Drifting by Nate Eiesland
This Used to Be My Playground by Madonna
Fire Dream by Joseph Trapanese
Talking to Wolves mashup by Marshmello/Linkin Park/Twenty One Pilots
Breathe by Moist
Runaway by Linkin Park
Stand by Me by Ki Theory
Special Forces by Lorne Balfe
1988
Montana, U.S.
Simon hid in the shadows at his mother's funeral. He didn't even know why he'd come; he felt nothing about it. After leaving the farm, he crashed at a friend's house for a few nights, but he knew he had to move on. He was still in trouble for what he'd done at school, and he figured Lance would convince the police he'd murdered Carol. He didn't need that kind of heat.
He turned his head to see a man in the shadows watching as well. He felt a tingle of anticipation. The man had an unreadable expression on his face. Then he caught sight of Simon. It was an unnerving stare. Simon immediately sensed this man had a lot of anger and pain inside. He didn't look away. He wanted this man to know that he wasn't afraid of him.
"Why aren't you over there?" the man finally asked, and Simon took in the British accent.
"I'm an outcast now," Simon answered. The man looked thoughtful as he kept studying Simon. A feeling of uncertainty filled Simon's chest suddenly.
"What if I told you there are more outcasts like you?" the man said.
"I'm listening," Simon replied.
"I can give you a means to release that anger you're bottling up inside," the man went on. "I can train you to be the strongest warrior."
"When do we start?"
The man smiled. "I'm Colter."
"Simon."
"I know."
"Did you know my mother?" Simon asked. He needed to know. Why else was this man here? Colter contemplated his answer for a moment before giving a slow nod.
"She was my sister."
This answer blew Simon away. He'd never thought of there being more aunts and uncles on his mother's side. He thought his Aunt Rosie had been the only one.
"You're my uncle," he said stupidly. Then he mentally chastised himself for sounding surprised. Surprise meant vulnerability, and he didn't want that. He had to maintain his toughness.
"That's right."
"Where have you been?" Simon demanded, making Colter chuckle.
"Working," he answered. "I'm a black ops assassin."
It was music to Simon's ears. This was his calling, and no wonder! It was in his very blood. He felt glee at getting a chance to be who he really was.
"Do they know about you?" Simon asked, gesturing towards Lance and Rita in the distance with his chin.
"No," Colter answered, but his tone indicated he wasn't entirely being truthful. "And I like it that way."
"Are you gonna kill them? I want to do it."
"Settle down," Colter instructed. "Lots of time before we get to them." Simon was antsy. He wanted to kill Lance now. He wanted to torture Rita for a while first before he killed her.
"Let's go then," Simon said. "I've seen enough." Colter took one look back at the grave site and gave a final nod.
"Your grandfather will be very pleased to meet you," Colter said as they walked to his car.
"I have a grandfather?!"
"Oh, kid. You've got much to learn," Colter said, opening the back door for Simon and then getting into the driver's side. Simon was riddled with excitement now. He was going to meet more family. He was going to become an assassin.
One day, Rita and Lance had better watch out.
...
Lance sat drinking on his front porch after Rita was asleep. He felt empty inside. Out of everything he'd thought would happen in his life, this had not been one of them. Really, nothing that had happened to him had been anything he'd thought would happen. He listened to a lone wolf howl, and he could relate to it. He was a single parent again, and he discovered that he wasn't about to change that anytime soon. He only needed Rita, and she only needed him. Yes, he wished she had some friends, but he wasn't going to give her another mother. He already felt guilty for not giving himself 100% to Carol. He wasn't about to give less to someone else.
He tensed when he heard tires on gravel, indicating a car was coming up his driveway. He clenched his glass, wondering if his past was finally catching up with him. When the car came into view, though, he relaxed. He watched it park and Lucy step out moments later, shutting the door softly behind her. The driver's side window was down, and she made her way towards him carefully.
"Got room for two?" she asked, approaching.
"Come on up," he answered, gesturing. She obliged, sitting in the chair next to him and putting her feet up on the railing. She declined an offer of a drink.
"What's got you out and about?" Lance asked, taking a sip of his.
"Keira wouldn't sleep," she answered, rubbing her face with her hand. "I took her for a drive to knock her out, and it worked. I thought I'd come see you and check in while I was out."
"That's kind of you."
"I'm the world's biggest meanie," Lucy corrected him. "Or have you forgotten?"
"Barb's an idiot," Lance retorted. "She has no idea what she's thrown away." Lucy sighed.
"It doesn't matter. I'm not gonna fight with her. If she hates me, she hates me. I can't do anything about it."
"Well, I'm sorry all the same."
"Don't be sorry. I'm here for you, remember?" she said, nudging his leg with her foot. "I'm sorry about Carol."
"Thank you."
"When I lost my Joel," Lucy said after a moment, "I remember feeling like the world had ended. I didn't think I could go on."
"Yet here you are," Lance replied.
"Here I am," she agreed. She reached to put her hand on his arm fondly. "People always ask me how I can still believe in God after losing Joel, but I wouldn't have made it without God. We don't get the answers here about why bad things happen. It was part of a plan, and who am I to question that plan? It's life, and we all take a gamble with it. I will know why it happened when I meet Him, and then, it won't matter. I'll be with Joel again anyway."
"You think so?"
"I hope so," Lucy said. "I like to think we're all together in the end."
Lance was thoughtful and quiet at this. Then he had a thought. "You think there would be anything bad enough to happen that would make you stop believing?" He was more curious than anything. Lucy shifted, thinking.
"I hope I never find out," she replied. They sat quiet again until Lance decided to bring up what was on his mind.
"I'm worried something happened to Rita," he said.
"Like what?"
"I'm not sure. I think Simon hurt her, but I don't have proof. What should I do?"
"Maybe let her talk to someone?"
"Like a therapist?" Lance clarified.
"Yes. It might give her the space to share things...things maybe she doesn't want to tell you."
"But I'm her father. She can tell me anything..."
"Yes, but she might be scared to or feel ashamed. This way it could help her get it out rather than suppress it to haunt her later."
"I see," Lance said, nodding slowly. "Alright. You got anyone in mind?"
"Tammy Wilson was great with Barb, not that Barb was an easy case nor did she make an effort to let the counselling help her. I can give you her number."
"I'd really appreciate that. Thank you." He tapped his fingers together as his elbows rested on his knees. An owl hooted in the distance.
"Smells like rain," Lucy commented, standing up then. "I should get home and get my granddaughter to bed."
"Sounds like she's still sleeping."
"For now," Lucy said with a grimace. "That girl's got a big set of pipes on her, let me tell you." Lance chuckled.
"Kenny asked you out yet?" he asked, and he could see her blush even in the low light.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Aw, Luce. Come on," Lance teased. "He's clearly crazy about you."
"I'm not into dating."
"Sure."
"I'm not!"
He laughed again. Then he felt bad for laughing. He was in mourning for crying out loud. He sobered up quickly.
"Laughing is crying inside out," Lucy told him. "They're the same release. Don't feel bad."
"Easier said than done."
"I know."
He knew she understood exactly.
...
