Chapter Six
Lee Jacks
I stride from Lucian Quinn’s building, pausing as my driver opens the back door of the Rolls Royce Phantom idling quietly at the curb. My temples throb as I settle onto the buttery-soft leather interior. “So?” a voice asks.
I turn to face my right-hand man in both business and personal matters. My brother Peter sits waiting for the results of my meeting. “First off, fire Sears, now.” The fact that I was not informed about Lia’s hospitalization as well as her court appearance against her stepfather is inexcusable. I do not tolerate sloppy work; I pay too fucking well to accept something like that. Without asking questions, he calls the office and hands the order down. One of the reasons Peter and I have always worked well together is that we are able to communicate without an overabundance of words. He knows I don’t make decisions lightly, and he doesn’t second-guess any work-related decision I make. Hell, he’s one of the few people in my life who doesn’t seem terrified of me.
In our lives, it’s always been Peter and me against the world. We were raised for our first ten years by a junkie mother who finally overdosed after years of doing just enough to keep us out of foster care. We never knew our father, and I suspect our mother didn’t either. Although my mother wasn’t physically abusive, the similarities of my childhood to Lia’s are not lost on me. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of a child of mine going through what Quinn said she had. I had always been so careful to ensure I had no children. To me, that was a weakness I didn’t want to risk. Peter, on the other hand, went in the complete opposite direction and wanted the American dream. He has a sweet and loving wife, two children, and a house in an exclusive, gated community where he sits on the homeowners’ board.
He and I have come a long way from surviving on the streets and fending for ourselves. After our mother died, we lived in foster homes until we were sixteen. No one puts much effort into looking for runaways with no family ties. The day Victor Falco caught me stealing scraps from his restaurant kitchen was the day our lives changed forever. The man became the father I’d never had and would go on to show me how successful I could be when the lines between right and wrong were no longer a factor. I would spend years after Victor’s death trying to keep my promise to Peter to leave the shadows I’d been operating in for far too long and return to a life where death or jail weren’t constant dangers.
“Well?” Peter prompts me, breaking through my walk down memory lane. I know he’s impatient for news of Lia. He had been just as shocked as I to learn that I might possibly have a daughter. I was afraid he had even let himself dream of my redemption at the hands of the child I hadn’t known existed.
Before I speak, I take a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and gulp half of it. I tell our driver to take us to the office before raising the privacy glass. “It’s completely fucked, Pete,” I admit, defeated. Whatever I had been expecting from today, it had been nothing like the reality.
“You don’t think Lia is your daughter?” he asks in surprise. We had both seen Lia’s photo that Sears had attached to the report. There had been little doubt in either of our minds as to who her father was from them. Of course, I had confirmed it via DNA testing from a brush and a toothbrush of all things from Lia’s apartment. Luckily, there were plenty of papers in her room with her name on them; otherwise, we would have been testing her roommate’s items, as well. At least Sears had managed to secure what was needed without fucking it up.
“Oh, I’m more certain than ever that she is. What I wasn’t expecting was to find out that her mother had beat the hell out of her all her life and her stepfather had been touching her.” At Peter’s indrawn breath, I pause before adding, “And that she was just released from the hospital after her stepfather attempted to rape and kill her.” I fill him in on everything Lucian had told me, leaving nothing out. Peter and I don’t keep secrets from each other.
When Peter remains silent, I look over to see him sitting stock still, his face ashen. “Oh, no,” he finally chokes out. “Dear God, not her.” He looks physically sick as he drops his head into his hands. Peter and I had seen enough in our lives to never want someone of our own flesh and blood to be subject to something like that. Attempting to get himself back under control, he asks quietly, “What now?” He and I both know I cannot and will not let this go unpunished. Lia might not have a clue that I’m her father, but I will serve justice on her behalf.
“I want Jim Dawson found immediately.”
Peter doesn’t bother to talk about what ifs; he simply asks, “And when we do?”
I know my answer will stun him and it does. “I want to speak to him first, and then I want him handed over to the police.”
“You’re just turning him in?” Peter gapes at me. Maybe I should be insulted that my own brother automatically assumes I’m more likely to end someone’s life than take the legal route, but I know that if this were his daughter, there would be no question of the outcome. “Why would you want for Lia to live her life worrying about him being released at some point?”
“He needs to suffer just as she has, Pete. I don’t want the bastard to be let off that easy. He will sit behind bars and endure the same things he has subjected her to, only worse.” When Peter opens his mouth to speak, I add, “And he’ll never leave there.”
