“Thank God.” My shoulders slumped, a heavy weight easing from them. Everyone I loved was safe, at least for now. I was even more grateful Sloane didn’t usually come to these dinners. If she’d been here, I don’t know what I would have done.
“Way, you need to get Finn out of here. He’s even more of a priority after what just happened.”
I thought for sure I was about to see a different kind of explosion. But, she surprised me by saying, “I’m taking him to a safe house. Find this guy, Duncan, and don’t you dare get dead in the process.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He nodded to Wes. “Get them outta here.”
Waverly took my hand as we followed my bodyguard through a maze of people and rubble. It could have been worse, I reminded myself each time I caught a glimpse of a tear-streaked face or one of my employees with blood staining their clothes. It could’ve been so much worse. Buildings could be rebuilt; lives couldn’t. We’d recover, not just as a company, but as a community, because that’s what this tragedy made us; a community of survivors.
It took longer than I thought it would to make it outside. Flashing lights from more fire trucks and ambulances than I could count lit up the front of the property. Men and women in uniform raced around, some carrying large hoses while others knelt down to care for the injured. The scene sent chills down my spine.
“This way,” Wes called over his shoulder, leading us away from the rescue crews. “I had them wait by the limo.”
We rounded the back of the building, had the limo within sight when Waverly stopped dead in her tracks. I should’ve been paying closer attention to the fact Joel andNoreen were nowhere to be seen. Maybe then I would’ve noticed the handgun pointed straight at us.
“What are you doing, Wes?” Her voice was calm and unshaking; the complete opposite of what my insides were feeling.
“Finishing what I started.”
“You’re behind the threats? Why?”
None of it made sense. Before Wes was hired, Joel ran a thorough background check. Nothing came back suspicious; the opposite, in fact. He was a heavily decorated soldier who left the military after twelve years of service.
“Cain Lewis.”
“Who?”
The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Not until Waverly reminded me.
“He’s the leader of that group, the Sons of Adam.”
“And my father,” Wes announced with a wicked grin.
The pieces started to click into place. Lachlan Industries had a rigorous process for interviewing and choosing potential candidates for the new prosthetics. After the meeting at the FBI office, I had Joel look into Cain Lewis’s file. He’d been denied because the psychiatrist felt his mental health was too unstable. Apparently, those traits ran in the family. What I didn’t understand was how we never found Wes's connection to Lewis. That was a pretty huge thing to miss.
“I see you’re confused, Finn.” He chuckled. “Let me help you out. He’s not the man listed on my birth certificate. My mother kept me from him. It wasn’t until I’d been working for you for a few years that he finally found me.”
“There are other prosthetic companies out there. He could’ve easily gone to one of them.”
“You don’t get it. You have no idea what his life is like.” He became more agitated with each word he spoke. “Phantom limb pain is worse than anything you could ever imagine, but your technology could’ve changed everything.”
“We don’t even know yet whether the interface will be enough to trick the brain. It’s only speculation at this point. There’s a big possibility that the people in the study will still experience some form of phantom limb pain.”
“Anything would be better than the hell he’s living through now,” he yelled.
Waverly took a half a step closer to me, giving my hand a firm squeeze. Her gesture was a not-so-subtle warning to quit pissing off the madman with the weapon. I shut my mouth and listened while Wes continued to rant. The longer he talked, the more of his deception was revealed. He was the one who tried to steal the software with the design specs. When that failed, he switched to scare tactics. Then everything changed.
“He took his own life last week because he couldn’t handle the pain anymore.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Wes,” I offered. “But that has nothing to do with me.”
He raised the gun higher. His finger twitched against the trigger as he aimed it directly at my chest. Waverly reacted immediately, trying to draw his attention to her.
“How about you put the gun down, Wes, so we can talk about all this.”
“I don’t think so, Agent Mitchell.” His gaze shifted, but the gun did not. “We do need to move this shindig to another location though. I didn’t anticipate having to dispose of two bodies. Let’s take a little walk down to the river.”
“FBI, drop the gun, Wes. Do it now.”