Rosie stood watching her daughter sleep, and it was all she could do to not reach out and touch her, to pick her up into her arms and hold her tight. She steadied her breathing, listening to the low rumble of Lance's voice outside. Lucy had provided the best distraction without knowing it. She knew Wes was in the backyard having a conniption fit that she was even doing this.
She'd only come to pay her respects to her sister after all.
"My little love," Rosie said softly as she stood over Rita. "You're so lovely and beautiful. I wish I knew you fully and not just snippets of your life. I'm sorry I had to leave. My heart is broken every day I'm away from both of you."
She couldn't help it. She bent to kiss Rita's temple gently.
"I love you," she whispered. "So much."
Her heart almost stopped when Rita's eyes opened and saw her. She stood very still as if that could make her invisible.
"Mummy?" she whispered. The word almost made her burst into tears. She evened her breathing and smiled.
"You're dreaming, little one," she whispered back.
"Oh. I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Daddy misses you too."
"And I him."
"This is the nicest dream I've ever had," Rita said sleepily, her eyes closing again. Rosie felt some tears slide down her cheeks now.
"Me too," she murmured. "Mummy loves you so much, baby."
"Love you too," Rita said back drowsily. Then her breathing was even again. Rosie heard a car door shut then, and she knew Lucy was leaving. She forced herself to stand up straight and take one last, longing look at her daughter. Then she left out the back door. She slipped into the barn to see her beloved horse. Willow nickered softly at the sight of her.
"There's my beauty," Rosie said, smoothing her hand over Willow's snout. "How are you, girl?" Oh how she wished she could go for just one last ride. She knew she couldn't, though. After talking to her for a moment and petting her fondly, she took a step back. Her life here was over, as much as it was hard for her to admit that. Every step away felt like she had a thousand pound weight on each ankle.
"What the hell, Rosie?" Wes hissed when she joined him by the graves. "Are you trying to get caught? I should never have brought you here..."
"Have some faith in me, brother," she retorted. She gave Carol's grave one last look. It was unnerving to see hers beside it. She'd already apologized to her sister for failing her.
"We gotta go," Wes urged.
"Go on then," Rosie said, gesturing. She took one last look at her home.
She didn't think she'd ever be back.
...
Lance felt like something was off when he went inside. He couldn't explain it. Lucy left, and he'd decided to go to bed. As soon as he stepped inside, he felt like his space had somehow been invaded, which was impossible because he'd never left the house.
He eventually went to bed and let his emotions creep up and overtake him. He knew he had a road of recovery to travel down. It was going to be a while before he felt okay again, but at least he had Rita. Without her, he'd be lost.
London, U.K.
Jess couldn't believe how close she'd come to dying. Everything still hurt, so she didn't do much and lay either on the couch or in bed most of the time. Luke doted on her, and she could tell he felt guilty. It wasn't his fault everything had gone to shit. She was just grateful that Zeke hadn't ripped her a new one over it.
She closed her eyes, remembering the first time she'd met Zeke. She'd been scared, but he'd smiled and told her that he would always be there for her. Yes, he was a bit cruel at times, and going against him was a bad idea, but he'd indeed always been there for her.
Then she thought about Brendan. She'd fallen in love with him the day he'd knocked her off the monkey bars at school at age eight. They'd been friends since, but Jess had lost track of him after going into foster care. When she was 19, she saw him again across a bar as he played darts with his buddies and current girlfriend. She'd waited for him to come to his senses about that flake, and when he had two years later, she'd been ready and waiting. They'd been together almost a year when she got pregnant. A few months after Luke was born, she was forced to leave him. Zeke had not been happy about her choice of a man and finally spoke up about it, giving her an ultimatum: she left or he died. Jess had hated him for a while afterwards. She'd loved Brendan and had wanted to marry him, but she also wanted him to live. She knew he'd been hurt and confused, and because of his job, he'd agreed to not see Luke to spare him any confusion as well. Jess had been grateful for that. The problem now was: Brendan wanted to see Luke. She didn't know what to do about that. She knew it was a bad idea, but she also wanted him to see how neat their son was.
"You call that football?! Get your bloody arses moving! You're costing me money!" Johnny shouted from the other room. Jess gave a sigh. He was the other reason she didn't want Brendan coming around. Johnny hated him because he knew Jess would not be with him if she'd been allowed to stay with Brendan. She didn't want Brendan to end up dead from Johnny's jealousy.
"Mum?" Luke said, poking his head in the doorway. "Dad's getting worked up."
"Come on in," she said, patting the space on the bed beside her. He closed the door behind him and came to sit propped next to her. He opened his math book and stuck his chewed pencil back into his mouth.
"What are you working on?" she asked.
"Algebra," he answered.
"Ugh," she groaned. She hated algebra.
"I like it," he commented.
"Good for you. I won't be able to help you much. Your father is the math genius around here," she stated.
"KICK THE BLOODY BALL!" Johnny was roaring now.
"Genius?" Luke asked, looking at her, and she couldn't help but smirk a little.
"Maybe I'm being too generous," she agreed. Her son smirked back and looked down at his work again. It was times like these where she honestly didn't know what she'd do without her son.
...
Simon stood in front of his grandfather and actually felt nervous, which was rare for him. The older man was surveying him with a steely gaze.
"Carol's son you said?" Zeke asked Colter, who nodded.
"That's correct," he confirmed verbally.
"Carol was soft. She didn't fit into the team."
"I can assure you that this boy is far from soft," Colter stated. Simon stayed standing as straight as he could military style. He wanted to be on this team. He wanted to fulfill his blatantly obvious destiny of being an assassin. He didn't dare confess that he'd killed his mother for fear that got him booted out before he even started.
"How old are you?" Zeke asked.
"Thirteen, sir."
"Prime age," Zeke mused, stroking his chin. He looked at Colter again. "You're fine to train him?"
"Yes," Colter advised.
"I think it would be best to keep him as our secret weapon, don't you think?" Zeke was still looking at Colter. Simon felt like there was something unspoken happening between the two men, but he didn't know what that meant.
"I agree," Colter said, nodding again.
"Alright. Take him to the property in Iceland. Full training, and I mean all of it," Zeke said.
"Yes, sir," Colter replied. He turned to face Simon then. "Come on, lad." Simon didn't want to leave yet. He wanted to talk to his grandfather about so many things, but it wasn't looking like he was going to be allowed to. He was steered out by Colter, and when he looked back over his shoulder, he saw his grandfather still watching him, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Montana, U.S.
Rita didn't know what to do. Her father was not getting out of bed. He only got up to eat something small, use the washroom, and feed the animals. She had peeked to see stacks of books on his bedside table that he was apparently sifting through and reading. She wondered if that was contributing to his sadness. A part of her wanted to read them and find out, but she didn't want to make him mad at her. She thought she recognized her step-mother's handwriting on the page that was open, though.
She hadn't told her father about her dream of her mother. She hadn't wanted to make him sad. It had felt so real to her, and the smell of her mother stayed with her long after she had woken up the next day.
Mummy loves you.
The words were so comforting, and she held onto them and played them over in her head on repeat. She wished she could hear them every day from a live version of her mother, but that wasn't going to happen. She had to make do with the dream version.
