April 20, 2022
I rolled over and turned off the alarm I had set on my phone. I called it my phone, but it was actually in Clair's name. She was the one paying the bill on it. Just as she was everyone else's. Even Jack's. Apparently Abstergo paid very well, and she had no qualms about using their resources to help the Assassins. I still thought it was odd the way she was bankrolling her ex.
But I kept my opinion to myself.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I attempted to wake Connor. He looked so cute and peaceful that I hated to disturb his slumber. But we had things to do and Jack demanded an early start. I'm not sure why. We still had to wait on Pete to arrive with breakfast before starting the day. He never got to the compound before nine.
Yet another opinion I kept to myself.
I leaned down and kissed Connor gently on the cheek. He didn't move. He had always been a heavy sleeper. That had not changed. Although, I had noticed a few times lately the he was awake before me. That was very uncommon.
"Baby," I whispered in his ear. "It's time to get up."
He made a noise that let me know he wasn't fully asleep, but did not open his eyes.
"Ratonhnhake:ton," I said a little louder. "Satketsko."
That got a response of "Iah."
I straightened, crossed my arms over my chest. "Get your lazy ass out of bed, Connor."
He opened his eyes and looked up at me with a half glare. He muttered something in Kanien'keha that I guessed was a retort, but didn't understand.
"What was that?"
Connor sat up, looked at me with a smile. "You're mean, aonha."
"You are," I replied, enunciating the lack of contraction I was using, "not so nice yourself sometimes."
Connor chuckled. He had a nice laugh. I had always liked it. "Then why did you marry me?"
The fact that he was not dressed at that moment provoked my answer. "You're cute."
Connor had always slept naked. At least, he had until Abby got old enough to start crawling into bed with us. It was a practice he had adopted again after we no longer had a child to disturb us at night. As well as one I liked very much.
After putting on pants, Connor gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and went to the bathroom while I made my way to the second level. Desmond was sitting at the table drinking coffee. Jack was leaning against the counter doing the same. My father was the only one who looked at me as I entered the room.
"We need to talk," he said.
I let out a loud breath. I didn't want to have to deal with anything right now. Not from Jack. I just wanted to complete my day, go about my business and pretend he and I had nothing in common. It had worked for the last week. I intended to keep up the pattern.
"I just woke up," I told him.
"Your ears still work," he returned.
Without waiting for another rejection, Jack headed toward the office. He paused at the door, waiting for me to follow him. Connor had insisted that I try to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. As much as I didn't want to do it, I followed for my husband's sake. I wasn't sure why Connor was so concerned about my relationship with my father. I had never really cared about his relationship with his father. Haytham had not deserved parental affection or respect. I maintained the opinion that Jack didn't either.
Once we were alone, Jack gestured to the office chair in front of the desk. I remained standing, waiting for him to get to his point so that I could leave.
"I owe you an explanation, Faith."
His words made me frown. "You don't owe me an explanation," I told him. "You owe me an apology."
The scoff he emitted only fed my ire. This was a topic I did not want to discuss at all. I didn't want to listen as he explained to me why he had done the things he had. I really didn't care about his reasons. I had accepted that he was my father, but I had no intention of forging a bond with him over just that one detail. I still didn't like him as a person.
"I'm not going to issue you an apology simply because you think I should."
"Then there's nothing to say."
I started to leave. Jack blocked my path to the door. "Will you just let me talk? Please?"
I was going to tell him that he could talk all he wanted, but I wasn't going to listen. However, his use of the word please made me curious. I had never heard him be so polite before. Ever. This must have been very important to him. I begrudgingly stayed quiet and let him speak.
"Much like yours, my father was a bastard." I silently conceded that, and waited for him to continue. "Due to the life we were forced to live because of our affiliations, he had certain...expectations. He was never easy on me. That was all I had ever known. And that was why I tried to raise you the way I did. It was the only way I knew for a father to be."
"Wow. That must have been really hard for you. Thanks for sharing."
Jack's expression hardened at my sarcasm. "Can you lose the fucking attitude?"
Given that he lectured Pete on his language constantly but cursed himself led me to speak again. "You should practice what you preach."
