CHAPTER 14

Z ach

“You’re fucking early,” I barked as soon as I opened my front door.

“Yeah, well, this couldn’t wait. Besides, it’s after ten-thirty. I thought you corporate types got a jump on things at an ungodly hour.” The fact Walker was standing on my doorstep at such an early hour meant he had news. I opened the door wider, allowing him into my house. He’d never intruded on my privacy before, so I was surprised he’d decided to breach typical protocol.

I was only half dressed, returning home after five in the morning. I’d remained outside Sara’s apartment, pondering how to handle such a delicious prize. I’d returned home to nurse a couple of drinks before finally lying down.

I’d also lost track of time, which wasn’t like me. “You could have called.”

“Check your phone. I did.”

What the fuck was going on with me? I closed the door and moved past him. “You aren’t supposed to be here.” I headed for the kitchen. Another cup of coffee was needed at this point.

“I’m not some nepo cousin, dude. No one knows who I am.” Walker was a brute of a man on a good day, tattoos covering every inch of his skin. It was tough for him to blend into corporate settings without him terrorizing everyone else.

“Just get to your point about why you’re here.” I didn’t ask him if he wanted a cup of coffee. This wasn’t a social visit.

“Yeah, okay. I guess you haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?” I poured a cup, savoring the rich aroma.

“That dude you asked me check on?”

“You mean Jerry? My house isn’t bugged. You can mention his name.” I turned around to face him, leaning against the counter.

He shrugged. “You never know these days. I didn’t have any time to check on his whereabouts.”

“Which was the order I gave you.”

“Yeah, I get it. Anyway, he was T-boned yesterday afternoon. The other driver was going at a high rate of speed to do that kind of damage to the man’s car.”

I narrowed my eyes. What were the odds? Slim to nil. “And?”

“Trust me, the dude is dead. If you catch a picture of the vehicle he was driving, there ain’t much left.”

“The driver of the other car?”

“It was a Humvee or something like that according to witnesses. The driver sped off. From all accounts with barely any damage.” Walker grinned.

“A hit.”

“I think so. But that’s more your world than mine. You should know.”

I gave him a foul look. “I assume the police are involved?”

“Yeah. I was going to check his house anyway, but the police were already camped out. I guess the dude was important. Hell, the detective squad was there as well. I doubt I’ll be able to get inside anytime soon.”

The man had been killed. Why? Because he’d failed at something he’d been ordered to do or because I’d interfered? “I appreciate the information.”

“I found out one thing about him. You were right. He was a gambler, a bad one at that.”

Laughing, I nodded. “Yes, as I thought.” He’d been forced to do a favor. But for whom?

“Are we square now?”

“Hardly. You didn’t need to do shit. But you can do something for me that will wipe the slate clean.”

“Jesus, man. I do run a couple businesses.”

All I needed to do was glare at him for a few seconds. He knew exactly what I could do to him. I had enough ammunition on acts of treason he’d committed against a brutal drug lord that the guy would be fish bait within two hours if I let it go.

He threw up his hands. “You’re such a ballbreaker, man. What do you want me to do?”

“Simple. Find out what Sara Capshaw is hiding.”

“Is that the girl from the other night?”

“Yes, it is.”

His snicker pissed me off. “That ain’t much to go on. Who is she other than important to you, of course?”

“Tell me about your interaction with her when you dropped off her car.”

He scratched his bald head and huffed. “Nothing special. She was nice. Didn’t ask anything about you if that’s what you’re asking. Insisted on paying me. Of course I didn’t take any money. I knew better. But boy, was she a hottie. Tight little jeans. A body-hugging sweater. I can see why you like her.”

I took a gulp of coffee to try to quell my anger. No one talked to me that way. No one who wanted to live anyway. “Get this through your head, Walker. You will not touch her. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

“Absolutely.” His eyes were open wide. He knew better than to fuck with me.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the mounting tension. “She’s an employee of the Blackwell Group. I’ll provide her address and social security number. You can take it from there. Don’t allow her to know you’re checking into her background. I just want info.”

“Sure. I can do that. What in particular are you searching for?”

“The reason she and her brother are seemingly all alone in this world.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Don’t underestimate her. She is very good with disguises and secrecy.”

“Gotcha. I assure you that there ain’t a person alive who can hide from me.”