One afternoon, she went over to see Lucy and the baby. Keira gave Rita so much pleasure. It marveled her that the simplest thing could make the infant laugh and be entertained for hours. She was still feeling sad that Carol was gone, but she had a hard time staying sad all the time. She felt like maybe something was wrong with her for this.
"Hello, sweetie," Lucy said upon seeing Rita coming up the porch steps. Kenny was sitting next to her with Keira in his arms. She wasn't a year yet, but she was getting bigger.
"Hi," Rita said. She went over to stand by Kenny to get a better look at Keira.
"How's your father?" Lucy asked.
"Still sad."
"Poor thing," Lucy lamented.
"Is it bad that I'm not sad all the time like him?" Rita asked, unable to help herself.
"No, dear," Lucy answered. "Sadness comes and goes, just like anger or happiness."
"Oh."
"You wanna hold her?" Kenny asked, gesturing with his head to Keira.
"Yes, please," Rita replied, feeling excited. They had only let her hold Keira a few times when she was smaller. Rita loved it.
"Come over here and sit down," Lucy instructed, and Rita obeyed. "She's getting squirmy, so it's easier to hold her if you're sitting." She demonstrated, and Rita mimicked her. When Kenny handed Keira over to her, she felt like the most important person in the room. She was holding the baby. She had so much responsibility in this moment. It was an incredible feeling.
"You're a natural," Kenny commented, and Rita felt proud. She missed seeing Kenny squeeze Lucy's hand on his way back to his seat. She was too busy looking at Keira, who was smiling back at her.
She just knew she'd do anything for this little girl.
...
Lance felt sick. He was three journals in, and he was finding out a lot about Simon than he'd ever thought he'd discover. How Carol had kept it to herself all this time, he had no idea. He was experiencing a lot of different emotions currently, but one thing was for sure: he did not feel bad for sending Simon away. It made him think about Greg, which is something he didn't do a lot of. Lance felt like Greg's genetics had seeped into Simon, and he shuddered to think what could have happened if Greg was still alive. He had no idea where Simon was now, but he tried to hang onto hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd find someone to help mold him into a better person.
He could only hope.
1989
London, U.K.
Jess was shopping when a hand rested on her shoulder from behind. She whirled, ready to attach, when she saw who it was.
"Brendan!" she gasped. It suddenly hit her how much she'd missed him once she saw his smiling face.
"Jessie," he said back. Only he was ever allowed to call her that.
"Oh my God," Jess said, hugging him tightly. "How are you?"
"I'm well," he answered, hugging her back. Jess could feel so much in that hug. It took her back. When they pulled apart, she wondered how different her life could have been if she'd been allowed to stay with him.
"How are you?" he asked, looking at her fondly.
"I'm okay," she answered. Her heart was beating fast. Her Brendan was standing before her, so handsome and sweet.
"Just okay?" he prompted.
"Life is life," she replied, tossing her hair a little. She knew what he wanted. She'd put it off long enough. He'd given up on asking and just decided to show up apparently.
"How's our son?" he asked next, on cue.
"He's great," she replied.
"He doesn't know about me, does he?"
The question took her off guard, but she realized he would think that since she'd put off having him see Luke for so long. The last time he'd seen him, Luke had been an infant.
"No," she said honestly.
"Why not?"
"I didn't want to confuse him."
"What's really going on, Jessie?" Brendan asked. She looked at him and felt like she could tell him, that he'd understand. Maybe he could even help her escape it all. It was wishful thinking. She knew she'd never get away from who she was.
"Nothing is going on," she said. "It was just easier to let on that Johnny was his father."
"I want to see him."
"And you will. Come over later," Jess offered. "But I'm calling you his uncle for now."
"Fine, but eventually, I'm telling him the truth."
He was looking at her, and she was looking at him. That pull was still there after all this time. When he kissed her, she didn't fight it. She embraced it, holding him tight and wishing she could have him again. It was only when she realized she was standing in a public place that she stopped.
"I'm not sorry," Brendan said, touching her face. "Losing you was the worst thing to ever happen to me. Losing my son was second." He went to kiss her again when she put her hands on his chest to hold him off.
"We can't do this," she reasoned despite every part of her screaming she wanted to. "I'm sorry."
"I'll stop," he promised. "Please...just let me see Luke."
"Okay," she agreed. "Come by around four."
"Thank you."
She gave him her address, and he hugged her one last time before leaving her alone. Jess looked around sheepishly, hoping that no one she knew had seen what had just happened here today.
...
Johnny just knew that Jess still loved Brendan. He was scowling in the corner when the man had come over to see Luke. Johnny knew he didn't deserve Jess, that he treated her terribly because of his demons, but he still hated that most of her heart still belonged to Brendan. He knew that if it wasn't for Zeke, they'd still be together.
"Where is he?" Brendan asked after sitting at the table and being given a beer. Jess sat next to him while Johnny remained in the corner. He'd barely acknowledged Brendan when he came inside.
"Upstairs," Jess answered. "He'll be down soon."
"I hope he didn't inherit my father's whopper of a nose," Brendan said.
"Oh, you mean the Jones Beak?" Jess asked, snickering. This led to them talking about other features about his family that was comical, and Jess was laughing and touching Brendan's arm one too many times for Johnny's liking. He was on the verge of saying something about it when Luke appeared. After introductions were made, Johnny excused himself. He couldn't watch it anymore. They were the perfect little family. Luke even looked like Brendan. Johnny pulled the collar of his jacket up against the wind as he walked. When he got to the bar, he found Colter already there. He hadn't seen much of Colter since he started training the young lad he'd picked up a while ago, which no one was to know about. Johnny was an exception to the rule, but all he knew was that Colter had found this kid somewhere and saw potential, so he'd picked him up. He was in town now for a meeting about a job.
"What's with you?" he asked as Johnny sat down next to him on the stool.
"Nothin'," Johnny replied, gesturing to the bartender for a beer. He had one handed to him in moments. As he swigged it, he looked around and noticed all the young couples having a good time, single women dancing to get attention, and single men giving those women their attention. He grimaced.
"You might wanna tell your wife to watch who she makes out with in public," Colter commented after a moment. Johnny snapped his head towards him.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" he demanded.
"I'm talking about earlier today," Colter replied, giving Johnny a level stare. "I thought my father was pretty clear she wasn't supposed to be with Brendan Jones."
Johnny's stomach clenched. Jess had kissed Brendan. Was she stupid? He felt angry then. Of course she'd do that. She wasn't happy with her marriage to Johnny, and he knew why. Things between them had twisted and changed and gone downhill over the years. He wasn't the same person she'd met, and neither was she.
"I'll deal with it," Johnny promised.
"You're the prettier one," Colter said, clapping his arm now. He knew how Johnny felt about Brendan and thought he needed a confidence boost apparently. Johnny didn't comment. He just sat and drank, letting his anger brew.
...
Rosie wasn't really sure what she was doing. She guessed she just felt it was so wrong to train a child to be a killer from the time they could walk, and as much as Wes had argued that she needed to stay out of it, he'd ended up agreeing to help. She'd watched for too long and wanted to put an end to it. She wanted Luke Wright to get the chance to have a life, and it was pure luck that she'd been in town when his real father had come to visit.