A low noise rumbled in his throat. It was one I had heard daily during the short time he had custody of me. Knowing it was a consequence of my back talk did not make me want to correct the behavior. Then or now.
"Do you know what your problem is?" he mused angrily.
"I know you're gonna tell me."
"You're too much like your damned father."
His explanation was so unexpected I had no idea how to respond to it. I tried to come up with a quick-witted comeback, but nothing spring to mind. I had the idea I should be insulted, but all I felt was shock and confusion. I didn't want to admit that I was anything like him. He was cruel and stubborn and inconsiderate. I wasn't like that at all.
Jack grinned at the insecurity I displayed. "It's okay for you to be pissed about that. Being like me is not a good thing."
He gestured once again to the chair. I sat down while he leaned against the desk. He didn't talk for a moment, just stood there looking like he wasn't sure how to say what he wanted to say. "I've made many poor decisions in my life, Faith. Leaving you was by far the worst."
"It's fine," I told him. "I'm not mad because you left. In fact, I'm glad you did. Don't beat yourself up over that. You did me a favor."
Jack winced as if I had struck him. It was strange to see him so upset. I had never seen him show any sort of emotion other than anger. I didn't think he knew how to show anything else.
"Faith…"
When he spoke my name, it wasn't in an irritated or exasperated way. It was with the same tone Achilles used when he thought I was being unfair. It was partly the memory of the old man that made me feel bad for saying what I did. But I didn't know how to take it back. So, I just left it out there.
"Honestly, if you hadn't given me this tattoo, I wouldn't have had the relationship I did with Achilles or Connor. I guess I should thank you for that."
Jack nodded forlornly. "It's nice to know I could contribute to your life in a positive way. Even if it was done for the wrong reason."
I began to get up, intending to leave. Jack held up a hand. "Can I ask you one question before our conversation is over?" I shrugged, so he continued. "Did you really enjoy your time at Saint Agnes'?"
I shrugged again. "It wasn't so bad. Did you have anything to do with my admission there?"
Jack shook his head. That Catholic school had been expensive. I had known that when I got in. All the headmaster told me was that they had a wealthy donor who sponsored my attendance. I didn't question it at the time. I was just happy not to be in a home with a bunch of other angsty kids or adults who only cared about the money they got for keeping me. I hadn't really thought Jack would have the means to pay for one semester at the school, let alone two years. But I had to ask.
"The girl's academy was your grandmother's idea."
"What grandmother?"
"My mother. Josephine. I didn't want you forced to participate in such an inane religious concept, but when I was gone…" Jack paused. He looked off in the distance at something that wasn't there. Remembering whatever had led him to give me up after such a short time. Then he looked at me again. "That was her way of saying she loved you. Even if she didn't approve of you being born out of wedlock, she did try to make sure you were taken care of."
That did surprise me. I had never given thought to my grandparents before. There had been one elderly lady I lived with for a year before my time with Jack that I equated to a grandmother, but that was the extent of my familial thinking. Even after learning he was my father, I had never considered Jack's parents.
Her name also caught my attention. "Did you name me after her?"
"Yes. That was my attempt to make up for being such a disappointment to her. Not that it mattered. She was a hard woman. I'm glad you never knew her."
I understood why he felt that way, but I didn't share the sentiment. Even if she hated me, I would like to have at least met my paternal grandmother. It was a childish notion. One I thought I would have outgrown, but hadn't. I suddenly knew why Connor was so insistent on me talking to Jack. I may not like him, but he was my father. Part of me was glad I finally knew the truth.
"Thanks," I muttered sincerly.
Before I could make it to the door, Jack said my name again. I turned to him. He was holding a thick binder in his hands, offering it to me. "I want you to read this."
I took it, asking what it was.
"It's Clipper's journal. I thought you might like to know what he said about you."
"Clipper wrote about me?"
Jack nodded. "Connor's already read it. I think you should as well. After all, you have as much right to know the history of the Assassins as anyone else here. This is the life you were born into. Oath or not, you are an Assassin."
I nodded, thanked him again and left the room. I had no idea what I was feeling after that conversation with my father. I just knew it wasn't anger.