XXIII
| Facets of Trust |
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The patio froze my bare feet, creating a bone-deep ache. I savored it in the same way I enjoyed every bit of the drag I took off my cigarette. A nasty habit I picked up after my parents died, but managed to quash a couple years ago. Even so, when I got stressed, my fingers twitched, craving the smooth burn of nicotine and tobacco. The smoke and vapor mingled in the air as I exhaled into the dark.
I'd woken up alone about an hour ago. My head throbbed like someone had an ax, splitting it in two. A hollow void opened in my chest again, engulfing any shred of joy and sinking me into the darkest corners of my mind. All I could think about was Garcia. He had trained me, molded me, truly forged me into the weapon he wanted. How had it happened? Why did my parents trust him? What made Garcia stand out among the rest, made my parents believe he could make me into the man I was meant to become?
The urge to be angry with them burned in the pit of my stomach, but each time I picked at it, I felt guilty. My parents wouldn't have set me up with someone like Garcia if they had known. There had to be another explanation. I didn't know how I'd ever get it out of Garcia, or how I'd ever be able to believe what he told me.
I wanted to talk to my parents. If I could ask them, try to understand... On top of everything else, the pain of missing my parents ripped through me. The image of Garcia pulling the knife from my father's chest kept replaying in my head. Again, I took a long drag from my cigarette. I wanted to be on a job, focused, no other thought in my head except the kill. The heavy weight of a gun in my hand, cool metal kissing my palm, fuck... Even that simple pleasure had been ripped away from me. How much was because I truly questioned my morals, and how much had Garcia manufactured my morality crisis? What in my life was mine? What was Garcia's? Where did I end, and where did he begin?
A cool breeze wound past the trees, and I shivered and swore. A sharp pain pierced through my shoulder where I was stabbed. I sunk further into the sweatshirt someone changed me into. I finished my cigarette and ground it out on the cement before heading back inside. I snuck through the house and back into my room. Grabbing a fleece throw from the bed, I wrapped it around my shoulders and sank down.
Monsters walked among us. Down each street, in every town, all across the globe. But what made a monster? The mere act of killing wasn't enough. Some murders were justified--self-defense, protecting family, freedom, a country. Perhaps the intention behind the kill determined whether the murderer was also a monster. So, the question then became, was doing a job, even one requiring the taking of someone else's life, enough to make a monster?
Garcia was a monster. He took what he wanted without consideration for others. Everything he did was for nothing more than his own personal gain. I couldn't say that I was much better. Even trying to turn my life around over the last couple of years, who was to say I hadn't done that for my personal gain as well?
My attention snapped up to the door as it creaked lightly, swinging open. Oliver stepped inside, gently pushing the door closed behind him. He turned, freezing when he saw me watching him.
"Hey," I said, my voice sounding too loud for the silence blanketing the house.
"Hey." Oliver shifted his weight, looking like a child sneaking around past their bedtime. The nervousness relaxed as he continued to watch me, however. It bloomed into curiosity, maybe some concern. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know." Pursing my lips, I scrubbed my hands down my face. My eyes felt heavy. "All this shit with Garcia... He trained me as a kid. My parents hired him to come into our home for him to teach me how to take a life. I'd hang on his every word, do everything I could to make him proud, and it's like he just used me. And then he killed my fucking parents on top of it."
Oliver crossed the room and sat next to me on the bed. "Why the fuck would your parents hire him? He doesn't seem like the type of person to trust."
I shrugged. "Every time I think about it, I just get angry at them. But, how can I be angry with them? They're my parents."
"It's okay to be angry with your parents, Alec."
"But they aren't even here to defend themselves, to answer any of my questions. That isn't fair."
"Nothing in life is," Oliver said. "And death even less so. It's not fair, and none of it was her fault, but sometimes I get furious with my sister for leaving me. I wasn't ready to take on the responsibility of kids, to become the head of our family, but that's what she left me. None of this was what I wanted for myself when I pictured my life. I wanted to meet someone, marry, maybe think about kids in my thirties or something. But I'm a father now, and even though it's hard some days, I couldn't imagine my life being any different."
"Something good came from yours, though. Where's the silver lining with Garcia and my parents? What makes a monster--what's the difference between me and Garcia when we both kill and take what we want for selfishness? Why did he kill my parents?"
The mattress rose and dipped as Oliver shifted his weight, turning to fully face me. "Alec, all of this brought us together. Garcia brought you into my family, into my life. I don't know about you, but I don't believe in coincidences, and I think with us being betrothed as kids, this was always supposed to happen. Garcia is just a catalyst to begin the lives that were meant for us." Taking my chin in his warm hand, he guided my gaze up to meet his. "And you are absolutely nothing like Daniel Garcia. You are not a monster. Humans are innately selfish, but Alec, ever since I've known you, I haven't seen a selfish bone in your body. You're kind, generous, helpful. Yes, you are an assassin. You have killed people, and so have I. Garcia, all those so-called good guys, have killed too. The only thing separating us is a badge, because I don't know about you, but I don't think either of us have killed someone we thought was genuinely making a good impact on the world."
"Who are we to decide that?"