I gave him another look. The man was so sure of himself. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Another day had passed and I’d shocked myself by maintaining control. I’d even ignored the need to watch her sleeping a second time. Should I be proud of myself or worried?

My cell phone chirped and I closed my eyes briefly before reaching for it. I’d spent the rest of the limited morning attempting to discover anything else I could on Ms. Capshaw. Nothing stood out. She was simply just existing. I glanced at the screen and laughed.

“I’m on my way, Xander,” I insisted by way of answering.

“You’ll be late. That drives me nuts about you.”

“Get a grip, bro. It’s lunch, not a board meeting.” I laughed from hearing my brother’s tone. Wilder wasn’t usually concerned about timing. We didn’t need to be. We didn’t punch in or out at work. I’d had my head buried in going over some new design plans as requested by Xander. He’d recently returned from a trip overseas, securing additional customers in some lucrative markets.

That left the latest gaming concept on my desk. We were at least two months from release, but the buzz was already building that the as of yet unnamed game would be the star in our repertoire.

That’s what had been said about Dark Nights months before.

I’d locked myself in the production office, going over notes with Xander’s lovely wife. Jessica had become a powerhouse in her own right, a commanding presence in the industry. She also had some damn good ideas since she’d been a designer prior to coming to work with our company.

And falling in love with my brother.

The moment I’d surfaced, it was as if we had a marketing crisis on our hands.

I grabbed my keys, taking long strides as I headed out the door. While doing so, I jogged down the stairs to where the administrative area was located, taking a few extra minutes to weave my way through the jungle of cubicles. There was no one that reminded me of my beautiful wild kitty.

The darkness in her room had prevented me from capturing every feature, but the electricity we shared would give her identity away. Of that I was certain.

When I returned, I’d have a long chat with her boss.

Things were looking up.

I had a sweet pet to play with.

As I drove, my thoughts drifted to a few nights before. My cock throbbed twice as soon as I did. The entire situation with her car being disabled continued to trouble me. Was it possible she hadn’t really been the target? Was someone attempting to use her to infiltrate our operations?

No, that didn’t make any sense. The timing was off.

However, it also seemed too coincidental, something I didn’t buy in the least.

I’d instilled in Walker that time was of the essence. I wasn’t certain exactly why I felt that way, but I did, nonetheless. Or perhaps my patience truly was running out.

There was no one on this planet that would call me a decent human being. Well, except for my two brothers. To be honest, in comparison to what I suspected they’d done in their lives, including heinous acts of violence, I was probably considered an angel child.

Not by God. He’d long since forsaken me, assured I was a lost cause. The devil had his clutches on me and had since I was a kid.

There was a single reason I was musing over my past, deeds that had driven me to the understanding my soul would never be saved.

The woman, the lovely Sara.

A beautiful woman with eyes a color meant for rainbows and spring flowers. I was torn with my deep hunger to consume every inch of her. That would mean I’d need to invade her life. Walker had managed to fix Wild Kitty’s car, albeit he’d needed to replace several hoses as well as the ignition starter. He hadn’t elaborated on how the asshole had managed to disable her vehicle other than that the perpetrator had done so quickly, ripping apart everything they could to keep her from going anywhere.

I couldn’t be certain it was Jerry because he’d spent his night at the club. Maybe he’d been used as a distraction. Now that he was dead, I’d never find out. At least not in the method I preferred using.

The fucker hadn’t counted on a savior hiding in the shadows, prepared to swoop in and save her. Hell, I certainly hadn’t intended on breaking my stance on privacy, but memories of the night only a few days before lingered in my mind.

Was she really an innocent girl? It was obvious why she was working at the club in addition to maintaining her position at the company. She was merely attempting to make ends meet. Her brother’s tuition for the semester was late. It was also pricey as fuck. I had yet to delve into her brother’s life, but why wasn’t he helping her out?

A delicious puzzle to solve.

After tossing the keys of my Corvette to the valet of the country club where I was a member but rarely showed my face, I buttoned my suit jacket and glared at the building. Xander had called a meeting for this location, acting as if our presence was mandatory. I had a bad feeling that this was about a producer breathing down my brother’s neck.

With recent updates to Dark Nights, our most successful virtual reality game to date, our company was back in the news as it had been during the first two months of release. We’d added additional dangerous elements including acts of violence and of a sexual nature. We’d already received several X-ratings from various magazines, but that had only brought us additional notoriety.

