A Glimmer of Hope (The Avalon Chronicles #1)(9)
“Do you want to read it?” Chloe asked.
Layla tore it in half and placed it on the table. “I want nothing from him,” she said. “I don’t care how he’s doing, or what he feels about me. He’s the closest thing to evil I’ve ever met. He’s in a jail cell, in solitary for ninety percent of the day, only allowed out when there are no other prisoners around. That’s where he deserves to be. I get another letter from him at Christmas. And one on my birthday. Three letters a year, all with that stamp.”
Chloe looked at the stamp. “At least this proves he’s still where he’s meant to be.”
Layla nodded. “That stamp right there is something Tabitha from the FBI promised would be on every letter he sends. If that’s there, I know he’s still in his cell, far away from me and anyone I care about. All of his letters go to her first, so I know I can breathe a little easier.”
“The FBI are the ones dealing with this? I didn’t realize they dealt with prisoners.”
Layla sighed. “Yeah, I have no idea why either. Tabitha told me it’s because my dad used to work for them. I don’t really care who keeps an eye on him, but the FBI seems to be good at keeping him where he’s meant to be.”
“Is he in the UK?”
She shook her head. “He’s somewhere in the USA. My mom was British, and I have dual citizenship—it’s why we moved to the UK after it all kicked off over there. Besides, there’s an ocean between me and my father. Which makes me feel better.”
“You think he’d come after you?”
“No, I was never his target. He was nothing but a perfect father to me, a perfect facade of a father. I think that’s why it hurts so much; he was able to lie to my face about the kind of person he is. I was living in a blissful ignorance until one morning at 3 a.m., when a task force smashed the front door to our house down.” She thought back to that night, as a nearly fourteen-year-old girl cowered under her bed because she thought bad men had come to hurt her family. One more thing she hated about her father. What he’d done had caused that. Another thing to never forgive him for.
“Sorry,” Layla said, picking up their cups. “I’m being all down. You want another drink?”
“Tea, please.” Chloe followed her to the kitchen, leaning up against the doorframe as Layla boiled the kettle. “Did I ever tell you about my mum?”
Layla spooned coffee into her mug and dropped a green tea bag in Chloe’s. “I know she’s in jail.”
“My mother spent most of my life putting me in harm’s way to ingratiate herself with people she desperately wanted to impress. She put me in dangerous situations three times from the age of thirteen to seventeen, and was personally responsible for me almost dying on one of those occasions. Once, she also made it look like I’d been kidnapped, and is directly responsible for the murder of my father. My mother is frankly the most awful human being I’ve ever met, so if you ever need to talk about your dad, you never need to tell me you’re being down. Just talk. We could compare notes on crazy parents if you like.”
Layla chuckled. “It sounds like we’d be here for a long time.”
“Don’t ever think like you can’t talk to me, or that I might judge you. Last night I beat the shit out of a bloke for trying to hurt you. I think it’s safe to say I’m nonjudgmental.”
After they’d finished their drinks, Chloe had to go home to see how the coffee shop was doing, and Layla needed to get ready for work. She felt better after talking to Chloe. She hadn’t shared everything, and had no intention of ever doing so, but knowing that she could if she ever wanted to made her feel more relieved than she’d ever imagined it would.
4
Elias Wells had been in England for five days, and had done nothing with the information he’d been given. He didn’t want to hurry anything, and liked to get used to his new surroundings before starting a job. He didn’t want to have to rush out, or try to evade anyone, without knowing the area where he’d be working. That just made sense to him.
So, for the last five days he’d scouted the area, taking photographs of the house he needed to get into. He’d made sure it was empty before breaking in the first time, quickly opening a downstairs window before climbing inside. It was nice to do a dry run, and he soon familiarized himself with the layout of the two-story, three-bedroom house.
There weren’t any photos of the target, which he did find slightly strange, but then it was strange enough that she’d been completely off the grid since her father had been arrested, only now deciding to apply for a credit card. Elias guessed it was because she’d assumed she was safe. He tried to remember that saying about assuming things but couldn’t, and decided it probably wasn’t worth remembering anyway.
He stayed in the house for an hour, before leaving it in exactly the same shape as when he’d arrived. He walked into the woods behind the house, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be about and wonder what he was doing. About fifty feet from the house, and after being satisfied he was alone, he climbed a huge conifer tree and sat on one of the large branches to wait.
The needles were annoying and he had to flick off more than his fair share of bugs, but his position let him watch the rear of the house with a good assurance that those inside, and those living nearby, couldn’t see him. Unfortunately, Elias had no way of really knowing who had arrived home. If it was a large group, he’d rather not have to kill a bunch of people to get to just one. He thought about it for a while and decided that if that was the case, he’d have to come back tomorrow, but he was hopeful that he’d be able to get the job done quickly and go back to America in the private jet waiting for him.