Page 65 of Cruel Love
“I know her. She’s the girl Welch wanted me to make fake IDs for,”Cleosaid, her face moving closer to the screen as if she was inspecting the photo closer.“She’s older in this picture though than the one Welch gave me.”
“That’s Willow.”
Her eyes immediately jumped back to the screen.“Willow, as in yourwife?”
“The one and the same,”I replied as I clicked on the photo I’d sent toher, my mouth instantly going dry at the sight of Willow.
Fuck, I couldn’t wait to get home to her.
“Huh. What a small world,”Cleo said, moving back from the screen.“So, what does this have to do with me?”
“I heard my father on the phone a few nights ago. He was talking toWelch, and he said that Welch had better hope Willow didn’t remember or it would cause problems for Legion.”
“Remember what?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be speaking to you right now,”I snapped,rightfully earning a scowl from Cleo. I scrubbed a hand down my face, giving myself a minute to collect my thoughts.“Willow doesn’t remember her life before Peartree House. When she was taken there, she was whipped until she forgot her past.”
“She was whipped?”Cleo said, her face paling.
“Yeah. Repeatedly. And now, if she ever tries to recall memories ofher past, all she feels is phantom pain. She was trained like a fucking dog was trained to salivate at a bell.”
Cleo covered her mouth, her eyes widened in horror.“That poor girl.How the hell did she even end up in Peartree House? Welch told me he was helping her and her mom to start a new life after her dad was killed in a car crash.”
“You and I both know Welch can’t be trusted,”I replied, murderousrage filtering through me at the thought of Kevin Welch.
It was a shame he was a Legion member, otherwise he would havebeen six feet under by now.
“Do you know what happened to her mom?”Cleo asked, the colorslowly returning to her cheeks.
“I don’t even know her mom’s name. Or her dad’s, for that matter.That’s why I’m speaking to you. Can you remember anything else from that time? Like what their real names were, or where they lived?”
“Fuck, James. That was what, five years ago? I barely rememberwhat I did yesterday. Oh wait, yes I do. I was biting a cock off.”
“Eight,”I replied, doing my best not to snap again. Cleo was my lasthope of finding out information that could help me work out what the fuck my father was hiding.
“Christ, was it really that long ago?”Cleo sighed.“I’m sorry, James. Idon’t remember. I’ve created so many IDs over the years, they all blend into one. I bet you don’t remember every one of your targets?”
It was my turn to sigh. Cleo was right, as soon as a target was dead,I put them out of my mind. I’d lost count of how many people I’d killed over the years, and other than my most recent target, I couldn’t remember the names of any of them.
“Wait,”she said suddenly, my heart leaping into my throat in the hopethat she might have remembered something. She leaned forward again as if she were taking another look at the picture, and as she did, her teeth sank into her bottom lip as the cogs whirled in her head.
“I flew into Raleigh,”Cleo said, her gaze fixed on the screen, but noton me, and as she spoke, it was as if she was talking to herself.“I’m sure of it. I was in England, and Welch contacted me to ask for a favor. I flew to North Carolina, and I met him just outside of Raleigh.”Her eyes met mine again, a flash of determination in them.“I can’t be certain, but I think I remember Welch saying Charlotte. Maybe Willow and her mom lived there?”
It was a start. Cleo had previously mentioned Willow’s dad had diedin a car crash. I quickly opened up a Google tab and searched for how many fatal car crashes there were in Charlotte in 2017, the year Willow would have been ten. The results showed there were seventy fatalities.
It was by no means foolproof, her dad might not have died inCharlotte but it was better than working with nothing.
Cleo and I finished our call when my pilot came out to say we wouldbe taking off shortly. For the duration of the flight back to Minnesota, I was glued to my laptop, trying to find out as much information about the car crashes that had happened eight years ago in Charlotte.
When the plane landed, and I gathered my belongings, more thanready to get the fuck home and spend the night buried inside Willow, my phone rang.
I muttered a curse at seeing my father’s name flashing on thescreen.
“Dad,”I answered, hoping like fuck he hadn’t discovered that I wastrying to dig up information he clearly wanted to keep hidden.
“James,”he said, his voice as cold as ever.“I’m sorry to have to tellyou, but your mom passed away a few hours ago.”
It was another night before I went home. When my plane landed fromMiami, I drove straight to my father’s house. By the time I got there, numbness had seeped in. My father told me my mom had died peacefully in her sleep.
