Ten Thousand Lies (6 page)

Strangely, I found myself wondering what my life would have been like if David Malcolm had been my father.

After I settled myself onto an uncomfortable kitchen chair, Ronen cleaned my right forearm and shaved off the hair. He had something in his head he’d sketch on before inking it into my skin. I trusted his vision. He’d make something I’d be proud to wear.

“So, what should we do whenever we end up where we’re going?” he asked me, leaning over my arm with a marker.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“Well, I was thinking…I could use an apprentice. We could open up a tattoo shop, and I could teach you how to fucking tattoo.”

“Seriously?” I breathed.

Ronen looked up at me from behind his round specs. “Yeah, man. You’re a fucking brilliant artist. It’ll take some training, but I think you’d be an awesome tattooist.”

Hope exploded in my chest. My whole life, I had loved the craft. Even when I was a little kid, I had thought tattoos were just the most amazing thing ever, that people could actually change their skin to suit their idea of themselves. I’d thought the men and women who created such walking masterpieces were close to divine creatures.

“Fuck yeah, man.”

Ronen grinned. “Good.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes as he doodled on me when there came a scratching at the front door. Ronen paused, and we both tensed, hearing the scraping of the key in the lock. The click of it turning was deafening. Ronen and I jumped to our feet, pulling out our pieces.

I hoped, one day, I wouldn’t be this fucking paranoid.

Deo appeared, carrying a few packages. Behind him…Xanthe, Rex, and David came traipsing in.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Ronen, stowing his gun back in his holster.

Deo scowled. “I found them at the funeral service.”

“Aw, were you sad to think we were dead?” I asked, grinning, putting away my piece.

“Yes,” replied Xanthe. Dropping a knapsack to the floor, she marched herself over to me and gave me a hug. “You promised you’d help Rex, that you wouldn’t leave him.”

Stunned, it took me a second to hug her back. She smelled really good. Tasty. Like a cinnamon roll or something. When she pulled back, I took in her black attire. Nothing fancy. Black denim and a button-down blouse.

Rex looked ready to cry.

“It’s all right, man,” I softly told him.

Ronen finally moved his arse and walked around to pull Rex into a hug. “You doing all right?” he asked the kid.

Rex only managed to nod, his throat working hard to rein in the emotional overflow.

I looked to Deo, and he shrugged at me, but I could see the fire in his eyes. After Ronen and I split, he’d be watching out for Rex and Xanthe. Even if we didn’t ask, he’d do it on his own.

“His initial blood work came back clean,” said David. “It doesn’t seem like he’s been exposed to anything, which is very lucky.”

Deo grunted.

“He’s on the antivirals still,” Xanthe mentioned, watching Deo. She turned to me. “If Rex is going with you, I want in, too.”

“Xanthe, you’re not going to become a thug,” stated David.

“Jeez, thanks, man,” snorted Deo. “We’re not just thugs, you know. I happen to be a damn fine barber.”

“Well, good for you, Sweeney Todd,” snapped Xanthe.

Deo’s jaw dropped. Turning to David, he said, “I think I’m in love with your daughter.”

“Good luck with that,” David drawled. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

His eyes sought me out, and I straightened my spine.

“The people Max has been in contact with have gotten in touch with me—”

“What?” I weakly asked him.

“How do you know anything about any of that?” asked Ronen.

“It’s not important, relevant, or up for discussion. Just know that you can trust me. You can trust all of us.”

Opening a shoulder bag hanging from his tall frame, David pulled out two large manila envelopes. “New travel documents, and in your case, Jamey, a new identity. I’m advising you to change your appearance as best as you can, which you seem to be doing an admirable job of already. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to take headshots for your new passports. Jamey, your brother has left you some paperwork. It’s very important you read through all of it and make sure no one else gets their hands on the information, all right?”

“What the fuck is going on?” whispered Ronen.

“You boys will be shipping out to Amsterdam in three days. From there, you will be contacted—”

“Amsterdam?” Ronen’s voice sounded strangled. “Why
Amsterdam
?”

“Because that’s where they are.”

“Just who the hell are
they
?” demanded Deo.

David ignored him.

Rex was silent. Xanthe went and slipped her arm around his waist, and in turn, he tightly hugged her, burying his face in her bushy hair. I still had no idea what they were to each other. He had said they were best friends, but there was more to it than that.

“Is he okay?” Ronen whispered to David.

“He wants to go with you, and I told him no.”

“Rex, man…you’re too young,” I said.

“He has to finish school,” said David. “I’ve promised to send him once he’s done. Xanthe will be at university. He’s going to need friends then. She’ll be quite busy.”

“I can go to school in Amsterdam,” Xanthe said stubbornly. “Aunt Ellen would let us stay with her.”

“Yes, Xanthe, but we’ve already discussed this, too. You’re going to bloody Oxford. After that, you can do whatever the hell you want.”

Xanthe grumbled something into Rex’s chest, and David rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Deo mentioned to Rex. “I’m here for you, brother. And, really, it’s best if these two go out and get their shit straight before you up and join their cause, yeah? Two more years, and trust me, it’s going to be over before you know it.”

“Yeah,” said Rex quietly.

I walked up to David and took the envelopes. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for bringing home my son.”

Rex sniffed.

Doesn’t he realize that’s how David feels about him? Or does he just find it hard to believe anyone could love him that much?

“So, what really happened after you left us?” asked Xanthe.

“My father was about to have us executed. My brother saved us and killed our father,” I replied.

“So, the whole Fraser thing…” said Xanthe.

“Eliminating competition. They’d have just picked up the reins if Max had done nothing.”

With a frustrated sigh, Deo threw himself onto the old couch.