"Who are the police to decide it?" Oliver searched my face. "We're never going to get answers to some of this shit--not in this life time at least. You're doing the best you can, and I think that's all any of us can do--be us teachers, doctors, assassins, ganglords, soldiers, cops, retailers. Morals aren't black and white, kitten, and we operate in a dark shade of gray. We're not monsters, we're not heroes--"
"We're just human."
Oliver smiled, soft and a tinge sad. "Exactly."
I shivered, shrinking away from Oliver and back into myself.
"Here," Oliver said, standing up to turn down the blankets. "I can get you settled back in. You need some sleep after what happened at the casino."
"Will you stay?"
"Of course."
I slid into the bed and let Oliver tuck me in. Once I was settled, he crawled into the other side of the bed, pulling the blankets up around himself, and pressed his chest to my back, tangling our legs together as he draped an arm across my hips. With his warm breath steady against the back of my neck, I closed my eyes and lost myself in him.
"Oh," I said, my voice already thick with sleep. "I love you too."
Oliver tensed behind me. "What?"
"When we were in the car--you said you loved me."
"I didn't think you heard that... I wanted it to be a little more special."
"Only thing I would've changed was losing consciousness when you said it. I wanted to say it back." I laced my fingers through his and squeezed his hand. "I've never been in love, and I never thought I'd fall in love. I never thought I'd trust someone enough, let alone love them enough to have a family again."
"After what happened with my sister, I didn't think I would either. The girls' father murdered her. He was a sorry piece of shit, but she was convinced he'd change. After that, and witnessing the shit I have through Savage 5, I didn't think I'd trust anyone, especially with having the girls. I didn't even want to hire a nanny, but Kinsley promised me she'd keep an eye out."
"Seeing what type of father you were, I always thought it was strange you'd have a nanny."
"Hard to run a multi-million dollar operation, a gang, and be a full-time father. I've cut back from work as much as I can without everything falling apart, and since you've been here, it's made me leaving so much easier. I worried at first, but ever since that day I saw you kill those men for the girls, I have nothing to fear."
"Oliver, I mean this, I would do anything for Ella and Paige. I'd kill for them, die for them, anything to make sure they're happy... I think of them as my own."
"The girls think the world of you. If things keep going like this, I think one day, we could be a real family. If that's something you'd want."
"A hundred times, yes," I said, turning onto my back, sure to protect my shoulder.
A sleepy smile curved Oliver's lips as he leaned over, kissing me lazily. No rush, no heat. Just a groggy goodnight kiss, melting me into the sheets, and chasing me into the ease of sleep.
"Alec?"
"Yeah?" I glanced over my shoulder to see my mother entering my bedroom. She wore a pair of black, silk pajamas with a fleece robe over them. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, but her makeup from the day clung onto her face, making her look less like she was ready for bed and more like she was getting dressed to go out.
"I just wanted to come in and tell you goodnight, sweet boy. With your father and I being out so much lately, I feel like we've just left you to fend for yourself. I'm hoping we can take some time off this summer to do something as a family."
"That'd be great! I understand why you guys have to be gone though. Without you, the scum of the earth would get out of hand."
Mom smiled. "That's right, honey. Maybe we can train together soon too. Your father and I have been watching you, and you're doing great. Garcia is pushing you in ways we can't, but we need to teach you a few family techniques too."
"Garcia--" I stopped myself. If I told her about what a dick he was, she'd tell me it was his job. Or that I wasn't listening to him during lessons. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not learning enough or improving enough."
"You are, even if you can't see it. You are always growing and bettering yourself. As long as you keep trying and doing your best, you will continue to improve." Mom held out her arms for a hug. She squeezed me tightly. All I could smell was the earthy tones of her patchouli perfume. "I love you so much."
"Love you too."
Mom let go of me and cupped either side of my face with her soft hands. "Alec." She stroked my cheekbones with her thumbs. "There is someone in your life who is not the person you think they are. Your father and I are taking care of it, but I need you to stay vigilant and be careful about who you trust."
I frowned, mentally scanning through everyone I knew--or at least saw on a regular basis. "It's Aimelee, isn't it? I saw her sneaking around in Dad's study last week."
"I'm not telling you. Any behavior out of the ordinary will make this person react, and if we want to catch them, then we must behave normally. Just be careful."
"Okay."
"Sleep well, honey."
A light kiss on my temple had me awake. I craned my neck to look up and saw Oliver's dark blue eyes washing over me.
"Good morning, kitten."
"Morning." I looked back at the wall. "I dreamt about my mom last night."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, but, it wasn't a dream. It actually happened, it was a couple months before they were killed."
"What happened?" Oliver asked.
"Mom told me there was someone who wasn't the person I thought they were and to be careful who I trusted. I thought it was my father's assistant, but, maybe it was Garcia. Maybe they knew."
"You'll never know for sure. There could've been more than one. Garcia isn't known for working alone."
"Maybe that's what got them killed. They thought only one person was in on it, but confided in the wrong person about killing the person they suspected."
"Are any of the people that worked for your parents still around?"
"No clue, but when I manage to get ahold of Garcia, I'm going to ask him."
"Can you believe him?"
"No, but it's better than having these questions eat me alive."
Before Oliver could get another word in, the door swung open and Ella and Paige rushed in, all smiles, energy, and questions about playing, breakfast, and why Daddy and Mr. Alec were in the bed together.