping cart.

He hadn't grabbed a shopping list, but figured that some of everything would probably be a good start. Ry preferred fresh fruit and Connor figured that if there were some grapes and cherries, his son might be less temperamental when he woke him up later.

Starting in the fresh fruit section, Connor grabbed a bag of apples and looked for black grapes around the store. A flash of red caught his attention, Connor recognising the redheaded kid from the Hive. Seeing that the black grapes were nearby, he headed that way with the cart, deciding it wouldn't be too weird if he said hello, right?

"Hey," Connor said before he'd really thought it through.

Yeah, an older guy talking to a teenager in the grocery store. Fuck, it was weird and creepy.

The redhead turned at the greeting, his eyes narrowing slightly, head tilting as he tried to remember where he'd met Connor before. Realisation dawned a second later and he grinned. "Hey. Connor, right?"

Oh, thank fuck. Not as weird anymore, surely.

"Yeah, that's right. I, uh, just moved here with my son. Thought I'd say hi," Connor said.

"I don't get why baby food is so expensive," a man muttered, pushing a stroller over to Craig.

The words had Connor looking to the man, his eyes widening slightly. The man was gorgeous. He had black hair, bright blue eyes, a lithe body, with fantastically-fitted suit pants, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. While he had the indentation of a wedding ring on his hand, there was no ring in sight. And on the matter of his hands, his fingers were long and thin, and Connor couldn't stop himself from wondering how they'd feel on his body.

Jesus fucking Christ, he had to calm down. He didn't even know if the beautiful man was available or if he was even interested in men in the first place.

Craig grinned at the gorgeous man. "'Cause the shops know you'll buy it instead of making it yourself. You're paying premium for the convenience, man."

The man laughed, making himself even more desirable in Connor's eyes, and set several jars of baby food in the cart next to Craig. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Knowing my luck, I'd probably destroy the kitchen if I tried making puree anyway," he admitted, grinning.

Connor was going to leave, really, he was. He was also not going to ask for the gorgeous man's number because that would definitely be weird.

The man straightened and seemed to notice Connor for the first time, looking between Craig and him with a confused expression. Connor was surely just imagining that the man's gaze lingered on him for a fraction longer.

"Oh, this is Connor. He's working for Honey; he's the one I told you about, from the Hive's opening weekend," Craig added.

"Oh, right. Hi, Connor. I'm Victor," he introduced, holding out a hand.

Connor shook his hand firmly, his heart beating an erratic rhythm in his chest, and he tried not to let himself linger over the man's touch. "Nice to meet you, Victor," he said, the words practically a purr of desire.

Victor looked somewhere between surprised and flustered, but then one of the twins started wailing loudly. He withdrew his hand like a shot, moving to grab his child and settle him down, patting Elijah's back gently and discreetly sniffing to check if he needed a diaper change. Determining that he was just tired - it was past his nap time - Victor focused on soothing his upset son and forcing himself not to stare at Connor.

"Hey, why don't you and your son come to dinner this Friday? We're doing a pot luck at Edith's and the more the merrier. Besides, free food, am I right?" Craig added, grinning.

Connor surprised himself by nodding. His first thought wasn't himself, nor Victor's beautiful face and eyes and hands, but instead it was Ryuu. His son had always found it difficult to make friends, but he was great with kids. Connor knew that Ry would at least enjoy seeing the twins, even if he didn't make friends with the other kids his age. "Yeah. That would be great. You sure Edith won't mind?" he asked, not knowing who Edith was, but not wanting to intrude.

Victor grinned as he settled Elijah, hoping Elliot wouldn't start. "Trust me, Mother would love the opportunity to find out the gossip about the town's newcomers," he said, stroking Elijah's baby-fine hair and trying to focus on something other than the man's silver hair and hazel eyes, willing himself not to look down at the man's hands.

He couldn't help himself from stealing a glance as he set Elijah back in the stroller, and felt a strange sense of relief when he saw Connor wasn't wearing a wedding ring. It didn't mean anything, of course, since people didn't need to be married to have children or be in a relationship. Besides, Victor wasn't even gay, so he didn't know why it was such a relief. Even though Connor was the most captivating man he'd ever seen before. Broad shoulders, tattoos down his arms, short silver hair, silver stubble on his face, and hazel eyes that he was sure were looking at him with desire.