If some Hollywood producer wanted to recreate our story, they’d need to dig deep into our pasts. What they’d find would curdle their blood. I was laughing to myself as I headed into the club. At least the place wasn’t nearly as stodgy as it had been twenty years before.

New and much younger owners had brought a vibrant feel along with the two years of renovation to the stuffy appearance. The club was still by invitation only, lifelong members allowed to come and go as they pleased. I often wondered if the younger owners had secretly developed a kink club in the infamous basement, a location considered off limits to guests.

If so, I’d love to see it.

I was still chuckling as I walked into one of two dining rooms. There were plenty of private rooms, but Xander had specifically mentioned he wanted our meeting out in the open. The four remaining board members had been labeled as aloof, dangerous, and loose cannons and for some crazy reason, my oldest brother was eager to alter our image.

Why? Because he’d found respite in the arms of a woman. My brother Wilder would say he’d found salvation, but I doubted that was a possibility. Xander was all about the bottom line, increasing our wealth and standing in the gaming community.

As if any of us needed more money.

I was the last to arrive, which was typical since I didn’t care for the pomp and circumstance of our business activities. I enjoyed delving into the details, refining the games while ensuring every operation within the company ran smoothly. By this point, the organization was like a well-oiled machine. Very little needed to be done, every employee vetted and considered trustworthy as hell.

We were lucky in that regard, especially after the extortion attempt months before. I strode toward the table, cognizant a solid dozen club members were paying close attention to my entrance.

Not as many patrons were old timers as I’d seen the first two or three times I’d bothered to walk inside. However, the location was still considered conservative, members including the upper echelon of Chicago society. They all acted as if they had nothing to hide, had no dirty little secrets to reveal. If they truly believed they were fooling anyone, they were out of their minds.

The women in the group were openly gawking, a couple licking their lips as if the overt attempts to attract my attention would do so.

Christopher Canton was the remaining nonfamily board member after Elizabeth Reynolds had been arrested for her part in the blackmail and extortion scheme. He was a family man yet adored the games we created, using the alternate reality to soothe the demons he had lurking inside of himself. That’s why the four of us got along so well.

We were all damaged fucks.

“You had to select the club?” I asked as I sat down, immediately leaning back in my chair. We had a pristine view of the manmade lake just outside the picture window. On a beautiful sunny day, there were people out feeding the ducks, a few fishing down on the pier. How picturesque.

As if I cared.

“Why not show off our wealth and status in the community?” Xander asked as he followed my actions, sitting back as if he was on his throne, preparing to command his underlings.

“He has a hidden agenda,” Christopher sighed as he lifted his drink.

Wilder chuckled. “Of course he does. We certainly didn’t come here for the entertainment. At least the food is decent since they changed chefs.”

I rolled my eyes as I glanced at him. Within seconds, I had a drink in front of me, Xander’s refreshed. The club owners prided themselves in learning everything they could about their clients.

When Xander waved off the waiter, I leaned forward. “Cut to the chase, Xander. Why are we here? We could have easily met at the office.”

“We need to be seen more. What’s wrong with that?” He held a mischievous expression on his face.

“I get it,” I told him. “You want us caught in the press.”

“Why the hell not?” Xander was excellent at acting as if he couldn’t care less about being watched, studied like some lab rat.

“You’ve been hiding in the production offices. Right?” Christopher asked, immediately scanning the room. Was the man suddenly nervous about something?

“As commanded by our CEO,” I teased.

Christopher grabbed an ice cube from his glass, sucking on it.

“Why do I have the feeling I missed something?”

“Show him. He’s obviously not paid any attention.” Wilder drummed his fingers on the table.

“Show me what?” I glanced from one man to the other.

Christopher pulled out his phone, scrolling to something. When he handed it to me, my first instinct was to laugh until I noticed the quote used only two paragraphs down in the article.

“Fear the sins that you commit in secret, because the witness of those sins is the judge himself.”

The same famous quote that I’d received personally days before. “What is this?”

“An article in a St. Louis newspaper. My cousin lives there and sent it to me.” Christopher wasn’t happy.

“St. Louis,” Wilder chortled. “Mega gaming city.” It wasn’t, but that didn’t matter.

