"Mr. Allen, thank you for coming to see me. I'm so sorry for your loss." Nate said to Kelsey Allen's husband.
Nick and I watched Nate with Kelsey Allen's husband through the hidden camera in the Payco conference room. I gave him an earpiece in case he needed help. Deceit came more naturally for him than I had expected. He wasn't even nervous.
"Call me Michael. So, will you tell me who you are now? And why was it so important that you see me?" He was uncertain and suspicious of Nate's invitation to meet.
"We have a common interest." Nate began.
"And what would that be?"
"Alec Gallagher." The mere mention of Alec's name instantly got Michael hanging on whatever Nate had to say next.
A familiar hunger that I once experienced when Nick and Kai first found me took over. Hearing Alec's name clearly flipped a switch in him.
"What about Alec Gallagher is your concern?" Michael questioned. His eyebrows pulled together quizzically.
"Oh, did I not mention what my name is?" He said reaching his hand out, "Nathan Shepard, son of Martin Shepard. As I'm sure you know, Alec attempted to murder me and my family when I was four years old."
Michael's face changed from suspicious to shocked. He wasn't sure how to respond.
"You are supposed to be dead. Kelsey told me about your family's story when she covered it."
"How much did she tell you? Did she know why Alec didn't stop at Martin? Why did he kill my mother and Aiden? Why did he want my sister and me dead too?" Nate questioned.
I knew how important these answers were to him, but he remained emotionless.
"You would have to ask your father why he wanted to kill you." Micheal shrugged.
Nate suddenly slammed his fist against the table. The man didn't even flinch.
"If Kelsey told you anything, you would know damn well my father was innocent. Alec got your wife to help him frame my dad. After it backfired on them, when the videos leaked at the fundraiser, he killed her."
"What do you want from me then?" He was tired and didn't care much for Nate's theatrics.
"I want to know what Kelsey told you."
"She believed Alec wanted your entire family dead to ensure no one of you would come after him when you grew up... much like you are right now. He hides his crimes in plain sight. The police aren't idiots. They are just funded by Alec under the table. They look the other way as long as it isn't obvious to the outside. Kelsey knew one of you was still alive, but she thought it was Aiden. How do you know I won't hand you over to Alec? You Why do want this information?"
"I want justice for my family and yours. I want him to go to prison for the rest of his life. I want him to feel the pain he caused for both our families. Most of all, I want to gain your loyalty before Alec buys it from you. Do you believe Alec killed your wife?" Nate asked.
"Yes. I was the first one to tell the police that. Kelsey was scared of him. Everything she did to your father she did out of fear of Alec. She carried so much guilt over it. I promise you she was a good person. She wasn't like Alec. She was a puppet, and I hate myself for not being able to save her. She never really told me how bad things were. I only knew when it was too late." Michael got choked up as he spoke. His head tilted up towards the ceiling, clenching his fists to regain composure.
Nate was doing well. He kept a straight face without faltering. He was going to be better at this than I expected.
"Why did she take over a decade to decide to come clean?"
"I told you because she was scared, obviously for good reason. Otherwise we wouldn't even be here. She wasn't just scared of nothing. My oldest child is five years old. She knows enough to notice when her mom is gone but not enough to comprehend death. Do you know what it's like to tell your five year old daughter that her mom is dead?" Michael growled at Nate, who was impressively unfazed by the outburst.
This man looked like he hadn't slept in months. His sleeplessness was apparent in the dark circles lining his eyes. His cheeks had sunken in, making him look hollow.
"No, but I do know what it's like to lose everyone in my family except my sister in one night. I think we are on the same page. All I need to know is if you are willing to do what it takes to bring down Alec Gallagher." Nate explained, "Alec is going to try to frame you for Kelsey's murder. All I need is your loyalty. As long as I have that, I will do everything I can stop that from happening. Do I have your support in this?"
Nate's demeanour never faltered. He successfully maintained an unreadable expression.
"Whatever you need, you have my loyalty. I can't go directly up against the Gallagher's. I still have two children to raise, but I support whatever you're planning if it ensures they burn in hell. Can I go now?" Michael agreed.
He shook his hand before he left. I walked in to see a very proud Nate with a satisfied look on his face.
"I told you. I'm good at this." He said with is hand in the air waiting for a high five.
"I'm impressed, Nate. Don't get too excited. I'm still limiting your involvement." I warned.
He was too excited about the mission. I would have Abby to deal with after she knew I let him get involved. After he left, I finished up some work and my scheduled sabotage of Alec's business endeavour of the week. I got up to date with what was happening in Kelsey's murder investigation before packing up for the day.
Bridget and I had planned to go to the beach after work, so I left to meet at her house. One of the nannies answered the door. Her younger brothers were bouncing off the walls. Megan was lying on the couch in the conservatory under a throw blanket.
