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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

SYDNEY

M y dream drifts away, and I become aware of hushed voices. Blake and Roman. My back is to them, so I keep still, dozing, and listen as they talk.

“What the hell did you do to her? She’s almost comatose,” Blake says with a laugh. “I assume you’re feeling better now, less of an arsehole?”

“Excuse the pun, huh? And to answer your question, yes, I’m feeling fucking chilled as fuck right now, so I hope you aren’t going to sour my mood.”

Roman knows, just as I do, that Blake is about to do exactly that.

Someone sighs, Blake, I think, then the beds dips as he sits. “I went to see Oz. And before you ask, he’s still working on a trace from the call to Syd’s mobile. But he’s been busy.” There’s a pause, and I sense fingertips hovering just above my skin a second before they touch. Blake runs his hand the length of my leg, and I have to fight hard not to give myself away.

“Okay, so what’s he got?”

There’s movement and rustling of clothes, then the mattress lifts before dipping down again. Silence follows and I assume Roman is looking at something Blake has given him.

“Jesus fucking Christ. He’s been following them around the fucking country.”

Another silent pause, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up.

“Breathe, Sydney, before you fucking pass out from lack of oxygen,” Roman says.

I roll my eyes then spin to face them both. “Thank fu—goodness for that,” I say, sitting up a little.

“I think the phrase you were going for is ‘thank fuck’. No need to be shy after you begged me to fuck you little more than an hour ago.”

Blake groans and adjusts his dick inside his jeans. “Do you mind? Some of us missed out and have blue balls right now.”

“Aww, poor baby,” I tease, shocked at how easy it is to be me around these two men. But more sex will have to wait. “Seriously though, what is this about being followed?”

Blake explains to Roman and me everything Oz told him, revealing that while Pa has been thinking he’s the one chasing JC, it’s actually been the other way around. Everywhere we’ve lived, he’s been there too. Picking his victims, watching us and taunting my pa with the possibility of saving these girls.

“We need to speak with Pa,” I state, climbing from the bed. I tell Roman and Blake I’ll meet them outside before nipping to the bathroom. I use the toilet, then look at myself in the mirror as I wash my hands. I look like I just got out of bed, which, if you think about it, I have. I splash some water on my face, run my fingers through my hair and try to look less like I just got screwed until I practically passed out. I spot a small mark on my neck and tilt my head to get a better look.

“Damn it!” I mutter when I realise it’s a love bite. I don’t even remember Roman doing that. I drag my hair over my shoulder, covering it—barely—then dress before heading out. I’m not ready to have a conversation with Pa about my relationship with any man, let alone two. And if it does come up, I promise myself to be open and firm, to stand by my decisions, my choices. Pa hasn’t really got a leg to stand on telling me how to live my life.

I sit in the back as we drive to the hospital, thinking about how we are meant to catch this guy when I don’t even know what he looks like. My thoughts turn to what happens when we do. Based on my conversation with Blake and Roman about what they do for a living, which I still need to find out more about, I have a feeling that taking JC to the cops won’t be on the list of outcomes.

I have no clue how I feel about them killing this man if they catch him. The bible states an ‘eye for an eye’, but realistically, I’m not sure if I’m happy with that. But while it doesn’t necessarily sit well with me, I can see why Roman would want his revenge. Isn’t that why he and Blake came here in the first place, to exact their revenge on my pa.

“Syd, you okay?”

Blake’s voice snaps me out of my own head, and I look up to see him watching me over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“I know my cock is difficult to forget…” I swat him on the shoulder as he laughs.

We park up and head inside, but when we arrive at the room Pa was in, it’s empty.

“Where is he?” I ask out loud and catch a passing nurse. “Excuse me, where is the man who was in this room, Reverend Amos Kincaid?”

She looks at me then Roman and Blake before settling back on me. “Who are you? Family?”

“Yes, I’m his daughter,” I say, fighting the anxiety over her answer.

She frowns, as if she’s not sure to believe that or not. “He discharged himself early this morning.”

“And you just let him walk out of here?”

She scowls at the accusation in my words. “No, Miss Kincaid, it was against doctors’ orders. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients that need me.” She strides off down the corridor, leaving me wondering where the hell Pa went.

“You reckon he’s gone home?” Blake asks.

“Maybe.” But something tells me he won’t be there.

“Let’s go and find him,” Blake says, and I watch as he and Roman share a look. A look that says they think the same as me.

The guys turn to leave, but I enter the room, scanning the empty bed and thanking the lord the room is empty because Pa stupidly discharged himself and not for another reason. Shoving the thought aside, I go the small cabinet beside the bed and open it. It’s empty. I search the rest of the room, but there isn’t a trace of Pa here, or that he was ever here.

“He took all his things,” I say out aloud but more to myself than anyone else.

“Come on, Syd, I’m sure he’s at home,” Blake encourages, coming over and placing a hand on my lower back to guide me from the room.

It’s nearly dark by the time we pull up outside Pa’s house, and without entering I know he’s not here. There are no lights on and no movement inside.

But I go through the motions; retrieving the key from under the porch mat, unlocking the front door and go inside. It’s cold and empty. Nobody is here.

I head for the kitchen, switching on lights as I go in case he left a note. “Pa,” I call even though I know it’s pointless.

“Is there somewhere else he would go?” Roman asks as he steps up behind me.

I shake my head. “No, the only other place is the church, but why would he go back to the place he was…” My words trail off as the answer materialises the same time as Roman speaks.

“Because he’s looking for something or someone.”

I race from the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Sydney, what are you doing?” Roman says following behind. He catches up with me as I reach Pa’s bedroom, grabbing my arm and pulling me back before I can open the door. “Wait,” he orders.

I step back, rolling my eyes and shaking my head, because as if there is going to be someone hiding in there.

Roman opens the door slowly, and a sliver of light from the hall grows bigger as the door opens. While the room is cast in shadow, it’s clear there’s nobody there.

“All safe, officer,” I joke, pushing past him and flicking the light switch as I enter. I immediately open the wardrobe, shoving the hanging clothes to the far end and revealing a small safe in the back wall.

“Do you know the code,” Roman asks, looking over my shoulder.

“It’s been a while since I’ve opened it, but providing Pa hasn’t changed it since, then, yes, I know the code.” But I hesitate because I’m suddenly struck with the realisation that there could be incriminating evidence in there, or more specifically, details about who my pa really is. I mean, I know he’s not who I thought, but to see it there in black and white…

“What are you looking for?” Blake asks as he enters the room, joining Roman and me at the wardrobe.

“I’m not really sure. Maybe something that will help us figure out where he’s gone. Pa is smart, well, he’d have to be to have kept his identity hidden all these years. But he’s also sentimental.”

I shake my arms, loosening then like I’m limbering up to go to battle. An emotional one, not physical. Then I step forward and put in the last code I used to open this safe.

The wait for the click feels like an eternity, but it’s mere seconds. The door pops open, and I swing it open all the way and peer inside.

There are two shelves, one containing paperwork and money, but it’s the top shelf I’m most interested in. Pushed to the very back is a metal box the size of a show box. I reach up and drag it forward, the screech of metal scraping against metal fills the silence. As it reaches the edge, I lift it, flicking it up and sliding it forward at the same time.

Strong arms reach over the top of me and pick it up. “I’ve got it,” Roman says, lifting it down and turning to place it on the bed behind us.

What I had hoped would be easy, just got a lot harder as we’re faced with a keypad on top of the box, and I have no clue what the code is.