I read the article and sighed. “The reporter received the quote and used it?” The question was rhetorical since the man who’d written the article had mentioned he’d been sent the quote via anonymous email with a note to look into the family. Not the company. The brothers themselves. He’d even alluded to the fact our pasts were linked together by reprehensible events.

Whatever the fuck that meant. We didn’t grow up in the same cities let alone in the same foster families. I tossed the phone back at Christopher and laughed.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Xander said.

“I’m not. I received a threat from a visitor at my house the other night. He used the same quote.”

All three men sat up in their seats. “And you’re just telling us this?” Wilder tossed out.

Shrugging, I took a few slow sips of my drink. “Isn’t there a drawer full of threats we’ve received since the company started?”

“Yes, but very few of them came in person. Only a few were planted across newspapers.” Xander also didn’t seem as worried as Wilder did.

“One newspaper doesn’t mean this has been broadcast around the country. Someone is fishing for information about our pasts,” I told all three of them.

“What will they find?” Christopher asked. He knew only the summation of how Xander had found Wilder and me, reaching out long after we’d left the system and the tyranny we’d faced in foster care.

However, he certainly didn’t and wouldn’t learn the details of our suffering. The three of us had agreed what had occurred in the past should remain locked away. If anyone discovered our acts of survival, we’d be crucified whether in the press or literally, rotting away in some prison cell.

“There’s nothing to find,” Xander insisted. “We’re foster kids. So the fuck what? Our parents died and there was no one else to take us in. That means nothing in this world.”

“The reporter alluded to something explosive coming in a future piece.” Christopher was fishing. Why? Yes, he had as much to lose as the rest of us as far as money was concerned. However, the article bothered him more than the extortion had.

“He’s trying to sell newspapers, buddy. Good God. You of all people know how reporters are,” Wilder said, although I could tell by the look in his eyes that he remained troubled by the threat being made personally. “Do you have any idea who threatened you?”

“None. The person was careful to hide their true identity. I’ve analyzed my videos and there’s nothing to help me decipher if my visitor was male or female including footsteps.” My mind was churning through the incidents from the last few days. Including Jerry’s murder.

What I didn’t want to happen was to have Sara’s world linked to mine. At least not yet.

“That happened one time?” Xander asked.

I nodded. “A scare tactic. You didn’t ask us to come here because of any threat. What’s up?”

Xander leaned forward. “It would appear the production company is serious about producing a movie using Dark Nights as a backdrop. A contemporary thriller. They’re talking a top-notch screen writer and director.”

“They need our consent first,” I reminded him. “And a contract that won’t exploit the game in any way. We don’t need our competitors getting any ideas based on a goddamn movie.” I wasn’t thrilled with the idea in the first place.

Christopher glanced in my direction. “I have the contract hot in my hands. I’ve gone over it a couple times. Nothing wrong with what they sent, although I need to have a conversation with the man in charge before I bring it to the three of you.”

“Things move fast,” I muttered.

“You were AWOL,” Xander reminded me.

“Working, not playing like you do.”

He laughed. “I have reasons. Finding a mate would do the two of you some good. Right, Chris?”

“I’m outta here,” Wilder stated as he started to get up.

“Not so fast.” Xander gave him a hard look.

“Let me guess,” I said, ready to walk out myself. While I wasn’t going to say anything, I had a very bad feeling that the warning was just the beginning of something. Our pasts were being researched. That’s something the three of us should have done years before. There were too many unanswered questions. “You want me to head to LA.”

“Absolutely. You brought the glitz and glamor to the games. You can speak their language.”

“I doubt that,” I told Xander. “I’m not interested. We don’t need a movie made about our games.”

“The production company can create a movie around the game without using the name. Yes, you could try and stop them, but the dollars spent would be astronomical. Why not work with them so our secrets are kept?” Christopher had always tried to be the voice of reason.

The table suddenly became very silent. “I’ll think about it.” What I was also thinking about was Brant’s insistence that the Obsidian Society was a part of our world. The article written about the dark society had stuck with the man. It hadn’t been the first time he’d asked me about it nor would it be the last.

And his interest had nothing to do with the goddamn haunted mansion he was running or wanting me to see how fabulous it was. I had a hunch.

“You’re keeping the names of the people vying for the board position, right?” I asked Christopher.

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you recognize the name Brant Abbott?”