“Lee, even you can’t keep him from being granted parole when they deem his time is up. That’s a big risk to take.”
“I didn’t say he’ll never get parole; I said he’ll never leave there.” He looks at me for a moment, finally seeming to understand what I’m saying. A man like me has friends in every walk of life. Even though I’m an upstanding citizen now, I’m still owed debts by people who won’t think twice about paying them. When I told Quinn that Jim Dawson would never touch her again, I had meant every word.
I drop Peter off at the office before giving my driver another address. When the car stops before a white house with peeling paint and tall grass, I wrinkle my nose in distaste. This area is the old mill village, which is now mostly home to lower-income families and some minor gangs. My usually silent driver looks over his shoulder, clearly confused. “Are you sure this is the correct address, Mr. Jacks? Maybe I misunderstood you.”
“No, this is it, James,” I say resigned. The anger I feel at Maria comes back tenfold as I think of my daughter living here at the mercy of her mother and stepfather. “Go somewhere and have lunch or coffee. I’ll call you when I’m ready to be picked up.” He nods once but still looks nervous. The whole thing would be damn funny if I had it in me to be amused right now. My driver has dropped me off in far more dangerous places than this, but he didn’t have a clue. The only person in the vicinity who needs to be afraid is Maria. Her fucking miserable excuse for a life is going to change forever.
When James drives away, I walk up the overgrown pathway and onto the porch. The boards are loose, and I think fleetingly that I’ll probably kill someone if I finish this day off by falling through one of them. Opening a screen door that is louder than a gunshot, I rap loudly at the door. I am just at the point of knocking again when the door is opened a crack with a security chain in place. A hostile voice snaps, “I don’t have anything else to say to you people. I already told you he isn’t here. Now leave me the fuck alone!” When the door starts to close, I stick my foot in the crack, holding it open. Indignant curses fill the air.
“You either open the door, Maria, or I break it down. One way or another, I’m coming in…now.” There is dead silence for what seems like minutes but is probably only seconds.
“Who are you?” she rasps out, sounding shaken.
Letting out a laugh completely devoid of humor, I say, “I think you know. Now, open the door. It seems you and I have some unfinished business.” I don’t know who is more surprised when she actually does as I ask. She looks like she’s on autopilot when the door swings open and she steps stiffly back. “Lee?”
I’m only mildly surprised she still recognizes me. Other than a few more lines, I still look much the same as I did when I first met her. Unfortunately for her, she barely resembles the girl I once knew; I doubt I would have recognized her on the street had I walked past her. She is thin, pale, and frail looking. Her beautiful blonde hair, which had easily been her best feature, is gone, and now dark hair hangs limply down her back. She looks like someone who has long used and abused drugs. If I didn’t know what I do, I would pity her. Once she had been a beauty. I had been completely taken with her for months before Victor had wanted me to oversee one of his business ventures in South Carolina. I had even pondered taking her with me, but where I was going was no place for a woman, and Victor wanted my head in the game. Therefore, I had broken things off and moved on. There had been no room in my life then for a long-term relationship, and it would have ended eventually. When she starts smoothing her hair self-consciously, I want to tell her not to fucking bother. If she were the most attractive woman on Earth, she would still be ugly to me now. I would look more kindly upon a whore than her. I now know her for the monster she truly is. In answer to her question, I simply say, “Maria.”
“Wh-What are you doing here?” she stutters over the words. She looks around the room as if searching for an escape route. Maybe she isn’t as stupid as I had thought. She looks scared of me, which gives me a perverse feeling of pleasure. Seeing anything close to the desire that used to fill her eyes when we were together, would make me physically ill. I reach back to close the door behind me, wondering if she also thinks the sound of it shutting seems unusually loud.
Turning back to face her, I put my hands in the pockets of my suit pants, rocking on my heels. “Ask yourself, Maria,” I begin idly as if I’m discussing the weather, “what possible reason could I have for seeking you out after all these years?”
She knows; I can see it in the widening of her eyes and sudden paling of her face. Her back stiffens as if preparing to ward off a blow. “I…um, have no clue. We don’t have anything to say to each other. Just…get out.” Her voice wavers on her last words. To someone trained from an early age to detect deceit, she might as well be holding up a guilty sign. From the moment she looked me in the eyes, I could see the truth. If I had any doubt that I was Lia’s father, Maria’s actions in the last few minutes would have given me the answer I needed.