Victor prided himself on recognising other people's emotions clearly - it was what made him a good lawyer, the ability to see through the lies, see the jury's reactions, to see which people were worth defending in court. He couldn't defend anyone in court unless his heart was fully invested, something that Cara had never seemed to understand. She didn't care who or why, just so long as he had the recognition and reward. Thinking of Cara made Victor's chest ache and he focused on his son again.

If he hadn't been able to see his own wife for what she was, what made him think he could correctly understand a complete stranger's feelings?

"Here, this is Edith's address. Victor's number's there too, just in case you get lost," Craig said, scribbling Edith's address and Victor's phone number on the back of the shopping list. "Dinner's usually around seven, but we'll be there all day so turn up whenever, okay? A whole bunch of other people are coming, and so's Honey, so you'll know at least one person. Well, three if you count me and Victor," he added, grinning.

"Thanks. I'll see you on Friday. Nice to see you again, Craig. Victor, nice to meet you," Connor said with a broad smile.

"You too," Victor replied, his shuttered expression and his tone cool.

Connor nodded briefly, not sure what he'd done to make Victor become so shuttered all of a sudden. Craig looked at his brother-in-law with a frown, but took his hand and squeezed gently, as though he could read his expression clearly and knew exactly what it meant.

"Uh, we'd better go. See you on Friday, Connor," Craig said with a quick smile, then guided the cart through the shop, Victor pushing the stroller beside him on autopilot.

Connor looked after them for a long moment, then shook his head and returned to his shopping, slipping Craig's shopping list in his pocket and feeling the thing burning a hole there. He had Victor's number, though the thought didn't satisfy him as he thought it would have. Connor just hoped that whatever he'd said or done could be put behind them and they could start again on Friday night. He might be able to find out if Victor was even interested in him, for a start.

Now, what the hell did people take to a pot luck?

...

"You don't have to be gay to like guys, you know that, right?" Craig asked.

The question was so out of left-field that Victor blinked and frowned over at Craig. "What?"

"Sexuality and attraction can be fluid, y'know. It's not a box that you stick yourself in for the rest of your life. Well, you don't have to at least," Craig added, shrugging.

"What are you talking about, Craig?" Victor asked, mostly confused and hoping he hadn't been that obvious with Connor. Had he stared at him for too long?

"Uh... You know how Donny can read minds?" Craig prompted.

Victor paled slightly. "You... you didn't change your form though."

"I've been practising. It's easier with Donny's power, since his is internal, yeah? I didn't mean to get his thoughts, it just happened."

"Wait, his thoughts?" Victor asked.

Craig coughed, as though he was hiding a laugh. "Oh, yeah. He was looking at you like you were a T-bone and he was starving."

Victor felt something ease in his chest.

"And, y'know, just 'cause you've been attracted to women before, it doesn't mean you can't be attracted to men too," Craig added, his voice firm and certain. "When I was a kid, I hated broccoli, but now I like it. Tastes change."

Victor didn't really think he could compare Connor to broccoli, but gave a brief nod. Even if he did want to admit that he was attracted to the silver-haired man, he still needed to work through everything he still felt about Cara, whether it was a twisted form of love as she was the mother of his children, or complete and utter hatred for her as a person.

"Just think about it, man. Connor probably would've jumped you if you hadn't shut him down at the end there," Craig said, smirking.

"Shut him down? I... I was thinking about Cara, not him," Victor said.

"Yeah, but he doesn't read minds; he didn't know that. S'all good, he's got your number and if he doesn't call or text, then you can explain on Friday. If you want, of course," Craig said. "No pressure at all, and if you need me to get him to back off, just I dunno, whistle or something."

Victor wanted to laugh at the very idea of Craig taking Connor down since the man was larger than his brother-in-law in every way, but Craig was completely and utterly serious with his offer. "Thanks, Craig, but I'm fine."

Craig popped a few grapes in his mouth and grinned with bulging cheeks. "Connor thought the same thing."

Victor couldn't help but smile at the thought. He shook his head at himself and continued to put the groceries away, though he found his thoughts returning to the silver-haired man more often than not.

Craig grinned to himself and headed through the house to find Edith and let her know to expect more people on Friday.

...

End of the seventy-ninth chapter.