Chapter Three
Ana
The emotional football Luke and I have played for days works against Kurt. I don’t even like games. I’m done playing them with Luke. I’m not playing them with him. What I desire is the elusive thing called happiness, that I haven’t known in the two years I’ve been apart from Luke. Now that he’s back in my life, I don’t intend to let either one of us die. That means I need answers, and it’s answers I seek from Kurt now. I decide it’s time to approach him not as my ex-stepfather because he is no one I will ever call family again, but rather as a witness.
Unfortunately, that means playing mental games. When it’s put that way, perhaps, I like games more than I thought I did.
Now is the time for me to not only back him into a corner of his own making but to hold him there. That just happens to translate into me calling his bullshit and cornering him, to tell the truth. “Kasey was alive when you supposedly died,” I remind him. “Surely, they, whoever they are, used me as leverage against him. That downgrades your story to a big, fat lie. You disappeared to protect yourself, not me.”
“Leverage only works, honey, if the person cares about what’s being leveraged. I’m not going to sugarcoat this, because that’s not what you want from me or anybody. Kasey only cared about Kasey.”
There it is. More emotional football.
Of course, I’ve come to terms with how little I meant to Kasey, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
Kurt saying it, and saying it that brutally, jolts me clear to the soul.
He might as well have stabbed me in my bleeding, sisterly heart, but somehow, I manage to contain an outward reaction. My gaze is steady, and my hand steadier. I don’t so much as blink. I don’t take his bait and that’s what it was, but I do return the favor. I bait him. “I’m back to the only thing in this conversation I know to be true. You ran. You hid. You were too scared to stand and fight.”
His expression transforms into what I call his “angry bull face” normally reserved for combat drills. But then, perhaps this is the verbal version of just that. His lips pull tight, his jawline stretched, a tight knot of muscle bunched up just above his molars. “I didn’t run or hide,” he replies, and to his credit, despite his physical reaction, he manages a rather matter-of-fact tone.
“Ouch,” I say. “Hit a nerve much? Come on, Kurt. You ran. You hid. Or you’re lying. Which is it?”
In a poorly timed return, and just when I have Kurt where I want him, about to break, Adam reappears with a rope in hand. “We doing this or not?”
Kurt casts him a lazy, uninterested look that is anything but those things. He’s assessing him, assessing the room. Trying to find a way to take control, which cannot happen. Not now. Not ever again. His attention turns to me, his expression cooled, his temper banked, his focus now razor-sharp on the one real obstacle in the room, which is me. If he wins me over, if he earns my trust, he wins the room.
“Everything I did, I did to protect you,” he repeats softening his voice, ensuring it’s for my ears only. “You have to know that.”
I’m actually surprised at his return to the same thing, over and over.
I’m protecting you, Ana.
I did it for you, Ana.
He watches me for a reaction. My returned stare is a mix of bored and cynical, both of which he apparently reads as he abandons our connection, and turns his attention to Adam. “We’re doing this,” he says, in what appears to signal his acceptance of his failure, and retreat, at least for now. He cannot win me over.
Adam glances at me for the confirmation that I readily offer him. “Please tie him up but don’t forget that he’s a killer who trained people like Savage. No one, and I mean no one, is a better killer than Kurt.”
Savage steps forward, all big and mighty, in that over-the-top Savage way of his, clears his throat, and in what I’m coming to know as his typical dopey self, predictably says, “I’m up for that challenge. Bring it big daddy bear. Let’s get grisly.”
My eyes meet Kurt’s steely stare and I say, “Please don’t make him kill you before I have the chance.”
“I don’t believe you’ll kill me,” Kurt replies. “I raised you. I’m your father.”
He goes all in on the blast from the past, that was, from what I can tell, nothing but a lie in the first place.
“All you are to me right now is the man who lied to me and held a gun to my head. You might also be someone who has the answers I need. Maybe you’ll decide to give them to me after you sit tied to a chair long enough.” I start walking toward the kitchen where a stairwell leads to the second level of the house. I don’t look back. He didn’t, not until something forced him to do otherwise, and I absolutely believe that’s what’s happening right now.
He didn’t choose to return. He was forced to return.
And if we don’t find out why fast enough, we will all die.
And no matter what, we need to take Kurt’s advice. In his own words, no matter who they are, if they give you a reason to believe they’re the enemy, they’re the enemy. Kurt’s our enemy. We cannot forget that. That’s when a realization hits me. I turned off the security system when we arrived to allow us to enter The Ranch. What if Kurt isn’t alone? I dash toward the hallway behind the kitchen, cut right, and enter the security booth. With fast hands, I flip on the security system, movement alarms, and cameras. I stand there and scan the feed. Finally, I determine all is calm.
But it really does feel like the calm before the storm.
Or maybe I should say life before death.
And a new reality where Kurt lives and we all die.