That's why she did what she did next.
"Brendan," she called, running after him through the rain. They were a few blocks from Jess's home now. He turned to face her, looking puzzled. She noticed his one fist curled out of reflex.
"Who wants to know?" he asked.
"Look, you don't know me," Rosie started, "but you need to know something about Jess and Johnny Wright."
"I'm listening," Brendan said.
"They're assassins," Rosie told him, and he openly flinched in surprise. "They're training your son to be a killer. You have to get him out of there. He needs to live a life as a kid...he's not getting any of that."
"Why are you telling me this?" Brendan asked suspiciously.
"Because I don't think it's fair that Luke walks down a path put in front of him without seeing there's something else out there first. I'm trying to end this whole thing, and I don't want him to get hurt in the process."
"End what whole thing?"
"Never you mind," Rosie replied firmly.
"So what do you suggest I do? Kidnap him?"
"Yes. My brother is in Australia. He can help you hide him."
"I can't just whisk him off to Australia," Brendan said. "I have no resources there...no way to even get there."
"Wes will help you," Rosie insisted. "I've told him my plan; he's on standby. As for getting there, do you know of anyone who could help you last minute? Anyone at all?" She watched him think hard, and then he nodded slowly.
"Brigham," he said. "He owes me one."
"Good. Get it organized, and get Luke out of here tonight," Rosie ordered. Brendan surveyed her for a moment.
"You're one too, aren't you?" he asked.
"Not by choice, but I'll be damned if someone else gets their choice taken away from them," she answered simply. "You never saw me. We never had this conversation. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Here's my brother's information," she added, handing him a card. "You can trust Wes with your life."
"It's looking like I might have to," Brendan stated.
"Good luck," Rosie said, turning to walk away. She was hoping that by setting this in motion, Luke would get away from this life. She knew he was a nice boy despite his upraising, and she wanted a better life for him than one of an assassin. If things were different, she'd send him to be with Lance and Rita. She knew Lance would give him a choice and show him that life had more meaning to it than just killing bad people and that Rita would be his best friend and help him grow socially.
But that wasn't in the cards for Luke, and Rosie knew his being with Brendan was the next best thing. She just hoped it would work and they wouldn't get caught.
...
Jess hadn't slept well at all. First, Brendan had made it clear that he wanted to spend more time with Luke, and she'd had to tell him that wasn't possible. He'd left warning that he could get a lawyer and sue for custody. This made her feel scared because she knew Zeke would kill him for sure then when he found out. Second, Johnny came home ranting about her kissing Brendan and got rough with her. Third, her headache wouldn't let up so she could fall asleep, and something made her skin prickle throughout the night that she couldn't explain.
"Get up, Luke," she called, banging her fist against his closed door as she made her way to the kitchen. Johnny was already up and drinking his coffee with the newspaper spread out in front of him. He acted like she wasn't there, which was fine by her. Jess tugged down her sleeve to hide the fresh bruise he'd given her.
"Luke!" she yelled a few minutes later when he didn't come out. "Come on! You're gonna be late for school!"
"It's starting already," Johnny commented without looking at her.
"What is?" she asked, annoyed.
"Laziness."
"Luke is anything but lazy," she retorted. She resisted cuffing the back of his head as she walked past him to Luke's room. "Luke! Baby, come on..." She pushed open the door, and it took a full ten seconds to realize what she was looking at.
An empty room.
"Oh my God," she said. "Johnny!"
"What?" his voice came back, disgruntled.
"He's gone!"
Johnny was there in an instant, pressing next to her in the doorway. He looked just as confused as she felt.
"Where'd he go?" he asked.
"I don't know!"
"He might have gone to his tree house," Johnny reasoned, moving to go check. Jess felt her heart start to relax a little. Luke did go there if they were fighting, which they had been last night. He probably fell asleep out there. All was fine.
When Johnny returned ten minutes later without Luke, though, she started to panic again.
"He ain't there," Johnny said.
"Someone kidnapped him," Jess stated. That had to be it. There was no other explanation.
"Your boyfriend probably," Johnny retorted. Jess went to try and call him, but the hotel said he'd checked out last night. She swore and slammed down the phone. It appeared Johnny was right, and that both angered and scared her.
"What do we do?" she asked, growing more fearful. Zeke would not be happy about this. Johnny looked at her, and she could tell he was a bit worried about that himself.
"I'll find him," he promised. "If that means turning over every rock in this world, I'll do it."
"Thank you," Jess said. He gave a grunt in response. She knew he understood how much Luke meant to her, and even though he was rough and tough and angry most of the time, she knew he cared about Luke to some degree. She went to calm her mind and still her racing heart. She tried not to think about Luke being scared. She put all her focus on the fact that she would be getting him back sooner than later.
Then they could put this all behind them.
Montana, U.S.
Lance looked down at Keira, who was blinking back at him. She was in his arms, and he was having a lot of flashbacks to when Rita was the same age. She was under two years old still, and she was small for her age, but the doctor said she'd catch up in no time. Lucy was worried because she wasn't really talking despite her efforts, and Lance knew that sometimes happened. He had no doubt that Keira would be a chatterbox one day and Lucy would wish she had peace and quiet again.
"She's so cute," Rita stated, reaching to touch Keira's nose with her fingertip gently. Keira smiled back at her.
"She is," Lance agreed.
"Is Mrs. Fields away?"
"She just had some things to do tonight, and I thought it would help her out to give her a break. I figured we could use something different to focus on too." Lucy had a date with Kenny tonight, not that Lance would tell Rita that. He figured those two had danced around each other enough, and he wasn't sure what finally nudged them together in the end, but he hoped it went well for them.
"So what do you do with a toddler?" Rita asked, looking at him now. Lance looked back, feeling relieved inside again that Rita had healed through therapy slowly. He was glad Lucy had recommended it, and even though Rita had been a bit nervous at first, she'd gone to sessions for a while before deciding she was feeling better. It was good to have his daughter back, even if there were times she'd jump at a noise or look like she was thinking about something bad. If Lance could get even with Simon for what he'd done, he would.
"This is pretty much it," Lance answered, eyes twinkling.
"We just look at her?"
"We also feed her, change her, and can talk to her," he added. "Or sing. Or play. Or whatever. She's kind of at our mercy for entertainment for now."
"Can we take her for a walk?"
"Yea, sure," Lance agreed. He stood while Rita went to get the stroller. He pushed it as Rita skipped along beside him sideways and then frontwards. After a while, she wanted to push, so he let her. He smiled down at her as she chattered on about school and Willow and other things. He never tired of listening to her. He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and kept walking. He'd take as many days like this as possible.
He just hoped there were many more to come.
Australia
It was Luke's first night in Australia, which he'd figured out that was where he was after hearing enough people talking in an Australian accent. His uncle had knocked him out with something after he kept getting loose, and he'd woken up here groggy and pissed off. Now, he was lying on his back in his new bed in an unfamiliar room. His entire body was on alert as his ears listened to every single sound. He was waiting for his uncle to go to sleep before making a break for it. He might be in a different country, but he'd still figure out how to get out of there. He was resourceful. He could do it.
