Page 3 of Vicious Souls

I give my father a cautious sideways glance. There’s no telling what he’s up to now. He never insists on me doing anything on my own.

“What’s really going on here?” I ask him. “You can send anyone to watch the Murrays until we have eyes on the boy. Why me?”

“We can’t afford any mistakes with this.”

I lower my eyes to the fireplace and watch as the flames lick at the wood, their bright hues dancing against my face. It’s times like this I miss having my brother around. In truth, I’m not cut out for this world. I was not built the way my father was, the way my brother had been. Sure, I’d had to learn, from the bottom up, but that didn’t mean I belonged in this world. That had been my brother Rollo’s dream. Before he’d been shot down in a hail of bullets at a gas station. That’s what had brought me home. My brother’s death and my father’s insistence that I had to come home and take my brother’s place, otherwise we’d lose everything. My father had guilted me into coming back. He had needed a right hand man he could trust, and that someone had been me. I’d had to give up my own dreams and aspirations to fill the massive shoes my brother had left behind.

“When?” I ask, looking up at my father.

“As soon as possible, Dante. You have to find the boy.”

2

KINGSLEY

Hospitals are eerily quiet in the dead of night. So quiet they almost mimic a deserted tomb. I follow close behind Tate and another man as I’m escorted to my father’s room. It’s not lost on me that there are guards stationed at every corner we turn and any nurses we encounter shrink away in fear as we pass them.

“I see my family’s presence still works a charm,” I snort, somewhat resentfully, my steps faltering.

“People are scared of what they don’t understand.”

Tate turns back and motions with his chin for me to keep walking.

“Is it really necessary for all this security?” I ask. “He’s probably not even checked in with his own name.”

“Safety measures, Kingsley. One can’t be too careful. It’s this room,” Tate says, coming to a stop in front of a room sandwiched in between two others. It is the room furthest from the lifts, closest to the fire exits, and nowhere near the corner rooms which would have had a spectacular view but provide less security with the wraparound windows.

Tate steps into the room and looks toward the bed. The old man is sleeping soundly, a priest by his side.

“You should wake him,” Tate says, standing by the door. “He’s anxious to see you.”

The priest rises and walks across the room toward the door, nodding once in my direction. There is a click behind him, and I turn to see the door close; both men have left and I am now alone with my father. For a long moment, I regard the ageing man from across the room, then take a few tentative steps toward the bed, where I stand spellbound by his image. He has always seemed larger than life, and now he’s immobile, reduced to a hospital bed.

“What took you so long?” The old man opens one eye, then the other, then shoots me a soft smile.

“You’re awake.”

“Why are you surprised? The priest wouldn’t shut up until I pretended to be asleep.”

I chuckle and take his hand in my own, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“How’s it going, old man?”

A wistful look passes between us. He’s frail and old and he looks so different to the last time I came home to visit.

“It’s not going,” the old man says, struggling to sit up. I help him and fluff a pillow behind his back to make him comfortable.

“How can I help?”

“You need to stick to the script, kid. You’re all I have left.”

I fix my thoughtful gaze on my father. This is not the life I ever would have chosen for myself, but it’s one I found himself in. And now I have to live it, for better or for worse.

“King…” the old man starts, before he’s interrupted by a deep chortle from his lungs as he coughs. I pour a cup of water and lift it toward my father, placing the straw against his dry lips.

“Your safety is everything to me, King. I need you to be safe. This is not the time to let your guard down.”

“You’re going to be fine,” I reassure him, setting the cup down on the bedside table.

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