“I stopped by their apartment one night, to visit, and she was working. You were in your crib, screaming like no baby should be able to, and that asshole was nowhere to be found. He’d left his six-month-old son alone and gone... I didn’t know where.”
A combination of disgust and indignation swept through Zane, souring in his chest and temporarily giving his frustration something new to focus on. “Then what?”
“I changed you, I poured myself a drink, and I sat down to wait. He stumbled in about two hours later, higher than a fucking kite and reeking of vodka. Said you were sleeping, so he just stepped out for a quick drink.”
Zane wanted to askwhat next, but he didn’t want to interrupt.
Granddad didn’t need the prompting. “I told him he had two choices. He could leave right then. Walk out the door and never come back. Never try to find you. Never reach out to your mother again. Vanish completely from your lives. I even handed him the cash he needed, to leave town.”
“What was choice number two?”
“He asked me the same thing.” Granddad’s chuckle held no joy. “I told him he’d vanish either way. He could leave on his own, or no one would see him again, not just the two of you. I wasn’t being facetious. I had the power to make it happen. We did a lot of making people disappear back then, and when it came down to that moment, I didn’t hesitate. There wasn’t a question in my mind I’d do that to him.”
Zane knew the things Granddad did in Russia were questionable. Not just from history, but from the distant, haunted look the old man got in his eyes when the subject came up. Still, Zane hadn’t expected this. The honesty and reality of it left him feeling raw. Exposed. And at the same time grateful. “I’m glad you made him go.”
“I’m not.” Granddad shook his head. “I was too, but I’ve doubted myself so many times since. Don’t misunderstand, I was glad he was gone. I regret I didn’t let your mother make the decision herself. It was my job to protect you both, but I never should have taken that choice from her. I wouldn’t have risked you, but she was smart; she would have made the right call. Especially once I told her what I found when I stopped by your home that day. I needed to trust her, and I didn’t.”
The story spun in Zane’s head, insisting he pay attention. Snarling at him to do more than just stash it as a story about his past. He pushed it aside, unwilling to consider it meant more. “I think you were right. I came out okay because of it.”
“I’m pretty lucky there. As long as you’re not taking this CIA job for the wrong reasons. Anyway, he would have been gone from your lives regardless, soon enough. Even then, those of us who left the country on a regular basis saw the motherland crumbling, the union falling apart as the Americans bought their way to the forefront of the cold war. I looked at the world around me, the things I’d done, the things about to happen, and I took all of us and bought us into this country.”
Zane suspected that much, though he was vague on the details. He knew he wasn’t born in the US and it came up when he enlisted, but beyond a mention here and there, it had never caused him any issues.
Granddad sighed. “I didn’t leave my past behind, though. I conducted terrible acts under banner ofcountry. But I did two things right. I made sure your mother and you made it as far as you did. That doesn’t erase my sins, but it helps me atone for them.”
Zane knew that feeling more intensely than he wanted to. Except he hadn’t done it in the name of patriotism, he’d done it because it was fun. A challenge. “I don’t think my reasons were as noble as yours.”
“Would you do it again?”
“No.” The answer hit Zane hard. Despite the phone call he placed that morning, he couldn’t, and he wouldn’t.
“Then it’s behind you, and now you live right. You let Riley help. I won’t lay a guilt trip on you about not throwing away what I gave you. It’s your life. But I will be angry if you take it for granted.”
It wasn’t that simple. Zane didn’t have any illusions about flipping a switch and being okay with what had happened. But he couldn’t find the words to argue. “Yes, Sir.”
They chatted for a while longer, about random banal things. The weather. Sports. Politics. But Zane couldn’t focus on the conversation. Too many thoughts warred for his attention. When he left, he felt like he had more answers and more questions than ever before.
He did know one thing, though. He sent Sabrina a quick text as he walked back to his truck.
My final answer’s no. Don’t ask again. At least that was one right decision.