Still not raising my voice, I walk farther into the rundown house, masking the distaste I feel at the shabby, soiled furniture in what I assume is the living room right off the foyer. “It’s a little late to play dumb, Maria. It will only serve to anger me further, if that is even possible.”
After a moment of silence, she pleads, “Lee…I didn’t know. I mean, I named her after you because I loved you so much, but I slept with other people after you left me. I never had her tested and—”
“Stop,” I say quietly, barely holding onto my temper. When she ignores my demand, continuing to rattle off excuses, I snap. I reach her in two strides, wrapping my hand around her throat and lifting her off her feet. “You fucking cunt, don’t you dare continue to lie to me! Even if you did screw others after me, which I certainly believe, you knew the moment she was born. Her face is the mirror image of mine! Admit it, that’s why you named her Lia, because you fucking knew!” Her hands are clawing at mine, trying to loosen my grip on her windpipe. In that moment, I would love to be the type of man to crush a woman. For the pain she has caused my daughter, she doesn’t deserve to draw another breath. I could end her right now, and she would never be found. I want to; God, I want to so bad. I tighten my hand in disgust one more time before dropping her to the floor where she crumbles. “You deserve to die for what you’ve done. You allowed and encouraged your twisted fuck of a husband to lay his hands on her, to touch her. You betrayed her as a mother and as a human being at every corner.”
“No,” she croaks out, trying to protest. She doesn’t bother attempting to get to her feet. Instead, she cowers at mine as if seeking mercy.
“Lie to me again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” I warn her, tired of her denial when we both know the truth.
She begins sobbing, curling into a ball. I look down at the woman I once cared for and feel nothing but hate and revulsion. How can I possibly still be shocked by the evil that lives within some people after seeing so much in my life? A woman who doesn’t care for her child, though, is the dregs of society; my own mother had instilled that in me long ago. “I’m sorry,” she cries repeatedly.
I walk away in disgust, looking out the dirty window that faces the street until I’ve regained control. “Quiet!” I snap, and her sobs stop as suddenly as they had started. No doubt another ploy to deceive me. “Someone will come back within the hour to pick you up and take you to the police station. You will have a chance for one tiny scrap of redemption by going to the police today and recanting your earlier testimony about Lia and your husband. You will corroborate every word Lia said in that courtroom and also add any relevant testimony of your own concerning your time with Jim Dawson.”
“Bu…But, they’ll lock me up for lying on the stand,” she protests, shaking her head.
Kneeling, I take her chin in a grasp that is filled with barely restrained fury. “And I give a fuck about what happens to you about as much as you gave a fuck about my daughter. You’ll give your statement, and you had better not miss a single fucking detail. I’ll have someone privy to every word you say, so you can rest assured I’ll know if you try to screw me over. When and if they release you, you’ll be relocated permanently. You will never return to North Carolina, or to any of the states surrounding it. If you do, I’ll end you. Don’t mistake my leniency for kindness. You’re the mother of my child no matter how pathetic you have been at the job.”
“Why can’t I just leave now?” she pleads. “The police aren’t going to believe me.”
I shake my head in wonder. “Still the same selfish bitch to the bitter end, aren’t you? Just when I think you can’t possibly fall further in my eyes, you manage to prove me wrong. I’ve known the worst scum of the Earth, and yet somehow you make them look like pillars of the community. You really would not lift one hand willingly to help your daughter, would you?” For a moment, I think I see a small flicker of shame flit across her face, but it’s gone so fast I’m not sure if it was ever there. Still holding her face, I carefully enunciate each word. “YOU WILL DO AS I SAY OR WHAT THE POLICE MAY DO TO YOU WILL PALE IN COMPARISION TO WHAT I’M CAPABLE OF.” I give her a moment for my words to sink in before shaking her chin and asking, “Now, have I been completely clear with you?”
“Yes,” she whispers as what looks like the first genuine tear she’s shed since I’ve been here slips down her cheek. I drop my hold on her, feeling the need to wash my hands.
I take out my phone, calling Peter and arranging for him to come immediately. While we’re waiting for him, I take a chair from the kitchen and sit next to where she is now lying on the floor, slumped with defeat. Looking at my watch, I’m irritated to realize that so much of my afternoon has been wasted here dealing with someone I’ve come to loathe almost overnight. “Now, Maria, I need to know one last thing. Where is your husband?” The smile I give her seems to chill her to her very bones.