"Jacob!" Dylan and Connor shouted, shooting their nerf guns at me. I played along and pretended to be wounded, earning a small giggle from Megan.
"Where's your sister?" I asked them. Bridget was no wear to be found. The boys were too enticed with their toys to bother answering.
"Coming!" I heard her call from behind me as she rushed downstairs, "Sorry, I just came back from the office. I wanted to change into shorts."
"No worries. Ready?" I asked as she grabbed a beach blanket. I could tell by her body language she was stressed and on edge.
"Bridget, can I come?" Megan asked.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Meg. You've been pretty out of it today. I don't want to push it."
"Please? You promised to take me down to the beach two weeks ago." Megan begged. Bridget looked at me apologetically.
"Do you mind if they come?" She asked quietly.
"Not at all." I assured her. I was generally uncomfortable around children, but I didn't mind being around her younger siblings as long as she was there.
I carried Megan on my back down the steps to the beach while Bridget kept up with Dylan and Connor, who were zooming passed us. When we made it down, I gently set Megan down and sat next to her. The coast had been cloudy and brisk for the last week, and today was no different.
Bridget was preoccupied keeping the boys from running too far, which left me alone with Megan. I've spent a considerable amount of time with her over the summer, but never without Bridget leading most of the interaction. I had no idea how to handle children or what to say to them. Sitting in silence next Megan made me nervous. Did kids enjoy just quietly sitting? Was I supposed to entertain her? What would I do? Fucking juggle?
"Are you Bridget's boyfriend?" She broke the silence.
Christ, I hate children. While we clearly weren't just friends anymore, we hadn't exactly discussed what we are. To me, she was a pawn in my mission, who I happened to enjoy and maybe care for. There really was not a clear answer to give, so I changed the subject.
"How are you feeling, Megan?" I said. She rolled her eyes, but didn't press for an answer. I wasn't sure how to talk to her. She wasn't a baby, so I would not speak in that annoying baby tone. She was still a little kid nonetheless, but I just spoke as I would to anyone else.
"I'm tired of being sick." She said honestly, "I want to go back to normal."
"I know," was all I could say to her. I could see her struggling to sit upright, so I let her lean her head on me. She was weaker than the last time I saw her.
"Jacob, am I going to die?" She asked out of nowhere.
Well, now, I prefer the fucking boyfriend question.
I looked around to see Bridget wasn't close enough to overhear and answer for me. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to lie and say absolutely not. Despite lying everyday to most people here, I couldn't lie about this.
"How do you even know what that word means?" I stalled.
"I'm an eight year old girl, not a complete idiot. Might as well be though because everyone keeps lying to me." She rolled her eyes. I raised my eyebrows at her, a little surprised.
"No one ever really knows when they are going to die. I could die tomorrow, and you could live one hundred years."
"You are lying like Bridget. She keeps saying I'll be fine."
"I didn't say that you will be fine," I said bluntly, "I said I don't know."
"That's a lie." She countered, "I saw Bridget crying today. She doesn't cry unless it's something really bad."
"It's not a lie. Maybe it's not every detail of information you want, but it's true. Why do you think you're going to die?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I don't go to school anymore, I go to the doctor all the time, I can't play soccer anymore, and I take more medicine than my grandpa." She shot back, full of sarcasm. She spoke ten years beyond her age. Her teenage-like maturity made it even harder to talk to her.
I heard a sniffle from her. I looked down to see that she had tears in her eyes. How the fuck was I supposed to approach this? I had no godly clue how to handle a crying child, much less one crying about a life-threatening illness.
"Come here," I pulled her small frame onto my lap, "Don't cry, love. It's okay."
Bridget sat down next to us after the boys ran back up to the house. She was out of breath from chasing them around in the sand. A look of concern spread on her face as she registered Megan crying.
"What's the matter, babe?" She asked. She laid her hand on Megan's shoulder as she cried into my chest.
"I'm going to die, and everyone is lying to me about it." She sobbed. I was at a loss for words, so I just held her tighter. Hearing a child crying about their mortality was a unique kind of bone chilling. It went completely against the natural order of things. It simply shouldn't happen.
All the colour drained from Bridget's face. The guilt I felt in that moment was crushing. For a brief second, I wished that my mission didn't exist. I wished I could genuinely comfort Megan and Bridget without the weight of my lies hovering over it. I wished the reason I was in their life was different. But, wishing for such things was not productive for them or me, so I swallowed it, pushing the thought away.
Bridget looked at me, questioning what on earth I could have said to her sister to trigger this.
"Why do you think that?" She asked.
"I saw you crying in your room this morning. The last time I saw you cry, Bella died, so the same thing is going to happen to me." She sniffled, "I don't want to die."
I watched as Megan's words visibly broke Bridget's heart. I knew hearing that would make her feel horribly guilty about Megan seeing her earlier. She stayed quiet to keep herself composed. I reached my one free hand out to comfort her, but she flinched away. Her hand gripped the blanket tightly as she fought the wetness in her eyes. I waited for her to say something until I realised she couldn't speak.
