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Chapter Twenty-One

Perry

I stared at Nate, my eyes dry and my head pounding. The pain radiating from the cuts on my right thigh felt numb, just like the rest of me. Sitting had relieved the pressure in my knee. I’d taken some anti-inflammatory meds when we’d gotten back, and true to Nate’s plan, we’d cleaned up. He’d doctored my cuts, shoved some food in our mouths, drank two bottles of water, and sat down to have Nate’s so-called heart-to-heart.

The pain in my head could be an early migraine. It could also just be a reflection of the heavy weight sitting on my chest. My body was simultaneously hot and cold. My fingers felt heavy and weightless. Everything within me was a contradiction, including my racing thoughts.

Nate was still talking. He’d been talking for the last fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Honestly, I’d lost track of time about two minutes into his outrageous tale. He’d asked me to listen, to keep my questions and disbelief locked up until he’d gotten everything out. It was horribly unfair of him. It was also probably best.

Maverick Insurance: the last insurance company you’ll ever need.

My lips were parted. I’m sure my mouth had hung open a lot farther somewhere along the line. I wasn’t really sure and couldn’t figure out why I was currently fixated on it. The state of my facial expressions didn’t seem all the relevant when faced with the possibility that I worked for a company whose employees didn’t sell legally binding insurance, but murder for hire.

It was ridiculous. Insane. Unbelievable. Batshit crazy. It also made a weird kind of sense. My brain had screamed denial at the beginning, but the longer Nate talked, the more pieces he put on the playing board, the more it made sense. All the little quirky issues that had come up, all the flags that my brain couldn’t quite put a color to—they came together so seamlessly that my doubts faded into sad acceptance. Even the way Malcom and Delia had been acting the last few days…

Delia. How was I going to tell Gayle?

Nate’s voice was solid, if not heavy. Another roll of thunder sounded nearby, and I wondered if this storm would hit the camp. A different kind of storm was currently raging under the metal roof of our little cabin.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Nate said, and I thought that was probably his lead-in to unburdening his heavy load. “I probably should have. Nat, Captain Barrington, and I all discussed it at length. I wanted to tell you, but at the same time—”

“You didn’t,” I answered, tone flat, reflecting my numbness.

Nate hung his head. “I didn’t. I’m sorry if that was the wrong choice.”

Was it? I didn’t know. If I’d been in Nate’s mental shoes, would I have told him? Add it to the list of things I didn’t know.

“Are you mad?” Nate scoffed and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing his hand down his face. “What am I saying? Of course you’re pissed.”

Was I? Should I be? I searched my emotions and didn’t come up with that one. Maybe I’d be angry later, once I fully digested everything. Beyond the numbness, I felt…sad. Replaying the last twenty minutes, I verbally summed up the facts. Maybe I needed to say them out loud so they’d stick.

“Gregory Granger’s death was a contract? Taken out by his wife?”

Nate nodded. “The contract was given to Brian VanHorn. I don’t know all the details, but Malcom, and presumably the other executives, agreed with the hit. Mr. Granger was becoming a problem.”

And evidently, there was a singular way Maverick Insurance dealt with problems. “That’s why Brian tried to kill me, because you were investigating and…” I lost the thread because it still didn’t completely add up.

“I think it was more than that. He was worried that Malcom had hired you. I would imagine a lot of Maverick employees felt that way. At least in the beginning. I don’t think they feel that way now.”

“Because they realized I really can’t remember anything about the night I was attacked in the alley. Because I couldn’t point the finger at Willie.” Thoughts tumbled through my brain almost too quickly to latch onto. One thought slammed into me and stuck. “Did they all know?”

“That Willie Slater was the one that injured you?” Nate clarified. At my weak nod, he shrugged and said, “I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

I was stuck somewhere between wanting to scream until my throat was raw and curling up into a quivering, silent ball. Caught between the two extremes, I simply sat there and asked, “Why?”

“Why?” Nate’s head cocked to the side and he asked, “Why did Willie attack you?”

That hadn’t been what I was going for, but I answered, “Sure, let’s start with that.”

