Page 21 of Redemption

The security radio at Jay’s hip comes alive with chatter. Jay frowns and turns up the volume, listening in. I pause my search through old paperwork related to the warehouse theft to eavesdrop. When I hear two names I recognize, I release a long breath.Charles and Opal Van de Berg.

“Why are they here?” I gather everything on the island and stuff the papers into an oversized envelope. “And why are they heretogether?” They were on the cusp of divorce last time I talked to them.

“I’m guessing they finally caught wind of the explosion at the hotel.” Jay goes to the door. “Want me to get rid of them?”

My mother hasn’t done anything to incur my wrath, but my father’s meddling in both the family arms business after he retired and my personal life is part of the reason I’m in my current situation. Still, they are my parents. Even if I don’t need them for practical reasons anymore, I have a hard time turning them away.

“No. Let them in.” I go to the back of the house to dump the envelope on my bed. I double-check Lucas is still napping and return to the living room to find Jay getting them drinks.

I emerge from the hallway into the gray-and-white open kitchen and living room. “This is a surprise.”

My mother scans me from head to toe and lands at the cast. “Are you okay?”

I hold up my arm. “This was two weeks ago. I’m coping fine.”

“We just heard about the bomb.” My father grumbles from his seat on the couch while he nurses his whiskey. “You should have called us.”

“There’s probably a reason I didn’t.” Neither of them makes a situation less volatile. My mother is prone to anxiousness and my father to rash decisions.

“Carys,” my mother admonishes me. “No matter what mistakes we’ve made, we love you.”

“How’s my grandson?” My father searches the room and rises from his seat. “I’d like to see him.”

My heart kicks. So many emotions are tied to my father’s connection with Lucas. I wouldn’t have my son if my father hadn’t deceived me. I will never regret Lucas, but the way the situation played out with my ex-fiancé, Eric, and the Russian surrogacy behind my back, will never sit right with me. “He’s sleeping.”

“Maybe we’ll stay for a while,” my mother suggests. She has a glass of wine clutched in her hand. “I’d love to meet him.”

“He has long naps,” I say. “So, you came here to… check up on me?” If that’s true, I’m touched by the gesture, though it’s out of character for both of them. At forty-six, I’m not a kid anymore. My parents, who are both in their seventies, are still spry and look younger than they should thanks to cosmetic interventions. Not that I can fault them—I inherited a double dose of vanity.

“You were injured. You could have been killed. Of course we came.” My mother perches on the couch as far away from my father as possible. “We lost your brother. We don’t want to lose you too.”

All the times they haven’t shown up for me run in a loop. I’ve been in Cape Verde for months and neither has visited. Granted, I made it clear to my father he wasn’t welcome. He also didn’t visit me during my not-so-brief stint in prison. My mother could have come, but the last time I spoke to her, she was rattled by the confrontation with her daughter from her first marriage. She left her abusive husband to marry my father, leaving her very young daughter. She’s not the mother of the year.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.” I hover in the kitchen behind the island.

“Just you, Lucas, Jay, and his family?” My father peers over the back of the couch at me.

He’s unbelievable. Lena is here, which he knows because she told him she was finished as his mistress and done working at the house in Switzerland. I clench my jaw. “Just us.” Hopefully, Lena’s nap is a long one. My mother doesn’t enjoy being confronted with my father’s indiscretions. She must not realize Lena is here.

“How has everything been going on the island?” My mother’s voice is cheery and bright.

I frown. She’s not the cheery sort. “We’ve had setbacks, like a bomb going off, but we’re handling the issues.”

“Still flying to America every month to visit convicted felons?” The ice in my father’s glass clinks as he takes a drink.

A sigh of exasperation almost escapes, but I tamp it down. “So nice that you both came all this way. I hope you booked a hotel. Since we weren’t aware you were coming, we’ve got meetings and other things scheduled. Not much time to visit.”

My mother shoots my father a look loaded with meaning, but he takes another drink and only raises his eyebrows. Whatever they agreed to discuss with me, he’s not going along with it.

“Have you pinpointed who planted the bomb?” She picks at her skirt, her shoulders tense.

“Not yet,” Jay says from his position near the door. “Why?”

“Oh, well.” She glances in my direction. “I was at a fundraiser with Hagen Volkov’s latest mistress, and she mentioned your name.” She takes a deep breath. “And Finn. Your father”—she throws out a hand at him—“also heard something interesting the other day.”

He downs the last of his drink and rises from the couch, approaching the island where I’m standing. “I was at an arms meeting, and someone told me the PLA had developed an interest in acquiring Finn Donaghey.”

I laugh and hope it hides my thumping heart. “He’s in prison, so obtaining him would be difficult, to say the least.”

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