After what felt like hours, he carefully slid out from under his blankets and touched his feet to the floor. He was fully dressed, and his bag was ready by the bedroom door. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, tiptoeing out into the hall. He made it outside and hurried to his uncle's truck. He knew how to hotwire a vehicle, so it wouldn't be difficult. He opened the driver side door, chucked his bag across to the passenger seat, and climbed in. He was getting ready to pull out wires when his uncle appeared next to him, shining a flashlight into his face.
"Where you going?" he asked, his voice a bit playful. Luke shot him a glare through his squint in the sudden brightness.
"I'm leaving," he answered.
"It's a long trip home," Brendan said nonchalantly.
"I'm going."
"Look, son," Brendan started.
"I'm not your son!" Luke snarled, and in the glow of the light, he could see something flicker across Brendan's face. He couldn't decipher what it was, but he'd caught it.
"Right," Brendan said. "But you're still my nephew, and I know you think I'm the bad guy here, but I'm trying to help you."
"I don't need your help!" Luke was frustrated. It was the same conversation they had earlier. It wasn't getting him anywhere.
"Look, you're not stealing my truck and driving off into the night," Brendan said, grabbing his arm and hauling him out. Luke kicked his pressure point above his knee, and Brendan yelped and let him go on instinct, which made Luke start to run as fast as he could into the darkness. He heard his uncle swear behind him, and not long after, the truck started. Luke ran and ran, trying his best to get away. He had no idea where he was going or what was out there that he might run into, but he wanted to be as far away from his uncle as possible.
In the end, Brendan drove alongside him slowly as Luke eventually ran out of steam and couldn't keep running. They both stopped as Luke bent over to rest his hands on his knees.
"You done?" Brendan asked through the window.
"No," Luke answered roughly. He started to walk again.
"Alright," Brendan said. "I've had about enough of this for tonight." Luke cried out when the truck door smacked him in the back, knocking him face first to the ground. Brendan grabbed the back of his shirt and pants and lifted him up and shoved him into the truck cab. Luke was too tired to fight him. He fumed slightly at failing to get away. His uncle said nothing as he drove them back to his house. He stayed sitting in the truck when Brendan got out.
"Come on," he ordered. "Get some sleep."
"I'm not tired."
"Just get in the house," Brendan said wearily. When Luke didn't obey, Brendan went around to his side and pulled open the door. He dragged Luke out kicking and struggling and managed to get him back into the house. With a burst of newfound energy, Luke pulled free and went into a rage. Brendan watched calmly as Luke started to throw things and make a mess. After ten minutes, Luke was running out of steam again, and he stopped.
"Can we go to bed now?" Brendan asked. Luke righted a kitchen chair and sat on it, crossing his arms. Brendan sighed. "Alright, but be warned. I was in the SAS, and I've done all nighters before. You don't scare me, kid." He pulled out the stool from the corner and sat down himself.
It turned out to be a long night for both of them.
...
Brendan was feeling a bit weary after the fourth night of this. Luke was still trying to run away, but he was on foot this time, having given up on trying to steal his truck first. Brendan was beginning to think he'd made a big mistake trying to save his son. His friend Brigham had thought it was a good idea when he'd explained what was going on, and so did Wes, who Brendan had met upon landing. He liked Wes. The guy was happy-go-lucky and at ease, even now at this time of night and after being disturbed from sleep.
"Where is he now?" Wes asked, slinging a leg over his four wheeler and cranking it on. Brendan was in his truck idling.
"Headed south."
"Alright."
"He won't have much energy. He's not eating," Brendan added. That was worrying him, that Luke was refusing meals. He knew the kid was sneaking something here and there, but he didn't want to have to take him to the hospital. Maybe that was Luke's plan all along. He was a smart kid.
"Like shooting fish in a barrel then," Wes commented, revving the throttle and taking off. Dirt spewed every which way behind him. Brendan followed. They found Luke walking a few miles later, and the boy stopped and tilted his head back in frustration as they caught up to him. Then he started walking again.
"Where ya headed?" Wes asked almost playfully as he rode alongside him. Brendan was on the opposite side.
"Anywhere but here," Luke answered firmly, staring straight ahead.
"Have you ever stopped to think that your uncle is actually trying to help you?" Wes asked.
"He kidnapped me."
"Out of love. Sometimes we do that."
"I wasn't in a cult, if that's what you're implying," Luke said hotly.
"It kind of is in a sense," Wes disagreed. "Do you even know why you're doing it?"
"Because it's a job, and someone has to do it," Luke replied logically.
"Do you know who operates it? Have you met him?"
Luke stopped walking again, making Wes lurch to a stop as well. Brendan slowed to a stop shortly after.
"Have you?" Luke asked, unable to not sound a little bit curious.
"Yea," Wes answered, "I have. He's a miserable son of a bitch who does nothing but rip lives apart and act all smug about it." Brendan watched as Luke processed this information.
"Oh," he said.
"So you see, we're just trying to give you a better shot at life away from his influence."
"There's nothing wrong with me," Luke insisted. "An assassin is a job. I looked into it. And Uncle Brendan is SAS, so it's close to the same thing, so I don't understand why he's so against it."
"My commander wasn't a psychopath," Brendan scoffed.
"Why don't we go back to your uncle's place and talk about it some more?" Wes suggested. Luke looked almost tempted, but then he shook his head.
"No. I'm going home," he said, starting to walk again. Wes sighed and easily caught up to him, snagging him around the middle with his arm and lifting him up over his lap. The noise of the four wheeler drowned out Luke's shouting as Wes turned them around and headed back to Brendan's current home. Brendan followed, feeling a bit sick inside. He hated that his relationship with his son was starting out this way. He hated that he was too cowardly to tell Luke he was his father. He just didn't want to be hated that much more.
London, U.K.
Johnny met Zeke in his office, and the man was looking at him in a way that made Johnny feel like he should have worn body armor.
"What do you mean, the boy was kidnapped?" Zeke asked when Johnny didn't say anything. "And why am I finding out about it almost a week later?"
"Brendan Jones took him," Johnny answered. "And I was hoping to catch him before he left the country, but I was too late."
"And why was Brendan anywhere near him?"
"I have no idea."
Zeke gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. Then he looked at Johnny seriously again.
"Perhaps I need to have a conversation with Jess," he said. Johnny was pretty sure that wasn't going to end well.
"Look, she couldn't tell Brendan who she is, who we are. When he came sniffing around, she tried to handle it the best she could without giving it all away. He was on his way out of our lives afterwards none the wiser. I have no idea what made him take Luke with him." Johnny held Zeke's gaze, and he held his breath as the older man processed the information. Zeke eventually leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly.
"Fine, but when you find them, one of them has to die. I'll leave it up to you which one."
And there it was. Johnny knew there would be a dire consequence for Jess, and what would be worse than losing her son or her old love?
"I know you can do it," Zeke added, looking at Johnny. "If it really came down to it." Johnny knew what he was implying. He'd killed children before after all.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"Don't screw this up, Johnny," Zeke warned. His elbows were resting on his desk, his fingertips pressed together. "Or you will be very sorry."