Christopher narrowed his eyes. “I do. He’d be a top contender except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“In doing a deep dive of his background, I discovered his father owns several shares in various media firms, including several who own newspapers across the country.”

“The St. Louis Gazette ?” I asked, regarding the article that was just written.

He took a deep breath. “Shit. Yeah. I hadn’t put two and two together. Why?”

“Because he’s been asking me about the Obsidian Society.” Given we were in a public place, I had to keep my voice low. The society was still on the downlow, the original fifteen minutes of fame dying off only weeks after the article had been printed.

“Asking?” Wilder pushed.

“Pushing me. Insisting that it exists. He wants his new warehouse club possibly included. I have an open invitation for opening night.”

“Someone has been talking. You need to find out who.” Xander’s suggestion was already on my mind.

“Maybe I’ll pay the man a visit and maybe check out the warehouse, but I doubt we’ll want to grant his wish. What about the game?”

Xander snorted. “You want to move forward now?”

“Why not?” I smiled and he shook his head.

“Hold on here. You already have a candidate in mind. Don’t you? The game is more personal to you this time.”

“Perhaps I do.” My thoughts drifted to Wild Kitty. Tonight I planned on following her home, beginning to learn every subtle nuance about her.

“Fine. Let’s move on with the game, but hold off on electing a new board member. I don’t think bringing in new blood at this point in time is a good idea.” Wilder looked at me first, finally glancing around the table.

Xander was unconvinced, I could tell. “We need to be careful.”

“We also can’t ignore something that provides us with fantastic talent and satisfies our cravings.”

“Agreed,” Christopher said. “I’ll check on Brant to see what else I can find. Be careful with whatever you say or do to him.” His words were directed at me. He knew how I could get, losing my temper at a moment’s notice.

“Stop worrying. I know how to handle the man. We’ve been friends for years.” I knew his father was involved in several business ventures. Brant was slowly taking over as vice president of his father’s firm. It would seem rational that he was digging into our background. However, I’d never seen his father as an enemy to our firm. He wasn’t involved in the gaming industry.

“I hate to break this up, but I have a client to meet with. I just stopped by on my way there.” Christopher tossed his napkin on the table.

“A client, huh?” Xander teased. Chris was our corporate attorney, but he maintained work with other clients as well. It was his way of keeping his name on the door of the most powerful attorney firm in Chicago.

“Yeah, a boy’s gotta eat. You don’t pay me enough.” Christopher laughed as he stood. “I’ll let you know what I find. Meanwhile, if you do head to LA, look out for piranhas.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as he walked away.

Xander sighed. “We’re always going to have a target on our backs. There’s no reason to pretend we won’t or to shy away from our pasts.”

“What if there is something to find?” Wilder asked absently.

“Meaning?” We’d all agreed we wouldn’t dig any deeper into the circumstances of our childhoods. What good would it do at this point? Cause additional heartache? Bring back unwanted memories of torture and tragedy? I wasn’t in the mood to relive that part of my life.

“Meaning there’s a reason the information before we were taken into foster care was locked down. Aren’t you curious?” Wilder lifted his eyebrows.

“We’ve been over this before,” Xander stated. “We agreed. We’re finished with that era.”

Wilder did have a subtle but profound point. Given the media circus surrounding us, the women throwing themselves at us, and reporters and other gamers alike acting as if we were the devil and his minions reincarnated, anything was possible.

What the heck? I posed the question all three of us had thought about more than once.

“What if someone who knows about our pasts won’t allow the secrets to remain hidden? What if the ugliness has a chance of destroying us?” While there was a wicked smile on my face since I already knew the answer, I sat back and waited as patiently as possible for their answers.

I’d thought about the very question for a couple of years. I’d learned something valuable years before. When anyone attempted to keep secrets padlocked away, there was always a way for others to discover the information and use it against the person.

If that occurred, I knew exactly what would happen.

We’d return to our previous activities. God help those who stood in our way.

Xander thoughtfully swirled his drink while Wilder chuckled under his breath and returned his attention to his menu. Our oldest brother leaned forward, the twinkle in his eyes suggesting I’d been right about his answer.

“Then it’s simple. We take care of the situation, so it never occurs again.”

In other words? We would kill the bastard.

There was only one other subject that garnered the attention of my full arousal as sex always did. Violence. Right now, my cock ached like a son of a bitch.