"It will be alright, love," I said, "I don't know what will happen, but everything will be fine. Please, don't cry."
Megan kept her face buried in my chest. As I hushed her cries, Bridget stood up and walked toward the crashing waves. She stopped when the water touched her ankles, crouching down with her heads in her hands. After she regained composure, she took Megan from my arms onto her lap, wiping the tears from her red cheeks.
"Meg, listen to me, please, babe. I am so sorry you saw me like that earlier, but it was not because you are dying. I was stressed about a lot of things, and I thought I was in private. Sometimes that happens, even with adults." Bridget explained softly.
"But why are you and Mommy and Daddy all lying to me?" Megan asked, sounding more like her actual age for the first time today.
"It's not that we're lying. There's just a lot of information that is hard even for us to understand. I don't want you to be afraid."
"That is bullshit, and you know it." Megan snapped through her tears. I pursed my lips to hide my surprise. Bridget's eyes widened.
"Megan, I know you're upset, but under no circumstances can you use that word."
"You can lie to me about my health, but god forbid I curse." She scoffed.
Megan, one. Bridget, zero. There was no way she was only eight. I stayed quiet to let Bridget handle it how she wanted. It was strange to see this maternal side to her.
"I'm not lying to you. You are a child. You shouldn't even know curse words or say things like god forbid." Bridget scolded harshly. Meg's demeanour shrank back into that of a pouting little kid.
"Whatever, then it is garbage. How can I not be afraid when I don't know anything?"
Bridget's eyes softened as she cupped her little sister's face in her hands, "Look at me. You are not going to die."
She wriggled out of her sister's arms back to mine.
"At least Jacob is honest with me." Megan shot back. My lips parted slightly, not really sure what to say or if I should speak at all. Bridget's jaw clenched tightly.
"I think we should go back to the house." Bridget said with a strain in her voice. She was angry. Whether it was with me or her sister, I had yet to find out.
Megan stayed on my back on the walk up to the house, holding on by my neck. It was palpably quiet until I set her on the couch.
"Can I talk you upstairs?" Bridget murmured. I nodded and followed her to her bedroom.
She double checked that she locked the door behind us, paranoid what her sister said. As usual in a stressful situation, she paced before she talked to me. I patiently sat on her bed waiting find out what was going through her head.
"Are you okay?" I asked after a full minute of pacing.
"No," she said blankly, "What happened? Why does she think she's dying? What did you tell her?"
"She just flat out asked me if she was going to die. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to lie, so I said we all die someday. Just don't know when." I explained calmly.
"You can't say that to an eight year old girl, Jacob!" She hissed.
"Are we sure about the age? She didn't talk like she has only had a third grade education." I chuckled. She was not amused.
Her hands were planted firmly on her hips while she waited for me to fix my response. The glare she was giving could burn holes in the wall.
"I'm sorry," I backtracked, "I had never interacted with children before I met you. I don't know how to talk to them. I didn't know how to answer a question like that. She is smart. She can tell that there is a lot of information being kept from her. I can't blame her for being scared when she doesn't know what's happening in her own body."
I understood Megan's fear. While the situations were quite literally worlds apart, I had felt a similar fear at a young age. After I was separated from family, I zero information or control over my future. I was bounced from one dangerous home to another, never told when or where I moving. Not knowing what to expect was almost as bad as the abuse I suffered once I got there.
"What are you trying to say?" She said.
Her stress and fear was masked by anger directed toward the nearest target, which, at this moment, was me. It was easier to be angry than to accept the severity of these circumstances. The bricks I had broken through to make her comfortable with me began to rebuild.
"Nothing. I'm just explaining what happened. I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing." I shrugged. She sat down next to me the bed, looking down at her trembling hands.
"Before she talked to you, she was okay. Now, she thinks she is going to die. What did you say to make her think that?" Her words came out frantic rather than harshly like earlier.
There was a lot on her shoulders. Right now, the weight of it all was crushing her. She was slipping away into the chaos of thoughts.
"The thoughts were already there. She was too scared to ask you." I tried to say it as delicately as I could.
"She is too young to go through this." Her breathing began to quicken. There were no words to comfort her, so I tried to wrap my arms around her. Again, she resisted.
"You're shaking. Let me help you, please."
"No, you've helped enough today. Can you please just go?" She said dryly.
"Bee—" I started.
"Please, go." She begged.
Against my instincts, I left her alone to wallow in her panic. I shouldn't have cared that she was panicking. I shouldn't have been affected. But, if I'm being honest with myself, seeing her in pain affected me in way I hadn't felt before. Leaving her to deal with it alone was harder than it should be for all the wrong reasons.
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This one hurt to write a little. Hope you enjoyed it 🖤
Do you think Jacob should have left or pushed harder to stay?