"I get it," Johnny said. He walked out of there feeling nauseous still. He had no idea where to even start looking for Brendan, but he knew he couldn't fail.
Because if Zeke was left in charge, Luke was definitely going to be killed, and there was no way Johnny was going to let that happen.
1990
Montana, U.S.
Rita was ignoring her father calling her name as she remained nestled in the hay in Willow's stall. She was telling her friend all about her day, which had been uneventful except for the classroom hamster being set free and everyone chasing it around to catch it.
"I wish I could take you to school for show and tell," Rita lamented, watching Willow chew on hay and stare unblinkingly back at her. "It'd be so cool. I bet I'd make a friend then because you'd make me look awesome to hang around."
"Rita, supper," Lance said, coming into the barn now. She could hear the impatience in his voice.
"I'm not hungry," she replied.
"Bollocks," he retorted. "I've never known you to turn down a decent meal."
"First time for everything."
"Rita, come on," he said, annoyed. She looked at him, still unmoving. She wasn't really sure why she was being defiant right now. She just didn't want to leave Willow yet.
"Ten more minutes," she bartered.
"Five."
"Okay."
Lance shook his head at her and walked out. She got to her feet and dusted off the straw and dirt before going to stand next to Willow and run her hand over the horse's side and neck.
"I wish you could tell me what Mum was like," Rita whispered. "I wish I could have one day with her. I so badly want to know what she was like." Willow just nickered softly, and Rita smiled. She could tell Willow was thinking about her mother too. Rita still thought about the dream she'd had, could still hear her mother's voice. It had felt so real, and that somehow made it hurt that much more.
"See you tomorrow," Rita promised, kissing Willow's snout and reluctantly leaving her. She walked to the house and found her father sitting on the porch steps waiting for her.
"You really are your mother," he commented when Rita stopped in front of him. She felt pride at this.
"Can you tell me the story of how you fell in love again?" she asked, wanting to hear it. She never tired of hearing it.
"Sure," he said with a smile. He groaned and creaked as he stood up and reaching to place his hand on her head to usher her inside.
"You got a flat tire," Rita started for him, and he chuckled.
"Yes, I did," he agreed. "And I was down in the dirt fixing it when along came your mother."
"She said, 'Need a hand?'" Rita interjected.
"Who is telling this story?" Lance asked, lifting a brow at her. She gave him a cheeky smile and picked up her fork to start eating. Lance continued between bites of his own supper. "I told her I didn't need help, but she stuck around to keep me company anyway. I was low on fuel, so she offered me to stay at her farm to wait out the rain."
"Everything that happens in the rain is so romantic," Rita sighed happily. Lance snorted.
"Not everything," he advised.
"Skip to the part where you kissed her," Rita urged.
"You don't want to hear the boring parts of how we talked about cars and animals for three hours straight?" Lance asked.
"Noooooo!" she exclaimed, drawing it out and giggling.
"Well alright," he said. "I hated to leave. I really liked your mother, and your mother seemed to like me back, so I went for it. I just decided that if she slapped me, I'd leave and never see her again, but if she kissed me back, then maybe I could have someone to love forever."
"She kissed you baaack, she kissed you baaack," Rita sang, resting her chin on her hand.
"Very much so," Lance agreed, reaching to tweak her cheek and make her laugh and swat his hand away.
"You wanted to tell her you loved her even though you barely knew her," Rita added next.
"I did."
"I hope I get to have a romantic story like that one day," Rita said.
"Hold your horses," Lance ordered. "No boys until you're at least 16, and maybe not even then."
"That's fine," she said with a shrug. She wasn't in a hurry to like boys, not like how some of the girls at school did. Rita preferred her animals and her books. She didn't have time for boys.
"Eat up," Lance instructed, nudging her plate with his knuckles.
"I'm shoveling as fast as I can," Rita said indignantly, cramming another forkful into her mouth. She chewed dramatically, and he rolled his eyes.
"Miss out on the puppies then," he said, getting up.
"Puppies?!" Rita exclaimed.
"Kenny's dog had a litter. He's already sold them, but he said you can play with them for a bit while he still has them. Hurry up, though."
Rita said no more as she finished eating at record speed. She loved puppies. She wished they could have one, but her father said not right now. She wondered if they'd ever get one.
As she ran behind him to the four wheeler to go over, she felt like nothing could make her happier.
Iceland
Simon was barely breaking a sweat. Colter, on the other hand, was breathing hard and soaked through his t-shirt. Simon resisted mocking him for being old. He didn't want to piss off his trainer after all. They were sparring with each other, and Simon was feeling confident about his performance. He was fifteen now and stronger, bigger. He cracked his knuckles as Colter cracked his neck.
"Colter!" Jean called, making them both turn to look at her rushing towards them on her long legs. Simon knew that Colter was having a fling with Jean. He'd stumbled upon it by accident and watched. He knew that he was not destined to be with a woman when he did not feel anything at all while watching.
"What?" Colter asked, irritated. "I'm working. I told you not to interrupt me when I'm working."
"I'm sorry," Jean said, stopping a few feet away. The wind blew at her dark hair, and her blue eyes flashed. "But it's your father. He said whatever the hell you were doing was not more important than what he has to say to you."
Colter let loose a rough exhale and broke his stance.
"Stay put," he told Simon, leaving the fight circle and heading towards the house. Simon sized up Jean, who hadn't followed. She turned her head to look at Simon, and he gave her his best intimidating stare. He could tell by her eyes that she was unnerved and scared of him. She left not long after, going to do whatever it was she did all day. He doubted it involved much sun since she was paler than a ghost almost. Simon paced the circle, waiting. When Colter came back, he was impatient to get back to fighting.
"Go pack," Colter said, making Simon feel puzzled.
"Pack?" he echoed.
"Are you stupid? Yes, pack," Colter snapped. "We're going on a job."
"Y-You think I'm ready?" Simon hated that he'd stuttered.
"I don't, but Zeke does, and we don't argue with him," Colter replied, sounding angry. "Come on, move it." Simon hustled to his room, grabbing his bag and throwing gear into it. He was excited. He was going on his first mission. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He was finally putting his fake persona to use. Alex Rosen. It hadn't been hard to get rid of the mild British accent he had from listening to his mother and Lance all the time. He'd put all his focus on how his father's voice had sounded, and it was easy to mimic it more and more as time went on. He shouldered his bag and gave himself one last look in the mirror. He agreed with Zeke.
He was ready.
Australia
Luke sat on the back step of his uncle's house and watched as Brendan fought and struggled against the wind to hang up his bed sheets. It was amusing to Luke, and he contemplated going to assist him, but he was feeling aggravated with Brendan today, so he stayed put. It was a year since he'd been taken away from his mother. He hadn't been able to escape, but between Brendan and Wes, Luke found himself unable to ignore what they had to offer him. He felt conflicted inside most of the time, but there were times he could feel calm and relaxed. He was starting to think that maybe they were right after all, not that he'd ever admit that to them.
