Actually, I’m not exactly sure what I will be doing or how I will be aiding Imogen, the doctor Preston told me I’m under. I’m just anxiously pulling things out of my ass, hoping I sound professional and pushing the narrative.
“I respect that. You’ll find that Preston and I value honesty. Speaking of, how did the process with Preston go? He didn’t scare you away, so I’m taking that as a good sign.”
“Scare me away, no.” I breathe, wiping my clammy hands on my leggings. “But he is calloused. And detached.”
He said he appreciates honesty.
My focus falls on his sad smile. “Have you ever lost someone, Kate?”
My heartbeat drains into my ears. “No.”
I’m lucky to still have both sets of grandparents.
He stares straight ahead, keeping his voice steady. “My son lost his mother and his sister. Everyone heals differently. It’s not a straight path, even when you think you’re just starting to get the hang of grief. And when someone you love dies by a violentdeath they didn’t deserve, it sticks with you. Changes you.” Sounds like he’s speaking from experience.
My blood solidifies to ice in my veins.
If I thought this man was oozing power before, he’s radiating it even stronger now. “You’re his…father?”
Arden Lachlan.
Which means he lost his wife violently…
His daughter.
The emotion whirling in my chest cracks my heart, bringing with it a little more understanding.
“He didn’t mention me when he was hiring you?” He blows out a dark, melancholy laugh.
“I mean, he did. You just,” I land on, “look different than I expected.”
Besides the faint crow’s feet near his eyes and mouth, nothing would give him away that he’s Preston’s father. I mean, I see the similarities now. Arden is handsome. Has aged in a way that makes me wonder if I could be into much older men. His short facial hair has gray woven throughout. His body is still hard and muscular, as if he makes a daily effort to stay fit. Strong. Powerful.
He must have had Preston in hisveryearly twenties.
“So,” he changes the subject. “How did a beautiful thing like you find yourself working for the Irish mafia? It’s not every day you come across a job like this one. And we’re very selective.”
My eyes widen before I think better of it.
Did he say the Irish mafia?
“I—” How the hell do I answer this question? If he’s giving me a second interview, I’m failing miserably.
So, it's not organs. However, I’m unsure if this is any better.
Narcotics.
Money laundering.
Extortion.
Gambling.
Corruption.
How is this my life?
It’s probably a stupid answer, but I settle on it. “Must have been luck, I guess.”