“I’m not sure. As far as Nat and I can tell, what happened in the alley really wasn’t planned, at least not your involvement. If Malcom hadn’t been there, and—”

“Malcom was there?” My eyes went impossibly wide, and for the first time, I felt like I might throw up.

Elbows on knees, Nate leaned forward and wrapped my hands in his. Nate’s fingers were so warm compared to mine. “He was. Malcom was the one that got Willie to stop. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t think…” Nate couldn’t finish, and his gaze slipped to the side, staring at the floor.

We silently sat there, the rumble of thunder gaining in frequency and volume. It sounded like this storm had us firmly in its sights. The wind outside picked up, and the cabin groaned against the onslaught. The afternoon sun faded into ominous darkness, and the lights in the cabin flickered twice before holding onto their illumination.

“All the times Malcom told me not to try and remember that night… I thought he was just being kind, but …God, Nate. What if I would have remembered? What would Malcom have done then?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Not for certain.”

I barked out a mirthless laugh as the first drops of rain slammed into the metal roof. “He hired me.” I smacked my forehead. “The flyers on the floor of my apartment. The ones attached to the doors advertising the janitorial job at Maverick Insurance. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

Nate jolted forward, his firm fingers wrapping around my biceps. “You are not an idiot. Malcom has made a career of deceiving people. He’s an expert.”

Somehow, Nate’s words didn’t make me feel a whole hell of a lot better. “He’s just been pretending to like me.” I shook my head. “Why didn’t he just let Brian kill me? Why bother saving me? Wouldn’t it be easier with me gone? He wouldn’t have to keep close tabs on me, waiting to see if I remembered anything.” I could only assume that’s why Malcom had gone to such lengths to hire me. To keep me close at hand just in case my memories came flooding back.

Nate’s eyes pinched shut, the skin between them furrowing. His lips parted several times, obviously reluctant to say more. After everything I’d heard, I couldn’t imagine what could be so bad he was hesitating now.

“Just say it,” I broke down and said.

Nate’s exhaled breath slumped his shoulders. His nodded acceptance was weak, but his words were sure when he said, “Malcom’s a liar who excels at mind games. But one thing he’s not lying about is his affection for you.”

I scoffed. “How do you figure that?”

With a grimace, Nate said, “He knew your father.”

I physically jerked back. The rain was coming down in sheets now, loud against the metal roof. I had to have heard Nate wrong. The auditory assault Mother Nature was laying down was playing tricks with my hearing.

When I just sat there, staring, Nate shattered my world by repeating what he’d just said. “Malcom knew your father. I… Again, I’m not sure of the details. Truth be told, I didn’t want to know then, and I still don’t want to know now. All I know is that Malcom told me your father was a type of mentor, that he was the one that trained Malcom Johnson.”

There wasn’t enough air. My heavy chest felt like there would never be enough air again. I wheezed, short gasps pulling in increasingly deficient oxygen.

“Perry. Perry! Focus on me. Listen to my voice and breathe.” Nate sounded more panicked than I felt. He grabbed my hand, slamming it against his chest. I could feel Nate’s heart pounding. More than that, I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. With effort, I synced our breathing, and my oxygen-deprived body slowly recovered. If only my heart and mind could mend so quickly.

When I could breathe enough to form words, I said “You’re wrong. Dad was—”

“Was a great father,” Nate said. “Never, ever doubt that. I never got a chance to meet him, but what I can gather is he left that life for you and your mother. Don’t tarnish the memories of your father with imagined images of what he did before you were born. People change, Perry. I see it all the damn time.”

I blinked, and when Nate wiped the wetness from my face, I realized I’d been crying. “D-did Mom know?”

Nate shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, Perry.”

I turned my head, unable to stare into Nate’s pitying eyes. The rain was so heavy it looked black as night outside. Lightning briefly lit up the sky, followed by a cabin-shaking roll of thunder. The storm was right on top of us.

The sound of Nate shifting, moving his chair beside mine, registered vaguely. When he wrapped his arms around me and held on tight, I barely felt it. My body and mind were drained. I was an empty shell and couldn’t imagine anything that could fill me up again. I relished the numbness washing through me. Every crevice was cold. I was a vast wasteland of nothingness.