"Son of a bitch," Brendan was saying in Russian as the sheet wrapped itself around his head somehow. "Come on!" Luke smirked. His uncle was teaching him Russian, which Luke found fascinating. His mother and Johnny hadn't introduced him to any new languages, so this was a bonus. Brendan would spend an entire day speaking nothing but Russian to make Luke learn it and use it.
"What's all the yelling about over here?" Wes asked in English, appearing from around the side of the house.
"Uncle is fighting the elements," Luke answered in Russian. Wes looked to see Brendan trying to pin the sheet up with it pressed against his face so he couldn't see.
"Go help," Wes instructed in Russian while cuffing Luke slightly, and Luke slid off the step and went over to grab the end of the sheet to hold it back.
"Thank you," Brendan said, still in Russian. Once finished, Luke retreated and watched the two men conversing. Luke wasn't sure who Wes was. He had no last name that he'd offered, and Brendan hadn't seemed to know him before they arrived. It made Luke wonder who else was involved in his kidnapping. The sound of loud talking and laughter made his attention turn towards the road where the neighbor boys, Randy and Pete, were making their way towards the house.
"Slow down!" Pete was calling while Randy laughed and sped ahead. Luke went to go greet them. He'd never had friends before, and he was wary of these two more often than not, but they did have some good adventures. Randy was his age while Pete was three years younger than him. Once Luke had stopped trying to run away, Brendan had introduced them after discovering they were close by.
"Not my fault you can't keep up!" Randy called back. He skidded to a stop in front of Luke, spraying dirt and gravel everywhere. "Hey."
"Hey," Luke said back.
"You ready to check out that creek?"
"Yea. Be right back." Luke went to get his bike. He signaled to Brendan he was leaving, and his uncle nodded back. There was some trust now between them. Luke had already figured out he couldn't make it to town on his bike anyway, and if he did, where would he go?
"Let me go first," Pete was saying when he got back. "I don't like chasing you guys."
"Then hurry up!" Randy exclaimed, giving Pete's back tire a swift kick. Pete set off, and Randy counted to twenty before tearing off after him with Luke on his heels.
...
Rosie found Wes at the bar in the evening, and she waited for him to notice her and come join her.
"What're you doing here?" he asked, sliding into the seat across from her.
"Can't I just check in?" she countered.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"You weren't followed here were you?"
"No. I'm not being watched lately. It's kind of nice."
"That means something is going on," Wes reasoned. He thanked the waitress for his beer when she set it on the table for him. Rosie just nodded at her. When they were alone again, she leaned forward.
"Rumor has it that Colter has a protégé," she said.
"That doesn't surprise me."
"I don't know their name."
"Neither do I."
Rosie felt anxious inside. She wanted to end this entire operation, but the timing wasn't right. Wes was on board to help her, but he was lying low for now and only checking in as needed. If Zeke found out he was harboring Brendan and Luke, Rosie was pretty sure it wouldn't matter that Wes was his favorite son...Zeke would kill him.
"All in good time, little sister," Wes said, reaching to pat her hand fondly. "Just be patient."
"It's hard. I want to end this now so I can go back to Rita."
"Is that a wise thing to do?" Wes asked. "After all this time?"
"Why not? I think once I explain everything, she'll understand."
"Maybe, but will she forgive you?"
Rosie felt the words cut through her, and she hesitated. Would Rita forgive her? It was quite the lie she had to come back from. She didn't think she could handle having her daughter hate her forever if she couldn't forgive her.
"Don't ruin this for me," she said, feeling deflated regardless.
"Sorry, luv. I'm just being realistic is all," Wes said, nudging her foot with his under the table. "Maybe it'll be a great reunion. I can't see into the future. Just go with your gut, I guess." She didn't say anything else as she watched the people in the bar interact with each other. She craved normalcy. She'd had it for almost eight years, and she wanted it back.
"How is he doing?" she asked, referring to Luke.
"Restless, but he seems to have accepted his life is here now," Wes replied.
"Johnny is looking for him," Rosie said next.
"I bet."
"How long do you think before our father needs you to work more?" she asked.
"I anticipate it'll be soon. I've been laying low long enough."
"Will Brendan be okay here on his own?"
"He'll be fine. He's SAS after all. He doesn't need me to help anymore. I think it's more the companionship he appreciates, but he'll get over that quickly enough if I'm gone."
"Thank you for doing this," Rosie said after a moment. "I know it was a risk."
"He's worth it," Wes said. "Luke will be a fine young man someday. I think he would have been regardless. He has something about him that's unique and helps him be a good kid. Mind boggling, really, but I suppose there are hidden gems in the muck aren't there?"
Rosie didn't know what else to say, so she kept quiet. She listened to her brother talk about this and that, and she got lost in her thoughts about Rita and Lance and what life would be like if everything had been different.
It just made her hurt inside that much more.
1991
London, U.K.
Jess lurched forward when Johnny flung open the door and announced that he'd found Brendan and Luke.
"Where?!" she exclaimed.
"Australia," he answered. "I finally found him."
"When are you leaving?"
"Tonight," Johnny answered, going to grab his bags. "It'll be all over soon."
"How did you find him?" Jess asked. She felt scared for Brendan, but she hoped that Johnny would just take Luke back and leave it at that.
"A friend of mine recognized him in town there," Johnny answered. "It took your boyfriend two years, but he finally made a misstep."
"Don't hurt him," Jess blurted, and Johnny stopped what he was doing for a moment to look at her. Something in his eyes told her he was going to, but she hoped that her plea would make him reconsider.
"I do what I'm told, Jess," he said finally, slinging one bag over his shoulder and grabbing his keys. Then he was gone. Jess was left standing there alone, and she slowly sank into a chair and began to tremble.
Then she burst into tears, pressing her hands into her face as she sobbed.
Montana, U.S.
"Ria, Ria, Ria!" Keira called, and Rita stopped shoveling manure and turned to see the four year old come rushing into the barn. She hadn't been able to say "Rita," so "Ria" was born. It appeared to have stuck so far.
"What're you doing?" Rita asked when Keira skidded to a stop next to her.
"Come play with me!"
"I have to finish this first," Rita answered, gesturing to the manure. Keira wrinkled her nose in disgust and then pinched it with her fingers.
"Yucky," she said.
"It is," Rita agreed. "Go play with Norma for a bit. I'll be done soon." The goat was acting strange lately, and Rita was scared she was sick. She thought if she pretended everything was okay, then it would be. She knew that wasn't realistic, though.
"Okay," Keira said reluctantly, leaving to run and find the goat. Rita was sweating as she worked. Her thoughts were also wandering to different things. She still didn't have a best friend, and while she told her father she was fine, she really felt lonely. She didn't want to worry him, so she kept it to herself. It hurt, though, to watch the other kids at school play together while she sat alone with her book. It wasn't like she hadn't tried to make friends. No one was interested in her, and they called her a nerd for reading so much. Rita just liked to learn things and get lost in other people's stories. She didn't see the harm in that. She did get envious, though, when she read about the friendships the characters of her books had. She wanted someone to just appear from nowhere and become her best friend, but she knew that only happened in stories, clearly. She also got jealous if the character had a mother and was close to her. She got frustrated when a character hated their mother. Didn't they know how special it was to have one?
