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“Dr. Bale didn’t tell anyone about the tracker,” I tell Alexander.
“I know that,” he says, his hand leaving grooves in his hair from swiping his fingers through it. “But what makesyouso sure?”
“What I’m using against him. He wouldn’t have taken the chance that I’d use that information. He’d protect it at all costs. Even offering his own life.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters. “What do you have against him?”
“That’s between me and him.”
He doesn’t like my answer, but he respects it by giving me a tight nod.
A sharp gasp comes from behind me, causing Alexander and I to whip around. A petite woman with long blonde hair stands in the doorway. She’s looking at me, her eyes wide and filled with horror and fear. Even from across the room, I can see her wholebody shaking. I narrow my eyes; something about her seems familiar. I didn’t sense that familiarity the night Bishop and I rescued her, because she was out when I made it to them. This odd feeling is coming from her eyes.
“No,” she whispers, lifting her hand to her mouth. “It can’t be.”
Her stare leaves mine long enough to skip all over the room, as if she’s searching for something. Then she’s darting across the floor, and she picks up the fire poker from in front of the fireplace. She holds it up in front of her in a defensive mood.
“H-how did you find us?” she stammers.
“Lili?” Bishop calls, approaching the woman slowly. “What’s going on?”
She lifts a shaky hand and points her finger at me. “That’s Grant.”
I look from the woman, Lili, to Bishop, then over to Alexander, before going back to Lili. Curiosity has me taking a step toward her, but I stop when she holds the fire poker up higher.
“Who’s Grant?” I ask no particular person.
It’s Bishop who answers, his voice a grated growl. “The bastard who abused her since she was a small child.”
“And you think I’m this man?”
She doesn’t say anything at first. Just holds the fire poker in a tight grip, her troubled eyes never leaving mine. I don’t have time for this, but I wait her out, some internal voice telling me this might be important. Besides, she was the last person, other than Beatrice, who saw Savina. Maybe she’ll have something that’ll help.
“You look just like him,” she says eventually, a wrinkle forming between her brows. “Except… you look younger and Grant doesn’t have tattoos. Who are you?”
“Ryker West, Savina’s husband. I believe you were at my home right before Savina was taken.”
She gasps. “She was taken?”
“Yes,” I force out between my teeth. “It must have happened right after you left.”
“Oh, God.” She drops the poker to the floor, and it lands with a dull thunk. “You’re him,” she continues in a whisper.
“Who, Lili?” Bishop asks. He comes up beside the woman and turns her to face him, but she still doesn’t look away from me. It’s not until Bishop calls her name more sternly that she gives him her attention.
“Grant used to talk about his younger brother. He hated him. No.” She shakes her head. “Hate isn’t a strong enough word. He abhorred him. He used to boast how one day he would be given the chance to kill him. He never said why, and I never asked.”
I interrupt her. “I know what you’re insinuating, but my brother died over twenty-two years ago.”
She looks at me. “I’m sorry to say, but you have to be wrong because you’re both the spitting image of each other. And besides, I’m not surprised you think he’s dead. He always said he was a ghost to you. The way he said it made me believe that his family thought he died.”
My blood runs cold at the implication. At the possibility that my older brother has been alive this whole time. I was never told directly that my brother was murdered, but I overheard my father and mother discussing it one night several weeks after he disappeared. During that conversation, my father told my mother that his body was found at the bottom of the sound that separates the mainland and Hollow’s Reef. His body was nearly unrecognizable, but the DNA results came back as Aiden. I didn’t understand half of that conversation because I was so young, but I understood the part where my brother died and my mother was hysterical with grief.
Did my father lie, or did he truly believe that Aiden died? My parents loved both of us, and they showed it all of the time. Aiden and I were happy kids and had a charmed life. My father was strict, but in a way that was healthy. Mom was the softer one of our parents.
When I got older, after my father disappeared, I started digging for information about what happened to my brother, but I never found anything. My father wouldn’t have let the kidnapping and murder go. He would have used every resource open to him to find out who took him and what happened afterward. There wasn’t a single fucking shred of evidence of my father’s research. Not a goddamn thing. That just made me hate him more because it seemed like he didn’t look into it.
I focus back on Liliana, and again a niggling feeling tickles the back of my neck. I ignore it for now. “I need to know everything about Grant and your family. Anything you can give me.”