Page 37 of Dying to Meet You

“Kathy and Roger will pick the girls and Zach up, and they already have Warner and Zeb. I asked them not to say anything about Weston. If they ask where he is, they’re going to say he is busy. Just…that he’s busy.”

Eden’s mouth drops open, and I stop walking. “No.” Shaking my head I continue, “No, absolutely not. No.”

Eden sucks in a breath before she says, “They should know. We can’t lie to them.”

Matt turns to us. “I don’t want to scare them. We’ll tell them…just not yet.”

His need to protect people by withholding information is a dangerous trait. I’m not fond of it, and it’s bitten him in the ass before. “No. We tell them, all of us together, after school. Before they hear it from a classmate or the news.”

Eden’s crying again, a shaky arm wrapping around my waist as her head leans back against my chest. “I agree,” she says firmly. “No lying.”

I don’t even need to poll the other three adults in our family. Matt will lose.

Eden pauses near the gate to the animal enclosure, tears falling and her arms folding over her middle. “Matt, Keir.” Her voice is trembling. “Look.”

She bends down to pick up a piece of paper stuck in the mechanism. Her gasp causes us both to close in quickly. Matt takes it from her hand, showing me what’s written. It’s a white piece of standard paper with writing in block print:“One down. We will cleanse the Earth of you. Remember, we’re dying to meet you.” The last of the true Realists.

Matt takes the paper by the corner edge, careful not to contaminate the evidence further. A slew of curse words unfurl from him. I’m dumbstruck.

There’s no mistaking what’s happened now.

They’ve claimed responsibility.

The Realists…the cult we’d determined died out in the years since Number One was killed. They’ve rallied. They’ve come after Eden and her offspring.

Great, gulping sobs overtake Eden as she sinks to the ground. My reactions feel stymied by my inability to put it all together. As I’m reaching her, Matt already has her cradled in his arms, the note pinched between his fingers and is stalking back to the house. “Get Harrison and Bristow.” He looks back at me. “We have a problem. Someone in the search party is a part of this.”

“I will. But not before I get someone on Waverly and Warner.” We’re already searching for one child; there is not a chance in hell I’m risking them, too.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Who thought this was okay?

Hutton

Thebloodinmyveins rages in agony. I’m barely holding my anger in. We should’ve been more careful. Hell is coming to their doorstep. They’ve messed with the wrong family. Turning to face Matt, I spot the picture Weston drew of ninjas and goats I’d taped to one of the computer modems.

“The FBI will only get in the way,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’ll find whoever is responsible and when I do no government agency will be looking over my shoulder.”

If they think they can hide behind code I created as a type of insult toward me, breach our security by dropping a threat here, and lay a single finger on our kid…they don’t know me.

I was built for destruction. That’s my whole purpose.

Matt pushes the bagged note toward me on the desk in my office. “This is what we’re dealing with. Do you understand they’ve been killing people connected to the Lassiter and Bradford families? Making threats, letting us know they know where to find all of us…work, home. They have your code figured out. What am I missing? You think you’re going to single- handedly stop them without the FBI’s involvement?” The vein in his forehead is sticking out, his jaw tensing and face flushing. “There’s bravery, then there’s stupidity. The more of us working on this, the better.”

Is this why he had to talk to me alone? He’s mistaken if he thinks I’ll comply; I don’t answer to him. Not as a husband to Eden, not as a father to Wes, and definitely not because he is a high-ranking FBI agent.

I’m accountable to Eden and the kids, but I know my wife would approve of any means necessary to return Weston. We have the unique displeasure of learning the hard way - it’s us or them. They believe we’re a danger to society? Then they must be eradicated. Our blood and genes aren’t the problem, it’s us knowing the truth. They aren’t able to profit from our blood or genes. We took down their leader, but there was more to Camp Carroll than Number One.

I have no problem taking the lives of anyone involved in this. The last of the true Realists have no idea the monster they’re unleashing.

Matt is still mulling over my refusal to comply with him when I leave my office, only to find more random people milling around. “Harrison,” I bark. “Get these people out of our home. Now.”

Thoughts appear to be processing, but he’s not moving fast enough for me.

I’m tired of playing nice with agents who have been pointlessly roaming around the property lately. “Listen up, if you aren’t a member of this family or have a badge…get the fuck out.”

Matt mumbles, “There was a better way to do that. So much for the goodwill of our neighbors.”

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