Her eyes blurred as she shoveled. She sometimes thought it was her fault that her mother had died. When she'd told her father this once after he found her sobbing, he'd become alarmed and told her very strongly that it wasn't her fault. Rita disagreed, though. Her birth had killed her mother. If her mother hadn't been doing that, she would have lived. Rita was convinced of this, but she let her father believe she didn't have that irrational thought anymore. It was just hers and hers alone. Sometimes, she wondered how she could miss someone she'd never met so much, but it was true. She missed her mother.
When she finished her chore and wiped the tears off her face, she went to find Keira to distract herself for a while.
Australia
Luke was on his back outside in the dark listening to all the night sounds. The stars above were bright. He heard Brendan come out eventually and sit down next to him before falling onto his back too.
"Good day with the boys?" he asked.
"Yea," Luke answered. He felt like he could maybe get closer to them if he stayed there long enough. The longer he was there, the more he kept thinking that Brendan was his father. He couldn't explain it; it was just a feeling he had.
"You got good grades in math and science," Brendan said next. "English...not so good."
"I hate English," Luke muttered.
"Some of that literature is important to read, though," Brendan insisted. "Maybe one day it'll be interesting to you."
"I doubt it."
"I think I might have a book you'll enjoy," Brendan said thoughtfully. He didn't offer anymore, so Luke let it go. Reading was okay, but it wasn't his forte. He enjoyed playing the guitar. When Brendan had first taught him that, his fingers had hurt and he felt like he wasn't getting it, but then it just suddenly flowed. He liked playing and learning different songs. As much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying being here more often than not.
"I really hope you have a good life," Brendan said out of the blue, making Luke turn his head to look at him. "I do. I hope you meet someone and fall in love. I hope you get married and have kids. I hope you have a career that you're proud of and won't put you in danger every day. I hope you experience life and all its beauty."
Luke didn't know what to say to that, but he suspected Brendan wasn't looking for a response anyway. He felt Brendan put his hand on his shoulder and give it a shake and a squeeze before sitting up.
"Don't stay up too late," he instructed, going inside. Luke tucked a hand under his head as he looked back up at the sky.
When he finally went inside, he found a copy of Watership Down on his bed. The note inside read: Luke: I hope this makes you like reading a bit better. It's my favorite. My father gave this to me, and now I'm giving it to you. You're one hell of a kid, and I love you. Brendan.
Luke felt a shift inside, and he felt like this confirmed his theory, that Brendan was his father. Why else would he give Luke a book that his father had given to him? He sat down on the edge of the bed with the book in his hands, wondering if he should confront Brendan about his theory. He wasn't sure what that would mean for him if it was true. It made him wonder why his mother had lied.
It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.
36 hours later
Johnny was exhausted. He was on edge. He was anxious. When he approached Brendan in his garage after sneaking in the driveway, he felt like he was going to throw up. He reached to put a hand on Brendan's shoulder, and the man whipped around to throw him off. Johnny held his own and aimed his gun at Brendan's face.
"At ease," he ordered.
"How did you find me?" Brendan demanded.
"I have sources," Johnny answered. "You can't have possibly thought this would last forever did you?"
"What are you gonna do?" Brendan asked. Johnny could see a little bit of fear in his eyes, but it was tiny.
"I've been given two options," Johnny replied. "I think you can guess what they are."
"Kill me or Luke, right?"
"Right."
Brendan nodded slowly, taking it in. He exhaled and ran a hand over his head. He closed his eyes briefly.
"Take me," he said. "Luke deserves to live."
"At least we're on the same page," Johnny reasoned. "Put up some kind of fight, though, or else I'll get in shit for telling you the deal."
"Alright." Brendan reached under his shirt and pulled out his dog tags then, handing them to Johnny. "Can you please give this to him?"
"Yea," Johnny said with a grunt. He took it and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he gestured with his gun, and Brendan stepped out of the garage. He spun and smacked the gun out of Johnny's hand then, and the other men Johnny had brought with him launched themselves onto Brendan in return. Shouting ensued. The driver brought the SUV up to the house now, ready for Luke to be loaded into it. Another man went to get the boy. Johnny hated that Luke was going to watch his father die, that he was going to watch Johnny do it himself. After Brendan got shot down, he stood above him. If he didn't have others there watching to confirm the kill, he would have faked it, but as it was, he couldn't.
"We got the boy." The voice came through his earpiece.
"Take him to the car," Johnny said back. He kicked Brendan onto his back, and Brendan looked up at him, no fear in his eyes now. Johnny aimed his gun at him.
"Uncle Brendan!" Luke shouted, and Johnny let Brendan turn his head to say his last words.
"Don't ever forget about me or what you learned here," Brendan said to Luke.
"I won't," Luke said back, tears in his voice. He was clutching a book against his chest and still fighting to free himself.
Brendan looked back at Johnny before giving a very slight nod and closing his eyes. Johnny's hand was shaking as he unloaded his gun into the man's chest. He was struggling to breathe as Luke's screams ripped through him.
...
Luke refused to speak as he was taken away. The only thing he still had was his father's book, and he wasn't letting that go for anything. He couldn't look at Johnny, who had gone to throw up in the plane's bathroom more than once. He didn't know what that meant, but he didn't care. Johnny had killed his father.
The other men made small talk with each other, but Johnny didn't join in. Luke stared out the plane window and tried not to picture Brendan getting shot to death. It was very difficult not to, though.
When they got home finally, Luke could hardly focus on his mother. He just wanted to be left alone. At some point in the night, he awoke to something, but there was no one in his room. He caught something shining in the moonlight on his nightstand, though, and he propped himself up to reach and grab it. He knew what it was as soon as he touched it, and it almost made him cry. He slid it over his head and let it rest on his chest, curling his fingers around it. It was beyond him as to why Johnny would give these to him after what he did, but he didn't care.
He'd keep his father's dog tags close to his heart for the rest of his life.
...
Jess hid herself in the bedroom to cry after Luke went to bed that night. He'd figured out Brendan was his father. She had hoped he wouldn't, but it appeared Brendan had kept his word and hadn't told him voluntarily. She stopped when Johnny came into the room. He didn't say anything to her, but she could tell he was fighting a bunch of different emotions. Maybe to the world he looked like a stone cold killer, but she saw this side of him afterwards, the side that showed he struggled with killing people more than he let on.
"I'm sorry," he said to her, his voice hoarse. He took his pillow and the afghan and went to sleep on the couch. Jess hugged herself and started to cry again. She knew it was her punishment for letting Brendan see Luke, but it was harsh all the same.
It was times like these where she hated Zeke and wanted him to die.
Iceland
Simon finished unloading his gun at the target and removed his safety glasses to get a better look at it. He was an assassin now, and it felt very, very good. Soon, he'd be doing solo missions, which made him feel excited. He loved how proud Zeke was of him. He'd gotten to spend some time with his grandfather in the last while, and he'd learned things about his family and the way the agency was run. He hoped to take it over someday.
Then he'd go find Lance and Rita and finish the job the way he wanted to.
He smiled and put his glasses back on, reloading and getting ready to fire again. Nothing could stop him now.