Perhaps it had been far too long since I’d indulged in my second greatest fantasy.

The remainder of lunch was a reminder of why I didn’t enjoy pretending to be the billionaire mogul like Xander so obviously did. There was far too much attention being paid to our table, other members latching onto our actions. The vast majority of them were moguls themselves, yet no one had ever experienced the likes of us. Or so we’d been told.

Once three, now two unattached bachelors, we’d been labeled the hottest men in the city. It was a distinction I couldn’t care less about, but our notoriety seemed to trouble other people. I was reminded once again why I’d been told more than once while in school that I didn’t people very well. Why should I? They usually had opinions that didn’t matter to me in the least.

“So you’ll head to LA?” Xander asked after the waiter cleared our plates. The bill would be placed on our account, one perk of the twenty thousand dollar a year membership fee.

“I said I’d consider it. We have clients to think about. I won’t place any account into jeopardy.”

Wilder laughed. “Since when do you worry about our client list?”

“Since we’re continually receiving threats. One day there could be someone capable of bringing down our business operations.” I wasn’t usually so morbid in my thinking, but the entire situation with using a particular quote had pushed me to an edge I wasn’t used to standing on.

“Oh, how very ominous sounding. Are you certain nothing else occurred you need to tell us about?” Wilder tossed his napkin before standing. When we had lunch together, which was infrequent, we never stayed for chitchat or coffee. We’d been seen. Time to get back to work.

I followed suit, offering him the same kind of dirty look he seemed to enjoy offering me.

He threw up his hands. “Just checking, bro. You seem different.”

Different. Why the hell should he care? We weren’t bosom buddies. “I’m just offering my two cents. I don’t play games with anyone, let alone movie producers.” I headed for the door, my two brothers catching up to me only after we were in the main salon leading to the entrance doors.

“I don’t think I need to tell either one of you that we need to watch our backs.” Xander’s voice was calm, but I sensed his discord. We all had a right to be somewhat edgy after the shit we’d been through. When anyone was perched high on the pinnacle of success, it was as if teetering on a stack of dominos. One wrong piece moved and the entire thing would come toppling down.

“We pay attention and don’t do anything rash,” I recommended, which was nothing new.

“Said like a man who’s just gotten laid.” Wilder continued laughing. The man was always fishing in my business, and it was beginning to piss me off.

I didn’t bother providing an answer of any kind. Both my brothers laughed since they knew my past track record. I’d been a womanizer in my youth. So what. So had they. I’d grown bored.

Until the other night.

The feisty woman was never far from my mind.

I was just getting started with my plans for her, as devious as they were.

I slammed my hand on the door, taking long strides onto the portico. At that very moment, a video camera appeared only inches from my face, a reporter with a decent albeit sordid reputation standing just off to the side with a microphone in his hand.

And a lurid, knowing smile on his face.

With no security present, the man advanced like some predatory creature, sticking the microphone in front of all three of us. The grin on his face widened, allowing his gaze to flow from one to the other of us.

My gut told me whatever question he was about to ask had nothing to do with the Blackwell Group or our success.

This was also very personal.

“The Blackwell brothers.” The reporter had a smile on his face.

“What do you want, David?” I threw back.

“What can you tell me about Cain DeMarco?” David asked.

The name rang a bell and almost instantly my hackles were raised.

“David, you should know better than to accost us after we’d just had lunch,” Xander offered, even laughing as if the intrusion meant nothing.

“Just answer the question,” David pushed, shoving the implement in my brother’s face.

As usual, I overreacted when being approached in this manner. I snagged the microphone, prepared to yank it from his hand and snap the flimsy material in half.

David didn’t seem troubled by my actions. In fact, he appeared satisfied. He’d known what to expect.

“You don’t remember?” he pressed. “Cain DeMarco, the most notorious serial killer in the country, born and raised right here in Chicago.”

“What the fuck are you getting at?” Wilder snarled.

I pulled my hand away, cognizant the cameraman was rolling film.

David acted as if he was shocked that we had no clue who the hell he was referring to.

Even though his mention of the name manifested itself into questions swirling in my mind. Where had I heard the name before? The news?

“Let me help you with the puzzle. Cain DeMarco, a monstrous man sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of parole for the slaughter of fifteen human beings including his own wife. A woman who happened to be the mother of three young boys. The Blackwell boys. Cain’s biological sons.”