“What?” I asked.

“How are you so comfortable with telling these people all this?” he demanded.

I shrugged. “I just am. David obviously knows a hell of a lot more than we suspected.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough,” David informed us.

Ronen took a seat in the living room. “So, what now? We just sit around until the papers are ready? Do you know who’s contacting us?”

“You’ll get the instructions when your passports are brought back. It goes without saying that all of this is strictly confidential.”

“What about her?” Deo rudely asked, pointing at Xanthe. “What’s to stop her from running her mouth to her school friends?”

Rex snapped, “I am her fucking school friend, asshole! Leave her alone.”

“Xanthe’s loyalty will never be in question,” said David with a smirk. “We’ll be seeing you tomorrow?”

“What time?” asked Deo.

“I’ll have Xanthe or Rex call you when we’re leaving Oxford.”

“Not you?” Deo was all over this shit.

“No.”

“You’ve changed your number already,” I stated.

David grinned. “Come on,” he said to Rex and Xanthe. “I’m starving.”

Xanthe flipped Deo the bird, and in return, he gave her a wolfish smile. Unable to help herself, she snorted a laugh. I had a feeling those two were going to end up good friends, if for nothing else than to have some spice in their lives.

Releasing her hold on Rex, Xanthe made her way to Ronen and gave him a hug. Then, it was my turn again. I held on to her warmth and her cinnamon-roll scent, feeling the comfort she was giving me. By some sort of instinct, I knew she’d never betray her loved ones.

And we were lucky enough to be added to her short list.

Ricki

“Here,” said Deo, tossing a small box in my lap.

We were waiting for David to show up with Rex and Xanthe to take my and Ronen’s new passport photos. After more than a week of being cooped up in Deo’s uncle’s place, we were itching to get this shit on the road.

“Open it,” snapped Deo.

Tearing at the cardboard, I opened the package to find…“Contacts?”

“You need to change your eye color. People will know who you are with those fucking peepers. I just thought it might be smart.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Sluggishly moving off the couch, I headed into the bathroom. Fuck, you could tell three dudes had been camping in here. Deo was a bit of a clean freak, and Ronen liked to drop his shit anywhere he pleased. Quickly, I tossed the used towels over the shower rod and wiped the sink down with a bit of toilet paper.

I scrubbed my hands and then opened the box, taking out a pair of the colored contacts.

“How the fuck…” Reading the instructions on the back of the box, I got the gist of what I was supposed to do. However, doing it was proving to be a fucking mission. After the fourth or fifth time of fucking poking my right eye, I roared profanities at the box.

Deo was laughing his arse off when I looked back up in the mirror.

“Do you wear these fucking things?” I asked Deo.

“I do,” piped a sweet voice from next to Deo. Xanthe’s head popped into view in the mirror. “Need help?”

Making me take a seat on the toilet, she washed her hands and cleaned the contact I’d been abusing my eyeball with. Xanthe then turned to me, gently held open my eye with her left hand, and touched the contact lens to my iris.

“Fucking hell. Will it always feel like a shard of glass in my eye?”

“It takes some getting used to,” she said. “Just make sure you take them out every night.”

She did the same for the left eye. Blinking rapidly, I’d never wanted to claw at my eyes more in my entire life.

“Come on. Dad’s setting everything up to take the photos.”

Looking up at her, I asked quietly, “Why are you guys helping us?”

Xanthe shrugged. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Your dad though…”

Her face wiped clean of all emotion, and I was a little stunned by how quickly her mask fell into place.

“He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t feel the same way.”

“What does he do? Who is he working for?”

“He’s an archaeologist and a professor at Oxford University.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out.

Deo arched an eyebrow and watched her go. “You’re telling me when you find out, you know that, right?”

I nodded and stood. Looking in the mirror, my new brown eyes stared back at me. Deo was right. They completely changed my appearance. With my face sporting the short beard, I doubted my own mother could identify me.

Out in the living room, Ronen and Rex had hung up a clean white canvas against one wall and placed a stool before it.

David was setting up a camera on a tripod about five feet from the stool. “Let’s not waste any time here,” he said. Looking up at me from his bent position over the camera, he smiled. “Well, well, well, I hardly recognize you.”

“That’s the point, right?” I asked.

“Indeed.”

Taking off his glasses, Ronen plopped his arse down on the stool. Since there was no one left alive who could identify Ronen as Jamey Godwin’s friend, the only precaution being taken was a switch of nationality from his Irish passport to a British one. He didn’t even have to change his name. David looked through the lens and made some adjustments, and then he snapped several photos.

Turning his face toward me, he said, “Next.”

Ronen hopped off, and I took the stool. Staring straight into the camera, I couldn’t help but wonder if we were going to be able to pull this off.

What the hell is waiting for us in Amsterdam? Max wouldn’t send me to my death, not after everything we’ve just gone through.

It broke my heart to think that he could, but he’d convinced me so easily that he was going to take my life.

He set this whole fucking thing up!
He’s been going behind my back since Ronen and I went to Amsterdam to save Ronen’s sister. And who the hell are these shady-ass people, the ones David Malcolm has connections with?

Shit was just getting more and more bizarre by the fucking minute.

“You’re done,” said David, straightening up. “If I leave now, I can have your new passports ready by this evening.”

“Who are you taking the photos to?” asked Deo.

David shrugged. He wasn’t going to tell us.

“Fine. Be that way,” grunted Deo.

David packed up the camera and tripod while Rex and Xanthe took down the white canvas.

“Come on, guys. If we’re going to have this done in time—”

I interrupted David, “They can chill here with us until you come back. It’s not like we’ve got anywhere to be.”